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đClick to read onđThe Rejected Rogue Lunađ | âThis is such a pleasant surprise, Sethâ I croon, running to meet my mate. It has been so long since I have seen him last and I miss the familiar scent of him and his laughter. I throw my hands around him but he does not hug me back. If anything he seems like he does not want me to be here. âI had no idea you were throwing a party for my homecomingâ I tell him, kissing him slightly on the cheek. âI had no idea you were back, Rowena. You should not be hereâ He pushes me, holding me away from his body. âDid you not get my letter?â I ask, my smile falling from my face. âWhat letter?â He grunts. âThe one where I told you I will be coming back today. You missed my graduation and I thought to surprise you by returning but it seems you did not knowâ My feet grows cold at this information and I back away from him. He is staring at me, his eyes not giving the usual warmth that I am used to. It could only explain why he had not responded to any of my letters for the past months. I gave excuses that he must be busy as Alpha and head of the pack and he could not write to me but⌠Seth de Beaufort, my childhood friend and mate was staring at me like I was some stranger. âWho then is the party for?â I ask. I am interrupted by cheers erupting from the members of our pack and then I see her walk in, holding freshly picked flowers in her hand and a crown on her head. I know who this is, she is my best friend, Isobel but what is she doing? I am pushed back into the crowd as she approaches. She is yet to see me as she only has eyes for Seth who is smiling back at her. âHello mateâ I hear her whisper. Mate? I gasp. I push forward, stopping her approach. âRowenaâ She jolts. âWhat are you doing here?â She glances at Seth who shrugs his shoulders. âI should be asking you that question, donât you think? What are you doing?â I cry out. âI am getting engagedâ She smiles brightly at me. âIt is great that you are here, maybe you could be my chiefâs bridesmaid?â âYou have got to be jokingâ I scoff. âNot now, Rowena. We will talk about this afterâ Seth stops me, putting out a hand for Isobel. âNoâ I raise my voice, my insides shaking with confusion. I cannot believe my eyes as I watch them turn to me. âWe have to talk about it nowâ I tell him, braving the stares I am getting from every member of the pack. âOkay, if you want to do this here then that is fine by meâ Seth growls, stepping away from Isobel and approaching me. âSeth, what is the meaning of this? We are mates⌠you can still feel it so why?â âI, Seth de Beaufort reject you, Rowena Stuart as my mate and future Lunaâ He declares. âNo, stop it please⌠do not do thisâ I grunt, my chest tearing apart with pain. I double over, clutching my pounding heart. âAccept the rejection!â He spits. âAccept it and leave so that I might have a great day with my true mateâ He announces. âI, Rowena Stuart⌠accept your rejectionâ My chest eases up a little bit as I say this but I cannot stop the tears gushing from my eyes as I watch them walk up, smiling into each otherâs eyes. I feel betrayed by every single step and every single smile. To think I was coming back to my fiance and my best friend and they were doing this behind my back. I turn around, dashing out and into the dark, my eyes blinded with tears. This should not be happening. I collapse to the ground outside the party, my heart beating rapidly like it is about to burst. I do not turn around even when I hear the patters of feet until a throat clears behind me. âRowena, IâŚâ âHave you not done enough, Isobel?â I rise to my feet and face her. She has a smirk on her face âHow could you? I trusted you, you are my best friend!â I cry out. âIt is hardly my fault that Seth took a liking to me while you were away pursuing the career of your dreams.â she scoffs at this. I had gone to learn modern healing and had been supported by every member of the clan, including Seth. âWho do you think comforted him on the nights when he was alone and needed company?â I make to slap her but she catches my hand in the air, throwing it back at me. âThis is the least of your problems, I promise youâ She tells me instead. âWhat is that supposed to mean?â I ask âDid you come here straight from the airport?â She throws her head back to laugh. I did come there straight because I thought⌠âWhat do you mean?â I ask her again. âI donât know, friend. You should probably run along home now before it is too lateâ She turns around and walks back into the party. I stand there in confusion not understanding what her talk was about. I move however, heading straight to my home with her warning ringing in my ears. I can hear screaming coming in the direction of my home which only speeds my steps. âWhat is happening?â I mutter, running inside. Sybillia, my sister has tears streaming down her face and her clothes torn to shreds. âWhat happened, talk to meâ I shake her. âFather was takenâ Her voice broke. âTaken?â I ask, confusion dotting my forehead âThey say he is a traitor and they are going to kill him, Rowena. You have to do something.â She holds me, crying some more. âWhere is mother?â I ask her. She shakes her head in the negative which told me that she had no idea where our mother was. âListen, Sybil⌠I need you to find motherâ I shake her again. âDo you hear me? I want you to find her and then I want you both to hideâ I tell her. âWhat are you going to do?â She asks. âI need to find out what is going onâ I mutter vaguely. I turn around and exit, heading back to the party where I burst in regarding Seth with baleful eyes. He notices me immediately and rolls his eyes but I approach, stopping when his guards block my path. âMy father, what has he done?â I ask, my voice breaking. Seth, my one time lover and mate regards me with disgust, his lips quirking up in a sneer. âHe is a traitor and for that he must dieâ .............................................................................. ROWENA âThat is a lieâ I scream. There are murmurs everywhere by members of the pack and I know they must think that I have lost my head coming here and yelling at the Alpha of the pack but I am too far gone to understand what I am doing. âI will allow you leave this place and we will speak when my party is overâ Seth warns me. âI want to know what crimes my father has committed for you to lock him upâ I repeat. âLook at herâ Isobel grunts, turning to Seth. âShe does not respect you, my love. Tell me how she is going to remain in this pack if she is this defiant towards youâ She mutters. Sethâs eyes darkens as he rises to his feet, pointing a hand towards me. âYou dare speak back to your Alpha?â He snaps, approaching me. I do not take a step back even as I am intimidated by him. It is as though we are now enemies because I do not recognize him anymore as the man I used to be in love with. âYour father has admitted to his crimes and come noon tomorrow, he will be beheaded as a traitor and so will your motherâ He announces The crowd cheers again âYou will denounce them, yourself and your sister or you will leave me no choiceâ âI cannot do that⌠I cannot-â âAnd for the crime of speaking back at me, Rowena Stuart⌠you will be reduced to the life of a maid and you will serve Isobel who is going to be my Lunaâ My friend smiles, clasping her fingers together. âGuardsâ Seth calls The door swished open again and they enter. âGet her out of her and make sure to keep her locked up until she denounces her bloodline. Make the announcement that I shall be marrying Isobel Howard tomorrowâs noon after the execution of Grant and Helena Stuartâ He declares. âNoâ I rave, trashing as both men drag me out of his tent. They are laughing at my struggle and then I hear the loud thunk of the metal gate leading to the dungeons. I am thrown into it, flung like useless waste paper. I do not know how long I am in that dim pit before the doors burst open and I hear the fall of footsteps approaching where I lay. âRowena?â A voice calls out. I recognize it immediately as Isobel and wonder what she wants. âWhat the do you want?â I rave, my eyes red from all the crying I have been doing the past hour. She is standing in front of me now, her lips quirked up in a smile. âI hate youâ I snap. âWhat do you hate me for? For sleeping with her fiance or reporting your parents forâŚâ She pauses as my eyes widens in realization. âOopsâ She laughs. âYou are a slut who moved on her friendâs man almost immediately sheâŚâ âAlmost immediately?â She stops me, scoffing. âHave you been so utterly blind, Rowena?â Rowena, I think⌠she used to call me Row but I guess when you betray your friend, you do not get to use pet names any longer. âSeth and I have been together before you both began dating. The engagement to you was his fatherâs idea⌠you do not think he wanted to get married to you, did you?â She asks. âWhat are you talking about?â I mutter. She laughs then, her voice grating on my ears. âYou have always had a stupid crush on Seth, always saying he will be your mate and so when you claimed he was your mate and your wolf hasâŚâ âI claimed?â I stop her. âSeth is my mate!â I scream at her âBut he is also mine!â Isobel screams back at me. âYou are lying, that is not possibleâ âIt is rare but not impossible and that is what we are going to tell the members of the pack. They are going to hear that my wolf has mated with his and he has rejected your bond because of your family. They are going to accept me as Luna of the pack and if you want to save yourself then you will accept Sethâs offerâ âYou plotted this, didnât you? You plotted this treason and you somehow roped my family into itâ I accuse. âWhatever are you talking about, dear girlâ She mocks, her eyes wide with innocence. âGet outâ I snarl, my eyes blue with rage. âYour parents have been arrested but we are yet to catch Sybillia. Where did you send her?â She questions. I am confused at this because I know I sent Sybil to find our mother and so if they have both been arrested then she is supposed to be with them. âI have no idea where she isâ I mutter. âYes you do and you are going to tell me. Tomorrow is my wedding and I am not going to have you ruin my chances at being Luna of this packâ My lips curve up in a smile but I say nothing. âWhere the is she?â Isobel asks again, approaching me. âI have no ideaâ I repeat. She stares at me, the anger evident in her gaze. âYou will pay for thisâ She declares right before walking out and leaving me in the darkness. I do not know how long the night lasts but the doors open again and I hear a tumble and then a yelp. âWhoâs there?â I mutter. âRowena?â I hear my sister. âSybil?â I ask, scampering to my feet. âHow are you here? I thought you somehow escapedâ âI was caught. They have mom and dad and they⌠they are going to kill themâ She cries out. âCome hereâ I mutter. I put my hand out through the opening and touch my sister, our hands connecting and holding. I can feel her panic and I am sure she can feel mine too. âEverything will be alrightâ I reassure her. âWhat are we going to do?â She asks me. âWe have to do somethingâ âWe ask the moon goddess for helpâ I tell her. We both close our eyes and begin praying to the moon goddess. I feel peaceful for the first time since our ordeal began and so I close my eyes, my hand still intertwined with my sisterâs and I drift into sleep. ⌠âDrag her out!â The loud boom of voice arouses me from my sleep. I hear screaming right before my sister is yanked from my grasp. âNo, leave her aloneâ I yell. The door to my prison is also opened and I am dragged out too. âLeave my sister the âŚâ One of the guards back hand me across the face and blood spurts out of my mouth. âShut your mouth, cuntâ He snaps. I can still hear her screams as I am led out into the open with members of the pack staring at me with disgust evident on their faces. I stare back, refusing to lower my gaze. I am not a traitor and neither is any member of my family so why should I be ashamed? I am pushed forward until we come to the clearing and I see Seth and Isobel both seated with my father and mother kneeling. They are tied up and I can see that they have both taken beatings but I do not see Sybillia anywhere. âWe are gathered here today to sentence Grant and Helena Stuart for the crime of dabbling into the dark artsâ Seth announces. The crowd cheers and I can feel the bile rising in my mouth at the sound of their hooping. They are happy, I think. I knew we were hated but I did not think they would be happy to see us die. Where is my sister? Where was she taken? I think to myself. âHow do you both plead?â Seth roars, rising to his feet. My father says nothing and so does my mother. âI will spare both your daughters if they denounce your family right this minuteâ He declares. There are hushed protest about this but no one dares say anything to counter the Alpha of the pack. I can see that my father is about to speak up but we are interrupted by a commotion and sounds of running. I turn around, my eyes happening upon Sybillia who is holding a crossbow aimed at Seth. She has blood running from the center of her legs and I can see that she can hardly stand. âNoâ I scream, rising to my feet to stop her but I am held back by the guards. âYou assholeâ She pants. âYou cannot do this, Sybil⌠it is treasonâ I scream, tears streaming down my face. âPut the crossbow down, Sybilliaâ My fatherâs calm voice comes through. My sisterâs eyes are bright as she stares pointedly at Seht who has not breathed a word and then she drops the crossbow. I heave a sigh of relief at this while the guards grab the weapon, taking it away from her grasp. There is still a hushed silence, like everyone was waiting for a reaction from the Alpha with bated breath. I turn to Seth, his eyes are black with rage and I know there is trouble. âDo itâ I hear him say. Do what? I am confused but I follow his eyes to where my sister remained standing. I see the swing of the sword too late as my sister is cut down. There is a scream, a tiny high pitched scream⌠I realize it is me screaming before I pass out. .............................................................................. ROWENA âRowena, open your eyesâ My eyes flutters open, my motherâs face in view. I am laying on the ground and my thoughts are scattered. I turn immediately to the place I had seen my sister fall, very sure it was a bad dream. Her body is no longer there but I see the blood decorating the ground, seeping into the sand. âNoâ I begin to cry, my mother holding unto me. âSybilâ I quiver. âShe is with the goddessâ My mother says, trying to comfort me. The goddess be damned! Where is the goddess as my family is facing persecution. âYou have to denounce usâ My mother whispers urgently in my ears while I cry. âI cannot do thatâ I argue. âYou are going to do it for your father and I, Rowena. We are going to die, that is for sure but you do not have to die with usâ We are sitting in the sand with Seth staring at us and every member of the pack. None of them trying to help âMomâ I wail âDo it, Rowenaâ She snaps at me. âDo it for usâ âThatâs enoughâ Seth commands, breaking our conversation. I rise to my feet, shaking like a leaf and my eyes meet my fatherâs. He nods at me once, a smile on his face like he is giving his approval and he wants me to do exactly as my mother had said. âI denounce themâ I mutter, my voice breaking. âLouder, Rowenaâ My mother encourages, nodding her head. âI denounce them!â I shout, the tears streaming down my cheeks. âI am not with these traitors and I do not identify as their familyâ The crowd begins jeering at me and my parents but I am staring into Sethâs face imagining all the ways I am going to make him suffer before I kill him. And Isobel? I am going to make sure she suffers for the rest of her life. âYou have done the right thingâ Seth finally smiles in my direction. He moves his head to the side and the guards grab me, dragging me away. I am led to the side and my parents are strung up while the executioner grabs his sword and begins taking slow, measured steps around them. I make sure to leave my eyes open and my face blank. I want to see it all, I want to feel their pain and I want the hate to blossom in my heart so that when it is finally time for my revenge, I will not hesitate. âAny last words?â Seth asks. My father sighs at this and then he turns to me. âYou are special, Rowena. Very special and I want you to remember thatâ He says. The crowd boos him while I struggle to regulate my breathing so I do not cry out loud. I can feel my wolf wailing inside me but I shut her out, not wanting to give in to the torment I am feeling. There will be plenty time to cry when I am done avenging my family. âYou may beginâ Seth declares. The sword swings once, taking my fatherâs head with it. I watch as the blood sputters from his neck and my mother scream. It is almost as if I am watching the event unfolding from far away. My mother follows next, her body crumpling beside my fatherâs and then I am pushed by the crowd. I am walking to where the marriage ceremony of Seth and Isobel will take place and I watch as the elder of our pack binds them in matrimony. I cannot get over the ringing in my ears even as I go on my knees as the rest of the crowd, hailing them both as Alpha and Luna of the pack. âFollow meâ Isobelâs voice drags me out of my reverie. I walk behind her, stopping as she enters Sethâs tent. âCome insideâ She orders. I walk in, my eyes coming up to hers. âWhat is your plan?â She asks me. âWhat are you talking about?â I shoot back. âYou denounced your family. I know you, Rowena and you would rather die than do that so what do you have planned? And do not think I do not know that you are plotting somethingâ âJust as you plotted?â I ask her. â bitch!â She raves. âHe should have killed you too and somehow you are still standing here in front of meâ âI plan to serve you to the best of my ability, Isobelâ I smirk at her. I can see that she is afraid judging by the way her teeth grits in her mouth and then she raises her hand to slap me across the face. She is stopped however by Seth who had come in without our knowledge. âWhat are you doing?â He bellows. âShe insulted your Luna, Sethâ Ana whines. âThat does not give you the right to slap her, Isobel. Go to your room till I call for youâ He commands. Isobel eyes me then asks me to follow her. âRowena will stay hereâ He stops her. âWhat do you mean? You promised she will be my maid and serve meâ She reminds him. âI know what I said but promises can change and I want her to serve me instead.â He announces. I raise my eyes, my lips parting in shock. He betrays me, rejects me as his mate, kills my family and now he wants me to serve him? How low could one get? I think to myself. âYou cannot do that. What would the people of our pack say when they hear or see this? You just beheaded her parents in front of her and her sister, you seem to be forgetting she is a traitorâ Isobel spat. âIt is you who is forgetting your place, Isobel Howard. I am Alpha and my word is law and you might be my Luna but you do not talk back at me.â Seth snaps. I watch this display with mild interest. âShe is no longer your mate, Seth⌠I am and I want her to serve meâ She tries again. âDo not question my orders, Isobel⌠now leaveâ Seth responds to her. âI am sorryâ She mutters, exiting the tent. I am left alone now with Seth and my heart is pounding rapidly in my chest. âAre you okay?â He asks, touching my arm. I try not to flinch, merely nod at his enquiry while I bite the inside of my cheek till it bleeds. âYou should sitâ He says, leading me to his bed. âI did not want thisâ He mutters as he caresses the side of my face. âIt is not your faultâ I tell him, bringing my hand up to touch him. My skin crawls and my wolf shrinks within me but I pay them no mind. I am going to kill him but first, I plan to make him think all is forgotten and forgiven. Seth de Beaufort will not know what hit him until it is damn well too late⌠I will make sure of that. | LEARN_MORE | https://www.novel-oasis.com/share/middle/dvbl2moa4 | Le | https://www.facebook.com/100092986922851/ | 73 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | novel-oasis.com | IMAGE | âThe one where I told you I will be coming back today. You missed my graduation and I thought to surprise you by returning but it seems you did not knowâ My feet grows cold at this information and I back away from him. | https://www.novel-oasis.com/share/middle/dvbl2moa4htcowwvvmfc2vjt?ad_id={{ad.id}}&sid=120213973301440267&campaign={{campaign.name}}&adgroup={{adset.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468204663_2226942954356452_5083732200800940871_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=GtMS_PJhNt4Q7kNvgHsG20i&_nc_oc=AdiJ_A0G9ysas4F5IhdcEpjtMZobKcMphp875UwHUqWRwtRfbJRdKFxpwiE-uvLbbgclC1Zlz06JwXunzKUS7NXO&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AtP0RGK_pJVdXpAkCuJo3Im&oh=00_AYDvAZet5qHDhiqCc6YkMU_Ux4491-UCoB8MXW5oxNnTvA&oe=67C4249F | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Le | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Read next chapter | On her wedding day, her stepsister set her up, framing her with accusations of promiscuity, academic fraud, and attempted murder. She was personally brought to court by her fiancĂŠ and imprisoned for three years, enduring inhuman torment! ===== On the day Khloe Evans was put on trial by her fiance, it was raining heavily. "Khloe Evans, you are suspected of bribing competition judges, academic fraud, and attempted homicide. Do you plead guilty or not?" Inside the silent and solemn courtroom, the judge's gavel echoed, signaling the start of a tense moment. Khloe's bl**dshot eyes were filled with anger and desperation, staring at Eric Watson, her fiance. She couldn't help but sneer. They had spent four years from falling in love to getting married; she had always believed that he loved her deeply and that their married life would be blissful. But on their wedding day, he personally put her on trial because of her stepsister's words. The Watson family was one of the wealthiest and most influential families in the country. No one would dare to offend them for a nobody like her. Khloe said word by word, "I have nothing to say." All along, she thought Eric was the love of her life. But it turned out he had been having an a**air with her stepsister, Sloane Evans. What was more, he had stolen her academic achievements. And now, he falsely accused her of being a m*rderer. He was ruthless. What else could she say? The judge banged his gavel again and gave his verdict. "The court hereby sentences the defendant, Khloe Evans, to eight years in prison and a fine of three hundred thousand dollars." The trial concluded, and the prison guards escorted Khloe. As she walked out of the courtroom, Khloe turned and looked back at Eric, sitting in the plaintiff's seat, her eyes burning with deep hatred and fury. ...... Three years had passed. "Khloe Evans, someone has bailed you out. You're free to go." Upon hearing that, Khloe raised her head, her pale face filled with shock. After suffering from endless torture for three years, she had thought that she was bound to stay there for the full sentence. She didn't expect that she would be released one day. An hour after she was released from prison, Khloe was taken to a hospital. She entered a ward, and her heart clenched when she saw her mother through the ICU door, lying motionless in the hospital bed. With a pale face and various apparatus connected to her body, she looked lifeless. "Mom..." Khloe got all worked up, her voice trembling with emotion. She wanted to open the door and go in. "Stop it! This ward is specially secured. No one is allowed to enter without my permission." A female voice suddenly rang out behind her. Khloe turned around and was surprised to see the person who spoke. "Sloane? My mom severed ties with the Evans family long ago. Why are you still doing this to her?" As she spoke, she glared at Sloane with eyes full of hatred. Sloane looked at Khloe, a flicker of jealousy and disdain flashing across her eyes. Then, she sneered, "Khloe, looks like you are mistaken. I'm saving her. Without me, your mother would have died long ago. Perhaps, by the time you come out of prison, you will only see her tomb." Khloe took a deep breath to calm herself down. "Sloane, stop being so hypocritical. You are saving my mother? Only a fool will believe that. What are you really up to? You're using her to manipulate me, right?" "Khloe, you're as clever as ever. No wonder they called you the rising star of academia. But it's a pity that you are now a convict for attempted murder. And your fate is in my hands," Sloane taunted. "So, today, all you need to do is spend a night with Karl Russell. Then, I'll arrange for your release and your mother's treatment." "Karl Russell? That old man is already in his sixties. Are you out of your mind?" Khloe's eyes widened in disbelief. "So what? Should I care? It's you who are going to sleep with him, not me. As long as you spend one night with him, our family can secure the Russell family's arms deal. It's a very lucrative business. You should feel honored that you are selling out your body to make so much money for us. But if you refuse..." Sloane pointed to the ICU. "I'll have them remove your mom's life support, and she'll die right in front of you. I'll give you five seconds to decide. Five, four, three..." "Fine! I'll go," Khloe agreed in despair. This time, she could no longer suppress the tears she had been holding back. She was left with no choice. For the sake of her mother, she had to do it. After freshening up, Khloe was put into a car. Tonight, she was destined to sleep with a sixty-something disgusting man. And she was still a v**gin. Chapter 2 Henrik Watson That night, the car glided through the deserted streets, headlights cutting into the night's inky darkness. Bang! A g*nshot shattered the silence, deafening and ominously close. Glass sprayed across the seats as the car window exploded, fragments glittering in the dim streetlights. All hell broke loose. Terrified creams echoed in the street as the few remaining shops hurried to lower their shutters. The driver, white-faced and trembling, veered in a panic. The car skidded, tires screeching before slamming into the curb. He slumped forward, unconscious. Beside him, Khloe blinked, disoriented from the impact. Pressing a hand to her throbbing head, she tried to make sense of what had happened. Through the cracked window, she glimpsed flickering orange flames a short distance away. "Oh, no!" She'd stumbled straight into the deadly crossfires of a g*nfight. It was likely a turf war turned ugly by two warring gangs. Steadying herself, Khloe pushed open the door and crouched low, inching towards the roadside. But before she could move further, a figure emerged from the darkness. Tall and powerfully built, he was moving fast. Even though a mask obscured most of his features, she could still see his intense eyes and the proud outline of his nose. A dark stain spread across his side, seeping through his clothes--bl**d. He stumbled towards her, breathing heavily, and collapsed at her feet. Just then, another group of burly men burst from the shadows, each armed to the teeth. Their faces were etched with vicious determination, each bearing a t**too on the hand. "Perfect! He's down. Now, finish him off!" The leader, bald and snarling, held up his g*n and pointed it towards the fallen man. Then, his gaze fell on Khloe. She was dressed to the nines, as she was meant to be a gift for a man tonight. A tight red dress hugged her perfect figure, accentuating her curves and complimenting her porcelain skin. Her glossy hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a delicate, doll-like face with wide, innocent eyes. In a word, she looked like a vision from a dream--or a man's t**ptation made flesh. The bald man's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with le**erous intent. He had never seen such a beautiful woman before, and he wasn't about to let an opportunity like this slide. "While you're finishing him off, I'll help myself to this beauty." He lunged, shoving Khloe back against the shattered window, pressing his weight against her. "No, please!" she pleaded, her voice trembling as she tried to pull away. "Please don't hurt me." "Why would I hurt a beauty like you?" he taunted, his fingers gripping her shoulder tightly as he leaned closer, his hot breath on her skin. His men jeered behind him, urging him on, enjoying the show. But Khloe's hand moved, almost imperceptibly, reaching into her purse. In one swift, desperate motion, her fingers closed around a pen, and she drove it up into his neck with a fierce thrust. The bald man's eyes widened in shock as bl**d spurted from the wound, his grip loosening. Gone was the look of a damsel in distress; her eyes, which were so full of fear just a second earlier, now glinted with a cold light. What was once a delicate, angelic beauty had transformed into a bl**d-stained rose, dark and dangerous. "B**ch, you're asking for it!" The henchmen froze for a split second, then fury overcame them, and they charged at Khloe with murderous intent. Her voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. "Don't move, or I'll pull the pen out! He'll bleed out on the spot!" The men abruptly stopped in their tracks. No one dared to move a muscle. At this moment, the man who'd been lying motionless suddenly sprang to life, g*n in hand, and unleashed a hail of b*llets on the stunned th*gs. He moved with such agility that it was clear his injury had only been a ruse. Even the bald man Khloe held hostage collapsed in a bl**dy heap, a bullet having shattered his skull in an instant. Khloe spun her head just in time, avoiding the bl**d splatter. But her clothes and legs weren't so lucky; they were stained with bl**d, sticky and warm. "Ugh!" The sickly, metallic scent hit her, and her stomach churned. She couldn't stop herself from retching, knees buckling as she collapsed sideways. But before she hit the ground, an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her upright. The man's grip was firm, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Feisty little thing, weren't you so badass just a second ago? What happened?" Khloe recoiled, shoving him away, her face twisting in defiance. "Let go of me!" Before she could get another word out, black-clad men suddenly emerged from the shadows, their faces hard, eyes cold. Even the surrounding rooftops showed silhouettes of these men, controlling all sniper points. Each man moved with such deadly precision, and Khloe could tell at a glance that they were all experienced killers. They brandished machine guns and rocket launchers with practiced ease, as though these were everyday items. In a word, they looked like an elite strike force--battle-hardened, lethal. Unexpectedly, one by one, they all started dropping to their knees, as though bowing before a king. Thousands of them bowed in unison. "Awaiting your orders, Mr. Watson," the leader announced reverently. Khloe's breath hitched. "Are you Henrik Watson?" Chapter 3 The Kiss Henrik accepted a handkerchief from his trusted aide, Rhett Foster, wiping the bl**d from his hands with deliberate, almost regal precision. He then removed his mask slowly, revealing a face that could seize anyone's breath. His eyes were dark, magnetic pools, deep enough to pull anyone in. And above his perfectly-shaped lips was a prominent, sculpted nose. His chiseled features conveyed both power and beauty, almost too flawless to belong to any ordinary man. It was the kind of face that could eclipse even the brightest stars in the showbiz. But more than his appearance, it was his aura--commanding, indomitable--that sent shivers down spines. This was a man who held dominion over countless lives. Henrik smiled, a flash of danger glinting in his eyes. "So what if I am?" Khloe's eyes went as wide as saucers. Henrik Watson--that name carried the weight of legend. Henrik had once been a branch member of the Watson family before vanishing into obscurity for ten long years. When he resurfaced, he singlehandedly seized control of the nation's underworld, rendering him a king without rival. In fact, he was so powerful that even the president treaded carefully around him. Khloe's ex-fiance, Eric, was a member of the Watson family, which had ascended from obscurity to supremacy solely thanks to Henrik. By blood, Eric was Henrik's nephew. So, if her marriage to Eric pushed through, Henrik would be her husband's uncle. Khloe's stepsister, Sloane, had maneuvered her into offering herself to Karl Russell. Though Karl held sway in the city, he was nothing against Henrik's underworld might. It was like comparing a lion to a mouse. As the thought struck her, hope flickered within Khloe. If she could gain Henrik's support, she might escape her forced sacrifice, and her mother could be saved. Steadying her breath, she asked tentatively, "Since I just helped you, could I ask you a favor?" Henrik's gaze sharpened, eyes gleaming with intrigue. It was the first time a woman had faced him with such poise, especially after witnessing him kill so many people. Interest piqued, Henrik strode towards Khloe with an almost lazy confidence, each step measured and unhurried. His sculpted fingers pinched her chin, lifting it so she was looking right at him. He held her gaze as he studied her with a trace of amusement in his eyes. His voice, low and rich, sent a chill through the air. "Do you have any idea who you're talking to? Aren't you afraid I'll kill you?" A shiver raced through Khloe's heart. His presence was overwhelming, like a storm cloud closing in, suffocating in its intensity. He was dangerous--merely speaking to him was like playing with fire. But she had nowhere else to turn; Henrik was her only chance. "I have a Ph.D. in chemistry and medicine, along with patents--highly profitable ones. If you help me, I can make you money," she said, voice steady but with a glint of desperation. Henrik shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Money?" he murmured, his fingers brushing her cheek. "Do I look like I lack money?" The scent of bl**d clung faintly to his skin, chilling her even as he remained outwardly gentle. Khloe's guard went up instinctively, her body tensing beneath his touch. "What do you want?" she ventured cautiously. "If it's within my power, I'm willing to exchange anything." A spark flickered in Henrik's dark eyes, something enigmatic and unreadable. He let his gaze drift over her as if considering her offer. "Anything, you say?" All of a sudden, he let out a chilling laugh. "Then I want this." In one swift motion, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. And there, before all his men, he kissed her. Chapter 4 Decisive Action The kiss came unexpectedly. Khloe was caught off guard, unable to respond in time. Henrik's subordinates stood frozen, their eyes wide with disbelief. They had all worked for him for years, and never once had they seen him so close with a woman. Henrik had always been the type to keep his distance from women. In the past, women who approached him either ended up as fish food or were sent to toil in the mines at his orders. What kind of spell had this woman cast? How was it that she managed to make Henrik abandon all his usual rules, and all on their very first meeting? As the crowd remained stunned and puzzled, Khloe's thoughts swirled in chaos, making it impossible to think straight. Henrik's kiss was overwhelming, like a storm crashing down on her, leaving her breathless and dizzy. She found herself trapped in his arms, held so tightly it felt as though she were a flower caught in a violent storm. Yet she was anything but fragile. Once the shock wore off, a surge of anger rose within her. For years, she had endured humiliation, her fall from grace plunging her into the darkest depths. But giving up was never an option; she had always been plotting her revenge. It was only natural that she refused to yield. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss with equal ferocity. After all, what harm could a kiss do? And the man was both devastatingly handsome and of high standing. She would not suffer any losses. She skillfully fought back with her t**gue, refusing to let him dominate her entirely. Instead of pulling back, she met his intensity head-on, taking the lead. What began as a one-sided kiss quickly transformed into a fierce exchange, each of them vying for control, pushing and pulling in a heated battle for dominance. The kiss was fierce and all-consuming, each second more passionate than the last, until they were both gasping for air. When they finally pulled away, their lips were swollen and stained with bl**d, a testament to the intensity of the moment. Henrik let go of Khloe, his hand brushing against the corner of his mouth where her teeth had left their mark. His gaze was intense, locking onto her with a depth that seemed to pierce right through her. Khloe held his stare steadily, not flinching or showing even the slightest sign of discomfort. Her fearless attitude earned her the respect of those watching. It was clear now why Henrik was drawn to her. She was bold, with a courage that couldn't be ignored. She had the audacity to bite Henrik's lips, unafraid of the consequences. Henrik continued to gaze at Khloe, a growing satisfaction building within him. The sting on his lips reminded him sharply of what had just happened. The woman standing before him, with a face as stunning as an angel's, was no delicate flower. She was a thorny rose, and anyone foolish enough to underestimate her would undoubtedly pay the price. But that was exactly what made her so captivating--it was the danger beneath the beauty that drew him in. "Mr. Watson, is everything to your liking?" Khloe asked, breaking the stillness. "Yes, let's go," Henrik replied with a smile. "Now, let's take care of your little issue." ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &9& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65284322-fb_contact-e | Romance Novel | https://www.facebook.com/100083771162998/ | 48,210 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | IMAGE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65284322-fb_contact-enp98_2-1210-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=DD7CCA935D14747FC6507EFDD02BC11E28EF48148D369E36 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475054308_625601456602669_2063156416022775733_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ju2TBn3FDFQQ7kNvgHFnpgB&_nc_oc=AdgAEaKxU7Ecx1PpADn8poD62d80qKrNwp3dcF5apnwOFapBce2DpnF4zDB62Oy36aYjmTUeEcAygRUlLxJM4G_z&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AxUCfqHCRhS8-4F7doSzs-U&oh=00_AYCFVK2yLqFuK_FBYJfD4UKaAZJIL2N1TibYNeOqoe2BpA&oe=67C2ED59 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Romance Novel | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-02-25 16:51 | active | 2627 | 0 | Try It Now | Archero sequel! Go on a new adventure! | PLAY_GAME | https://apps.apple.com/app/archero-2/id6502820653 | Archero 2 | https://www.facebook.com/archero2/ | 4,240 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Play Game | 0 | https://apps.apple.com/app/archero-2/id6502820653 | DCO | Harder Than You Think | https://apps.apple.com/app/archero-2/id6502820653 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-lga3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474625652_950218813743472_6720676695536471841_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=FmzSyllOy9EQ7kNvgFbKTrq&_nc_oc=AdiXGg1xxAiMZK2Hh-gyXTEi7QfhnlJFiseh0hnlB9CTn_UHo9-09y69PmNClzniXTVqnFDqzCNu69wOdILSg0ul&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AceUXayPQeIfwwSu605NYd_&oh=00_AYCPrDNGR4futuijp0_59FWCliGHAc7WA2eXXNqW9D8o-Q&oe=67C41C11 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Archero 2 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-02-25 16:51 | active | 2627 | 0 | Be Ready For This Season With Final Rest | Be ready and steady for this season with the Final Rest. Options for any situation. | SHOP_NOW | https://final-rest.com/ | Final Rest | https://www.facebook.com/finalrestshootingsystems/ | 10,175 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Shop Now | 0 | final-rest.com | DCO | {{product.description}} | https://final-rest.com/ | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462855160_1484367038931229_2921368040944328170_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=O5rQuM5yb6YQ7kNvgE46Jv6&_nc_oc=AdggSKeSh3Wp5_jkACfK8Bl1D3XW693AOgjutqBxsSHcQkBDQiJu2ZI39ZmylJKjQfPVw5Xxps9hHuF-mWYa_P60&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AmubbbbKY0-d5IbyS0k5VcU&oh=00_AYByKiHgPmmG16ZvtyooiM5Zq63nuLXXW017L9_7iQ44QQ&oe=67C42F2A | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Final Rest | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Warriors and Adventure | Only the strongest warriors can reach Lv.30! Try now! | INSTALL_MOBILE_APP | http://itunes.apple.com/app/id6459700431 | Warriors and Adventure | https://www.facebook.com/61550117414086/ | 1,586 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Install now | 0 | itunes.apple.com | IMAGE | http://itunes.apple.com/app/id6459700431 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464831366_527674756822839_3877810536900299795_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=krHdCXGR4rkQ7kNvgH1Z9MJ&_nc_oc=AdidU2NSWUJ2WHO-1BsbfiHGZsucDR-CWDQOpFIDjSY_vZnjjqO2wJDk3M3igyRZh4TRB2J9m-1AB3_CyigEXFit&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Asx8_jnR60fLcAeScMTUQq6&oh=00_AYAL5cWbX4rzgh9EzISJpKtfXLtA86X8NHYhEp_DVdCP0g&oe=67C4053B | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Warriors and Adventure | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE | http://instagram.com/crossbow_official | Crossbow | https://www.facebook.com/CrossbowNYC/ | 1,418 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Visit Instagram Profile | 0 | instagram.com | CAROUSEL | http://instagram.com/crossbow_official | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463880008_1065208281922082_7247875992597851937_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=RNIbE4r736oQ7kNvgFQv21U&_nc_oc=AdjOUtssUq7w-3hDGTB3aRPXakm84s3HPGn30c4RGBKMyuC1E6x8al6RpMFghCaavcbxhKDugVRCQQ9ZoIER8uFY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Asx8_jnR60fLcAeScMTUQq6&oh=00_AYBuzlCDe8SUb54a-A3iBOOtxmqw8MdBDIaqIxrbK4Q43w&oe=67C43412 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Crossbow | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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MBAB x Wear The House Giveaway! | NO_BUTTON | http://ashleighbergman.com/ | Milestones by Ashleigh Bergman | https://www.facebook.com/milestonesbyab/ | 1,539 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | No Button | 0 | ashleighbergman.com | CAROUSEL | http://ashleighbergman.com/ | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480603246_1140729291123897_5372319309385991407_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Y6DYNVOluK8Q7kNvgFOK_Mu&_nc_oc=AdgWDMHPSUBQ5ksnADokp6H2W2g0x_QJAgZzmE_7DOXxHhvLEIBxyIsQzdXsAVgHdaGNKBvXnUTRcrMWjWQ0IDbF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A-3ZJuAoJcLeqO2FXZyHXuA&oh=00_AYB_FWsQFoISGo4AyZczjcbD3dc0fE4znW7mgaf0Tqe9ww&oe=67C2C62C | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Milestones by Ashleigh Bergman | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Ultimate Bundle Giveaway! | đĽ Giveaway Alert! WIN 3 Free Tees! đĽ đSarcasm Lovers, This Oneâs for You!đ Weâre giving away the Ultimate Chortle Wear Bundle â 3 of our best-selling sarcastic tees! đđ How to Enter:đ â Follow @ChortleWear on Instagram & Facebook â Like this post â Tag 2 friends who NEED some sarcasm in their life â Sign up at the link in bio đ BONUS ENTRIES: Share this post to your story & tag us for 5 extra chances to win! đĽ PLUS! Donât wait to winâGet 20% OFF ANY ORDER right now with code GIVEAWAY20! đĽ âł Giveaway ends February 27 at 11:59PM â Enter Now! đ đ Tap the link in bio & enter now! https://chortlewear.com/pages/giveaways | SIGN_UP | https://chortlewear.com/pages/giveaways | Chortle Wear | https://www.facebook.com/61571579782236/ | 72 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Sign up | 0 | chortlewear.com | IMAGE | Discover Chortle Wear, your go-to for cheeky, sarcastic t-shirts that make a bold statement. Our print-on-demand graphic apparel combines fun fashion with witty humor, offering unique designs that let your personality shine. Perfect for those who love to stand out with style and sass. Shop now and l... | https://chortlewear.com/pages/giveaways | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481259019_663840996108344_2054730680640198410_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ViG5_-a-ZzgQ7kNvgG-Q9Ag&_nc_oc=AdgjDxS8F41kVm5FZVXUUO2E_CNv7iDgib0FSJsmCvNdFZjZLCgLvUzxOzxVxcqmzpQIPHRzcZ60MZenIqsC_IJ3&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AU_PVGLiijP2EwZx3ePygC4&oh=00_AYD8GHHd1cNtjmgZ8Y3vz5T9HevlyBwhzgZsXcf0X4utWw&oe=67C2F8DF | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Chortle Wear | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-02-25 16:51 | active | 2627 | 0 | Best survival games in 2024 | INSTALL_MOBILE_APP | http://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.r | Dark War Survival Mobile | https://www.facebook.com/61566393095967/ | 469 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Install now | 0 | play.google.com | VIDEO | http://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.readygo.dark.gp | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476237000_494164193516414_8722150205991308989_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=6RDWmSOEUU0Q7kNvgFf7sHm&_nc_oc=Adga5QX9La5ZzvhxGGkkAd2hxoFJyicAZxMEhF5WN0jGP-_A3A6LKyrb_jx7BWjCuNciCiTS_JwZjRWa1oOiXgpN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AdS7V9Y1SnKfPrk-7_ZPEil&oh=00_AYCnvMwAwUlf_2OLUWAoNj88mQ-tcUSAcLEGNCXalV9bAQ&oe=67C40848 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Dark War Survival Mobile | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Hello Congratulations!!! Iâm Julie leach the Powerball PowerPlay Winner, so you have been fortuitously picked among our electoral machine on Facebook lucky winners getting $500,000, this month from my giveaway program going on so if you are seeing this you are among the lucky winners send a direct message with a claim code BL670 | MESSAGE_PAGE | Julie leach | https://www.facebook.com/61573216121892/ | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Send message | 0 | MULTI_IMAGES | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481098890_1401718227657865_4468948454589043935_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HvagOWf9SRMQ7kNvgFfRZwX&_nc_oc=AdhMgI4Dawe61ZJS2TRX0E4jD2VM3pg2k2XEjeWPb6QtO-ecJR8CEZccxDeTwHz7gd-yIErqhq2ZETr8DLSKcgtp&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AAm27C7UOSX52TIZpeqBlv2&oh=00_AYCym1jais_e9ccnJP78OERq-PzL-BOfs1f16mKLxjCPEQ&oe=67C2F7D4 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Julie leach | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2025-02-24 19:43 | active | 2625 | 0 | Read next chapter | On her wedding day, her stepsister set her up, framing her with accusations of promiscuity, academic fraud, and attempted murder. She was personally brought to court by her fiancĂŠ and imprisoned for three years, enduring inhuman torment! ===== On the day Khloe Evans was put on trial by her fiance, it was raining heavily. "Khloe Evans, you are suspected of bribing competition judges, academic fraud, and attempted homicide. Do you plead guilty or not?" Inside the silent and solemn courtroom, the judge's gavel echoed, signaling the start of a tense moment. Khloe's bl**dshot eyes were filled with anger and desperation, staring at Eric Watson, her fiance. She couldn't help but sneer. They had spent four years from falling in love to getting married; she had always believed that he loved her deeply and that their married life would be blissful. But on their wedding day, he personally put her on trial because of her stepsister's words. The Watson family was one of the wealthiest and most influential families in the country. No one would dare to offend them for a nobody like her. Khloe said word by word, "I have nothing to say." All along, she thought Eric was the love of her life. But it turned out he had been having an a**air with her stepsister, Sloane Evans. What was more, he had stolen her academic achievements. And now, he falsely accused her of being a m*rderer. He was ruthless. What else could she say? The judge banged his gavel again and gave his verdict. "The court hereby sentences the defendant, Khloe Evans, to eight years in prison and a fine of three hundred thousand dollars." The trial concluded, and the prison guards escorted Khloe. As she walked out of the courtroom, Khloe turned and looked back at Eric, sitting in the plaintiff's seat, her eyes burning with deep hatred and fury. ...... Three years had passed. "Khloe Evans, someone has bailed you out. You're free to go." Upon hearing that, Khloe raised her head, her pale face filled with shock. After suffering from endless torture for three years, she had thought that she was bound to stay there for the full sentence. She didn't expect that she would be released one day. An hour after she was released from prison, Khloe was taken to a hospital. She entered a ward, and her heart clenched when she saw her mother through the ICU door, lying motionless in the hospital bed. With a pale face and various apparatus connected to her body, she looked lifeless. "Mom..." Khloe got all worked up, her voice trembling with emotion. She wanted to open the door and go in. "Stop it! This ward is specially secured. No one is allowed to enter without my permission." A female voice suddenly rang out behind her. Khloe turned around and was surprised to see the person who spoke. "Sloane? My mom severed ties with the Evans family long ago. Why are you still doing this to her?" As she spoke, she glared at Sloane with eyes full of hatred. Sloane looked at Khloe, a flicker of jealousy and disdain flashing across her eyes. Then, she sneered, "Khloe, looks like you are mistaken. I'm saving her. Without me, your mother would have died long ago. Perhaps, by the time you come out of prison, you will only see her tomb." Khloe took a deep breath to calm herself down. "Sloane, stop being so hypocritical. You are saving my mother? Only a fool will believe that. What are you really up to? You're using her to manipulate me, right?" "Khloe, you're as clever as ever. No wonder they called you the rising star of academia. But it's a pity that you are now a convict for attempted murder. And your fate is in my hands," Sloane taunted. "So, today, all you need to do is spend a night with Karl Russell. Then, I'll arrange for your release and your mother's treatment." "Karl Russell? That old man is already in his sixties. Are you out of your mind?" Khloe's eyes widened in disbelief. "So what? Should I care? It's you who are going to sleep with him, not me. As long as you spend one night with him, our family can secure the Russell family's arms deal. It's a very lucrative business. You should feel honored that you are selling out your body to make so much money for us. But if you refuse..." Sloane pointed to the ICU. "I'll have them remove your mom's life support, and she'll die right in front of you. I'll give you five seconds to decide. Five, four, three..." "Fine! I'll go," Khloe agreed in despair. This time, she could no longer suppress the tears she had been holding back. She was left with no choice. For the sake of her mother, she had to do it. After freshening up, Khloe was put into a car. Tonight, she was destined to sleep with a sixty-something disgusting man. And she was still a v**gin. Chapter 2 Henrik Watson That night, the car glided through the deserted streets, headlights cutting into the night's inky darkness. Bang! A g*nshot shattered the silence, deafening and ominously close. Glass sprayed across the seats as the car window exploded, fragments glittering in the dim streetlights. All hell broke loose. Terrified creams echoed in the street as the few remaining shops hurried to lower their shutters. The driver, white-faced and trembling, veered in a panic. The car skidded, tires screeching before slamming into the curb. He slumped forward, unconscious. Beside him, Khloe blinked, disoriented from the impact. Pressing a hand to her throbbing head, she tried to make sense of what had happened. Through the cracked window, she glimpsed flickering orange flames a short distance away. "Oh, no!" She'd stumbled straight into the deadly crossfires of a g*nfight. It was likely a turf war turned ugly by two warring gangs. Steadying herself, Khloe pushed open the door and crouched low, inching towards the roadside. But before she could move further, a figure emerged from the darkness. Tall and powerfully built, he was moving fast. Even though a mask obscured most of his features, she could still see his intense eyes and the proud outline of his nose. A dark stain spread across his side, seeping through his clothes--bl**d. He stumbled towards her, breathing heavily, and collapsed at her feet. Just then, another group of burly men burst from the shadows, each armed to the teeth. Their faces were etched with vicious determination, each bearing a t**too on the hand. "Perfect! He's down. Now, finish him off!" The leader, bald and snarling, held up his g*n and pointed it towards the fallen man. Then, his gaze fell on Khloe. She was dressed to the nines, as she was meant to be a gift for a man tonight. A tight red dress hugged her perfect figure, accentuating her curves and complimenting her porcelain skin. Her glossy hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a delicate, doll-like face with wide, innocent eyes. In a word, she looked like a vision from a dream--or a man's t**ptation made flesh. The bald man's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with le**erous intent. He had never seen such a beautiful woman before, and he wasn't about to let an opportunity like this slide. "While you're finishing him off, I'll help myself to this beauty." He lunged, shoving Khloe back against the shattered window, pressing his weight against her. "No, please!" she pleaded, her voice trembling as she tried to pull away. "Please don't hurt me." "Why would I hurt a beauty like you?" he taunted, his fingers gripping her shoulder tightly as he leaned closer, his hot breath on her skin. His men jeered behind him, urging him on, enjoying the show. But Khloe's hand moved, almost imperceptibly, reaching into her purse. In one swift, desperate motion, her fingers closed around a pen, and she drove it up into his neck with a fierce thrust. The bald man's eyes widened in shock as bl**d spurted from the wound, his grip loosening. Gone was the look of a damsel in distress; her eyes, which were so full of fear just a second earlier, now glinted with a cold light. What was once a delicate, angelic beauty had transformed into a bl**d-stained rose, dark and dangerous. "B**ch, you're asking for it!" The henchmen froze for a split second, then fury overcame them, and they charged at Khloe with murderous intent. Her voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. "Don't move, or I'll pull the pen out! He'll bleed out on the spot!" The men abruptly stopped in their tracks. No one dared to move a muscle. At this moment, the man who'd been lying motionless suddenly sprang to life, g*n in hand, and unleashed a hail of b*llets on the stunned th*gs. He moved with such agility that it was clear his injury had only been a ruse. Even the bald man Khloe held hostage collapsed in a bl**dy heap, a bullet having shattered his skull in an instant. Khloe spun her head just in time, avoiding the bl**d splatter. But her clothes and legs weren't so lucky; they were stained with bl**d, sticky and warm. "Ugh!" The sickly, metallic scent hit her, and her stomach churned. She couldn't stop herself from retching, knees buckling as she collapsed sideways. But before she hit the ground, an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her upright. The man's grip was firm, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Feisty little thing, weren't you so badass just a second ago? What happened?" Khloe recoiled, shoving him away, her face twisting in defiance. "Let go of me!" Before she could get another word out, black-clad men suddenly emerged from the shadows, their faces hard, eyes cold. Even the surrounding rooftops showed silhouettes of these men, controlling all sniper points. Each man moved with such deadly precision, and Khloe could tell at a glance that they were all experienced killers. They brandished machine guns and rocket launchers with practiced ease, as though these were everyday items. In a word, they looked like an elite strike force--battle-hardened, lethal. Unexpectedly, one by one, they all started dropping to their knees, as though bowing before a king. Thousands of them bowed in unison. "Awaiting your orders, Mr. Watson," the leader announced reverently. Khloe's breath hitched. "Are you Henrik Watson?" Chapter 3 The Kiss Henrik accepted a handkerchief from his trusted aide, Rhett Foster, wiping the bl**d from his hands with deliberate, almost regal precision. He then removed his mask slowly, revealing a face that could seize anyone's breath. His eyes were dark, magnetic pools, deep enough to pull anyone in. And above his perfectly-shaped lips was a prominent, sculpted nose. His chiseled features conveyed both power and beauty, almost too flawless to belong to any ordinary man. It was the kind of face that could eclipse even the brightest stars in the showbiz. But more than his appearance, it was his aura--commanding, indomitable--that sent shivers down spines. This was a man who held dominion over countless lives. Henrik smiled, a flash of danger glinting in his eyes. "So what if I am?" Khloe's eyes went as wide as saucers. Henrik Watson--that name carried the weight of legend. Henrik had once been a branch member of the Watson family before vanishing into obscurity for ten long years. When he resurfaced, he singlehandedly seized control of the nation's underworld, rendering him a king without rival. In fact, he was so powerful that even the president treaded carefully around him. Khloe's ex-fiance, Eric, was a member of the Watson family, which had ascended from obscurity to supremacy solely thanks to Henrik. By blood, Eric was Henrik's nephew. So, if her marriage to Eric pushed through, Henrik would be her husband's uncle. Khloe's stepsister, Sloane, had maneuvered her into offering herself to Karl Russell. Though Karl held sway in the city, he was nothing against Henrik's underworld might. It was like comparing a lion to a mouse. As the thought struck her, hope flickered within Khloe. If she could gain Henrik's support, she might escape her forced sacrifice, and her mother could be saved. Steadying her breath, she asked tentatively, "Since I just helped you, could I ask you a favor?" Henrik's gaze sharpened, eyes gleaming with intrigue. It was the first time a woman had faced him with such poise, especially after witnessing him kill so many people. Interest piqued, Henrik strode towards Khloe with an almost lazy confidence, each step measured and unhurried. His sculpted fingers pinched her chin, lifting it so she was looking right at him. He held her gaze as he studied her with a trace of amusement in his eyes. His voice, low and rich, sent a chill through the air. "Do you have any idea who you're talking to? Aren't you afraid I'll kill you?" A shiver raced through Khloe's heart. His presence was overwhelming, like a storm cloud closing in, suffocating in its intensity. He was dangerous--merely speaking to him was like playing with fire. But she had nowhere else to turn; Henrik was her only chance. "I have a Ph.D. in chemistry and medicine, along with patents--highly profitable ones. If you help me, I can make you money," she said, voice steady but with a glint of desperation. Henrik shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Money?" he murmured, his fingers brushing her cheek. "Do I look like I lack money?" The scent of bl**d clung faintly to his skin, chilling her even as he remained outwardly gentle. Khloe's guard went up instinctively, her body tensing beneath his touch. "What do you want?" she ventured cautiously. "If it's within my power, I'm willing to exchange anything." A spark flickered in Henrik's dark eyes, something enigmatic and unreadable. He let his gaze drift over her as if considering her offer. "Anything, you say?" All of a sudden, he let out a chilling laugh. "Then I want this." In one swift motion, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. And there, before all his men, he kissed her. Chapter 4 Decisive Action The kiss came unexpectedly. Khloe was caught off guard, unable to respond in time. Henrik's subordinates stood frozen, their eyes wide with disbelief. They had all worked for him for years, and never once had they seen him so close with a woman. Henrik had always been the type to keep his distance from women. In the past, women who approached him either ended up as fish food or were sent to toil in the mines at his orders. What kind of spell had this woman cast? How was it that she managed to make Henrik abandon all his usual rules, and all on their very first meeting? As the crowd remained stunned and puzzled, Khloe's thoughts swirled in chaos, making it impossible to think straight. Henrik's kiss was overwhelming, like a storm crashing down on her, leaving her breathless and dizzy. She found herself trapped in his arms, held so tightly it felt as though she were a flower caught in a violent storm. Yet she was anything but fragile. Once the shock wore off, a surge of anger rose within her. For years, she had endured humiliation, her fall from grace plunging her into the darkest depths. But giving up was never an option; she had always been plotting her revenge. It was only natural that she refused to yield. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss with equal ferocity. After all, what harm could a kiss do? And the man was both devastatingly handsome and of high standing. She would not suffer any losses. She skillfully fought back with her t**gue, refusing to let him dominate her entirely. Instead of pulling back, she met his intensity head-on, taking the lead. What began as a one-sided kiss quickly transformed into a fierce exchange, each of them vying for control, pushing and pulling in a heated battle for dominance. The kiss was fierce and all-consuming, each second more passionate than the last, until they were both gasping for air. When they finally pulled away, their lips were swollen and stained with bl**d, a testament to the intensity of the moment. Henrik let go of Khloe, his hand brushing against the corner of his mouth where her teeth had left their mark. His gaze was intense, locking onto her with a depth that seemed to pierce right through her. Khloe held his stare steadily, not flinching or showing even the slightest sign of discomfort. Her fearless attitude earned her the respect of those watching. It was clear now why Henrik was drawn to her. She was bold, with a courage that couldn't be ignored. She had the audacity to bite Henrik's lips, unafraid of the consequences. Henrik continued to gaze at Khloe, a growing satisfaction building within him. The sting on his lips reminded him sharply of what had just happened. The woman standing before him, with a face as stunning as an angel's, was no delicate flower. She was a thorny rose, and anyone foolish enough to underestimate her would undoubtedly pay the price. But that was exactly what made her so captivating--it was the danger beneath the beauty that drew him in. "Mr. Watson, is everything to your liking?" Khloe asked, breaking the stillness. "Yes, let's go," Henrik replied with a smile. "Now, let's take care of your little issue." ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &9& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65284322-fb_contact-e | Romance Novel | https://www.facebook.com/100083771162998/ | 48,210 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65284322-fb_contact-enp98_2-1210-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=DD7CCA935D14747FCDC0ABCA31FDC6F800D1E2355AAC332F | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474987703_988189259856431_3645657765235066245_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=41EK94cy_L4Q7kNvgE2HacL&_nc_oc=Adhdb31j377VhjEnLtPf7Bo681v9dpt_QGB70-XujKrpsuew8FgU4Uzk8Yzex-AeK7hkyI7UHqWRed5LTy3baZLv&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AHnDIHd1vO8SiV58v592ypa&oh=00_AYAOSv-vEyYZp4DkPbeYF3kwZtdIaqvjCAbE8U9WkBGr8g&oe=67C2D9EB | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Romance Novel | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-02-24 19:00 | active | 2623 | 0 | ⨠**SHARE & WIN!** ⨠Hey crystal enthusiasts! đ Weâre hosting an exciting giveaway to spread the love for our stunning **mineral specimens** and exclusive designs! đ Hereâs how to join: 1ď¸âŁ **Share our promotional video** on your story or feed within **one week** of this post. 2ď¸âŁ **Tag our account** (@mineral_crystal_alena) so we can see your entry! 3ď¸âŁ **Follow us**, keep your **like & share screenshot**, and **DM us** with the screenshot to enter! đ **Whatâs in it for you?** - A **$20 voucher** to use in our store! - A chance to win the exclusive **âAmethyst Glowâ** designed by Alenaâfeaturing **plump, radiant amethyst beads** with **gold and diamond accents**. đ⨠Winners will be contacted via DM. Act fast and donât forget to save your screenshot! đ Letâs grow our crystal-loving community togetherâshare, tag, and win! đ #MineralSpecimens #CrystalSpecimens #MetallicMinerals #CrystalCollector #GeologyRocks #AmethystLovers #Mineralogy #CrystalHealing #RareMinerals #GemstoneJewelry #Rockhounding #MineralMagic #CrystalGiveaway #ShareAndWin #LuxuryDesigns #ContestAlert | VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE | http://instagram.com/crystal_factory_alena | Crystal and minerals | https://www.facebook.com/61571636831341/ | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Visit Instagram profile | 0 | instagram.com | VIDEO | http://instagram.com/crystal_factory_alena | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480793172_1012360490770425_178823272011610950_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=_NSMr-NhifsQ7kNvgFMAGSb&_nc_oc=AdhZPVeNsnLaj8UBBi7d44jsYPgv1arG-KFDsUKGi_joDELMLOnyY6JnVrnR26-rofPViqDS0oBAnN4C5jFIV5OI&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A8A0tNP7YoXjxGOupKbtA9V&oh=00_AYAG121O5EK-JLn_-OV60RMZTY_nJpdq92AfOcP2VPsyRg&oe=67C2CEF0 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Crystal and minerals | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-02-24 19:42 | active | 2625 | 0 | đRead the next chaptersđ | In Merika State, the two of them lay close together on the hotel bed. As their passion grew, Justin Yatesâs husky voice, filled with allure, murmured, âEm, how about having a child with me?â Caught up in the moment, Emily Yates replied without thinking. It wasnât until they were lying together afterward that she remembered what he had said. âA child?â she repeated, a trace of intimacy lingering in her eyes. The look stirred Justinâs desire again. She was a constant temptation to him. Pushing those thoughts aside, he pulled out a ring and slipped it onto her left hand. âAre you proposing to me?â she asked. âYes.â âCan I finally have your child now?â Justin asked, smiling. His eyes were warm, but there was no love in them, as if he were gazing past her, waiting for someone elseâs answer. âIâll give you plenty,â she replied, momentarily surprised. Proposing in bed wasnât exactly romantic or formal, but she didnât mind. She had waited three years for this moment, and it was worth it. Three years ago, she had been injured near the beach, hitting her head on a rock. When she woke up, she had no memory. Justin had saved her. The first thing she saw when she woke was his face, and one look left her captivated. Later, she learned that Justin had paid her hospital bills. She also learned of his identity. He was the CEO of RC Corporation. He proposed that she be his contract lover, and without hesitation, she agreed. They signed an agreement, defining their relationship, and he gave her the name Emily Yates. Yes, she was drawn to his looks. Despite their arrangement, the past three years felt like any other relationship. In the first year, she was a hidden lover. In the second, he introduced her as his girlfriend to his circle. Now, with three years approaching, he was proposing. Once she was part of his social circle, she heard whispers about a woman who had been his first love, someone he cherished deeply in college. She had disappeared without a trace, and he had been searching for her ever since. Over the years, Justin had lost hope she was still alive. That was why he finally proposed. Emily didnât mind. Everyone has a past. Looking at the diamond ring on her left ring finger, she felt like it had all been worth it. The sound of running water came from the bathroom. Justin was showering. Calming down, Emily wrapped a towel around herself and got out of bed to pick up their scattered clothes. A soft *clink* echoed as something hit the floor. It was Justinâs cardholder. She bent down to pick it up, and a photo slipped out. It was old, with frayed edges, as if it had been looked at countless times. The woman in the photo looked like her but younger, just how she would have looked three years ago. Emily didnât remember ever taking this photo, but she had lost her memory. Maybe she had forgotten. She was just about to put the cardholder back when a large, slender hand appeared, taking it from her. Justin emerged from the bathroom, his hair still damp and falling over his eyes, now tinged with a hint of displeasure. âDonât touch my things,â he said coldly, his tone a sharp contrast to the intimacy they had just shared. Turning away from her, he put the cardholder back in his briefcase, his whole demeanor suddenly distant and guarded. Emily froze. Was he really getting defensive over a photo? She looked at him, confused. Wasnât that her old picture? Before she could ask, Justin seemed to realize that his reaction had been out of line. He turned back and grasped her chin. With a playful glint in his eye, he ran his thumb over her still-swollen lips, toying with them. His voice was cool, devoid of warmth, but his words were deeply suggestive, clearly aiming to change the subject. âWeâre going to be late for the art exhibit. If you rather stay here, I wouldnât mind going another round.â Her cheeks flushed at his teasing, and she gently pushed him away. Her thoughts were scattered, and she quickly forgot about the photo. Justin had come to Merika State on business and had received an invitation to an art exhibition by Haley Quinn. He brought Emily along, planning to take her to the show once his work was done. Haley, a painter who had withdrawn from the public eye three years ago, rarely held exhibitions, making this one a rare event. Emily dressed quickly, while Justin had already changed into a fresh suit. The gallery was close to the hotel, so they walked there. Arm in arm, they strolled down the street, enjoying the perfect atmosphere. Just as Emily felt an overwhelming sense of happiness, Justin suddenly stopped. âJustin, whatâs wrong?â She followed his gaze. Across the street, a disheveled woman, her clothes too dirty to recognize their original color, was recklessly crossing the traffic, oblivious to the danger. The woman pushed Emily aside and wrapped her arms tightly around Justinâs waist. She sobbed uncontrollably, gasping for air. âJustin, I finally found you. You came looking for me, didnât you?â Emily stumbled from the shove, the bright sunlight momentarily blinding her. The woman looked eerily familiar. She resembled the one in the photo from the cardholder and, in a way, even looked like Emily herself. âEmma? Is that really you?â Justinâs voice trembled, his eyes locked onto the woman in his arms, as if afraid she might disappear again. Just moments ago, he had proposed to Emily. Now, right there in the street, he held another woman. He gently wiped away the womanâs tears with a tenderness so delicate, as if afraid of breaking something precious. âYes, itâs me,â the woman sobbed, nodding desperately. Frail as she was, she clung to him. Justin was known for his fastidiousness and love of cleanliness, but he now held her tightly. He was soothing her with gentle words, as if she were a lost treasure he had finally recovered. He was afraid that even the slightest rough movement might hurt her. They seemed oblivious to everything around them, including Emily. Justin seemed to have forgotten Emily was still there. The woman in his arms had cried herself into unconsciousness. He took off his expensive jacket and draped it over her. He then slipped his arms under her knees and held her tightly as he carried her back toward the hotel. Emily stood there, feeling like an outsider. Her arm still ached from where she had been shoved, and she could still feel the warmth of Justinâs touch lingering around her waist. Just minutes ago, he had been tangled up with her in bed, proposing marriage. Now, he was leaving her in the middle of the street, carrying a woman who seemed to come out of nowhere. He had tossed aside his usual grace, holding this woman, who looked like a beggar, and rushed back to the hotel. The people around them pointed and whispered, like they were watching some sort of spectacle. Emily wanted to follow him, but her first step faltered. She steadied herself against a nearby building, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the window. Her flawless makeup now showed a hint of disarray. Chapter 2 Tears had fallen without her noticing, smudging the fresh makeup around her eyes. Emily glanced down at the diamond ring on her left hand, a sense of foreboding spreading through her. The sudden appearance of this woman might shatter the happiness she had been waiting for. She couldnât just stand here. She had to know who this woman was. After a moment to gather herself, she headed back to the hotel. The plane flew from Merika State back to Haven State. At Lichfield Hospital, Emily stood at the door of a hospital room, arms crossed, trying to see inside through the window. Justinâs friend, Zac White, the director of Lichfield Hospital, along with other doctors, were examining the restless woman on the hospital bed. Two female nurses held her steady as they conducted their checks. On the plane, her face had already been cleaned, and she had been given fresh clothes. âEmma Xander? Hasnât she... disappeared for the past four years?â Zac was shocked. Where had Justin found her? The Yates and White families had pulled every string they could to find Emma, but after four years with no trace, they had finally given up. And now, here she was. After completing their examination, the doctors and nurses left the room. A heavy silence fell over the space. A moment later, Justinâs voice seemed to echo from a distance as he gazed at the woman, now sound asleep after a sedative. âHow is she doing?â âSheâs malnourished, traumatized, and a bit disoriented, but otherwise fine. She just needs some time to recover.â Justin stood by her bedside, clearly prepared to stay with her. Zac hesitated, wanting to say something, but thought better of it and left the room. He opened the door to find Emily waiting outside. Feeling awkward for his friend, Zac adjusted his silver-framed glasses and greeted her with a polite smile. âHi, Miss Yates.â Emily nodded in acknowledgment. âDr. White, whatâs her name? And what is her relationship with Justin?â she asked bluntly, desperate to know who this woman was. Zac hesitated, uncertain how to explain that Emma was Justinâs long-lost first love. This was his friendâs private matter, after all, and not his to reveal. Before he could find the words, Justin opened the door and saw them standing outside. He frowned, clearly displeased. âDidnât I tell you to go home? Why are you still here?â Justinâs voice dripped with disdain and impatience, as if his irritation had taken on a life of its own. Emily stood her ground, unafraid. She needed answers. âYou proposed to me in Merika State just 16 hours ago, but now youâre holding another woman and completely ignoring me. And youâre not even coming home? Staying out all night?â âStop being unreasonable. Leave. Now,â he ordered, his voice cold and commanding, his gaze on her as though she were an unruly employee who had crossed the line. Seeing Justinâs dark expression, Zac stepped in, concerned that Emily might end up on the losing side of this argument. When Justin was angry, it rarely boded well for anyone. âItâs late. Let me arrange a car to take Miss Yates home,â Zac offered, trying to ease the tension. Emily, however, refused Zacâs offer. She wasnât leaving without answers. âYou think Iâm being unreasonable? Iâm your fiancĂŠe. You left me on the street in a foreign country to carry another woman away without a second thought. Did you ever consider how I felt? âIâll go, but only if you leave the hospital with me. There are doctors and nurses here to care for that woman. Right now, youâre coming home with me.â Desperate, Emily reached out to grab Justinâs arm. But before she could make contact, her arm was blocked by Justinâs personal bodyguard, William Carter. Emily was stunned, unable to believe what she was seeing. It felt as though her heart was being torn in two. Justin had always been there for her, always caring, always the first to pick up her calls, no matter if he was in a meeting or on a business trip. If she ever needed him, he would show up immediately. If she couldnât be reached, he would search the whole city until he found her. But now, with this woman in the hospital room, he wouldnât even let her near him? âWhat do you mean by this?â Emilyâs voice trembled, mirroring the unease in her heart. Justin didnât respond. He stared at her with cold, detached eyes, as if she were a stranger and not the fiancĂŠe he had just proposed to. Time seemed to stretch, each second feeling like an eternity. Finally, he spoke, his words sharp and emotionless. âDonât be childish.â Childish? Once, he had said he loved how she depended on him, how she claimed him for herself. And now he was calling her childish? âIf you want to stay here with her, then what about our marriage? You proposed to me just today!â Emilyâs heart ached, squeezing painfully in her chest. She knew it wasnât the right moment to bring this up, but she couldnât accept the idea that her future husband would spend the night in the hospital with another woman. Zac stood nearby, listening in shock. Marriage? Had Justin really proposed to Emily? And what about Emma in the hospital room? Justin glanced over his shoulder, worried that the woman asleep in the hospital bed might hear them and wake up. Emily noticed the concern in his eyes. It was an expression she had seen many times when he had worried about her. But now, that look was for someone else. He turned back to Emily, his voice still icy. âIf you donât want to get married, we can call it off. This isnât the place for your drama. William, have the driver take her home.â He didnât like being threatened, especially when it came to his marriage. Without another glance at her, he opened the door to the hospital room and went back inside. William stepped forward, maintaining his respectful tone. âMiss Yates, please donât make this difficult for me. Itâs time for you to go home.â Zac looked at Emily with sympathy. âMiss Yates, itâs late. Maybe itâs best to talk things over with Justin another time.â But how could they ever discuss this again? Her fiancĂŠ had just left her humiliated, choosing to stay with another woman without a care for her dignity. The hospital hallway lights felt harsh, blinding her with their brightness. Realizing that staying there made her look like a fool, Emily decided she wouldnât let herself be a spectacle for others to watch. Clenching her purse tightly, Emily turned to leave. As she took a step, her vision blurred, and she nearly collapsed. Both Zac and William rushed to steady her, their grip gentlemanly but firm. âIâll walk you to the car,â Zac offered. Leaning against the wall, Emily took a moment to steady herself, then shook her head. âIâm fine. I can get back on my own.â Her footsteps wobbled as she walked down the hallway, but she managed to keep her head high until she was out of their sight. After returning to the hospital room, Justin glanced down at Emma, who lay pale and frail on the bed. A strange weight settled in his chest, and the pervasive smell of antiseptic only added to his irritation. He tugged at his shirt collar, unbuttoning the top two buttons, but the air still felt suffocating. He stepped back out into the hallway, finding Zac and William waiting there. Emily was gone. âShe left?â he asked, visibly more at ease now that she was no longer around. He didnât want her disturbing Emmaâs rest. âYes, sheâs gone,â Zac replied, hands in the pockets of his lab coat, nodding. With both of them standing there, Justin didnât bother asking how Emily had left. âIâm stepping out for a break,â he said. Chapter 3 âSo, Emma Xanderâs back. What are you going to do?â Zac asked, breaking the silence. He didnât mention Emily, but they both knew what he meant. One woman was the college sweetheart, the first love who had once saved Justinâs life. The other was the girlfriend who had been with him for three years, sharing his most intimate moments, and now, his fiancĂŠe. After a long pause, Justin replied, his voice cold and detached. âShe was just a stand-in. She could never compare to Emma.â He went on, his tone utterly indifferent, as if he hadnât been the one to propose to Emily in Merika State. âThe role of Mrs. Yates will never be hers. It can only belong to Emma.â In a way, Emily had saved him the trouble of saying it himself when she had brought up their marriage in the hallway. Zac and Justin had been close friends since childhood, both growing up in privileged families, each carrying a bit of that self-centered mindset typical of their social circle. But this time, Zac couldnât help feeling sorry for Emily. Emily, though an orphan with no family or wealth, was straightforward and honest. Over the past three years, she had complemented Justin perfectly, and in Zacâs eyes, they had seemed genuinely happy together. On the other hand, considering how long Emma had been abroad, it wasnât hard to guess what she might have gone through. Zac didnât care about things like V-card or a womanâs past, but he had always found Emma to be somewhat pretentious. Even back in college, she often disregarded Justinâs concerns, running off on her own without a second thought. After graduation, she mysteriously vanished during an overseas reunion party organized by a close group of alumni. Despite mobilizing every possible connection, they never found her. Even the police suggested they give up, implying that a young woman disappearing overseas was likely gone for good. At that time, Justin hadnât fully taken over the company and wasnât yet experienced in handling crises like these. Around the same time, his father, Henry Yates, was in a car accident and died despite emergency treatment. After the funeral, Justin was suddenly thrust into the dual responsibilities of inheriting the company and fending off his uncle, Harry Yates, who was trying to seize control. Thanks to his grandfatherâs intervention, Justin managed to stabilize the corporation. By then, the critical window to find Emma had long passed, and any chance of finding her had all but disappeared. Zac clearly remembered how Justin had been consumed with frustration and self-blame during those days. And then Emily had come into his life, bringing him some peace. For that, Zac was truly grateful to her. âEmilyâs been with you for three years,â Zac said, trying to speak up for her. âSheâs an orphan, with no one else in the world. Isnât it a bit cruel to treat her like this?â âThen Iâll keep her around,â Justin replied casually, brushing it off like it was no big deal. âBut marriage? Thatâs not going to happen.â His tone was so offhanded, as if having another woman around didnât matter at all. He didnât see a problem with it. Keep her around? Really? Was he expecting her to stay hidden away as his stand-in lover, someone he kept out of sight? A mistress? A side piece? Emily didnât leave the hospital right away. She sat on a bench behind the flower bed, letting the cold night air wash over her. She hadnât expected to find out the truth like this. It turned out she was only here because she happened to look almost exactly like his lost one true love. And since she had lost her memory, he saw the perfect opportunity to mold her into the image of the woman he truly missed, hiding the truth from her and using her as a substitute. All the affection and indulgence he had shown her, it was never really for her. It was for the woman he had lost. Emma Xander. So that was her name, the one he had loved all his life. That was why he named her Emily, a name that allowed him to keep calling out for the one he had always loved. Even in their most intimate moments, he would call her âEm.â Whenever he whispered âEmâ in that deep, seductive voice, full of passion, she would lose herself completely, sinking further into him. It turned out he was simply looking at her face and calling out another womanâs name all along. It dawned on her that the photo in Justinâs wallet must have been of Emma, not her. She had foolishly assumed the woman in that picture was herself. What a joke. From start to finish, Justin had shaped her into the image of his hidden love, his one true love. And she had naively believed that she had won him over, making him fall in love with her. In truth, she was nothing more than a piece in their story. Emily felt her heart plunge from a mountaintop to the depths of despair. She had gone from being a proud fiancĂŠe to a hidden stand-in, a shadow. She had liked, maybe even loved Justin. But her pride couldnât accept that she had been someone elseâs replacement all along, or that she was now the secret other woman. Resolved to leave, she felt a small sense of relief that Justin had only proposed. They werenât married yet, and breaking up would be far easier than going through a divorce. For a moment, she felt grateful for Emmaâs sudden appearance. âMiss Yates, where are you?â the driver called, stepping out of the car after waiting a while. âIâm here.â Emily pulled herself from her thoughts, putting on her usual calm expression. âIs it just you? Whereâs Mr. Yates?â he asked. âHeâs not coming back.â Emily rose from the bench by the flower bed and walked back to the car with the driver. She wore a cream-colored, knee-length dress in a sweet, innocent style. As an artist, she was open to trying any look, but it was Justin who had said he liked this style. So, for the past three years, she had dressed this way for him. The spring breeze brushed her bare calves, sending a chill through her. Zac looked a bit uncomfortable, âEmily didnât leave?â So, she had heard everything they had said. Justinâs tone was just as indifferent, cold, and unfeeling. âGood. Let her hear it. She needs to know her place and avoid causing any more scenes like tonight.â With that, he turned and walked away from the garden, completely unfazed by the fact that Emily had overheard him. Emily sat quietly during the ride back to Villa One. Mrs. Zimmer greeted her at the door, her face lighting up warmly after a few days apart. âYouâre back! It mustâve been tiring, traveling with Mr. Yates.â Emily nodded wearily, barely acknowledging her. âYes.â âWhereâs Mr. Yates?â Mrs. Zimmer glanced behind her, looking for Justin. âHe wonât be back tonight.â Emilyâs voice was detached, as if his return made no difference to her. Mrs. Zimmer looked slightly disappointed at first, but then her face lit up with a knowing smile, the kind that came from having seen a lot in life. She took Emilyâs suitcase and gently urged her to go get some rest in the bedroom. Once inside, Emily understood Mrs. Zimmerâs smile. The room was dimly lit, with candles arranged at various heights, casting a soft, romantic glow. Flowers and scented candles adorned the surfaces, and a bottle of champagne sat open on the table. Even the usual heavy gray curtains had been replaced with delicate lace, adding an air of intimacy. The bed was covered in thick rose petals, the entire room transformed into a romantic setting. Clearly, this had been Justinâs arrangement before their trip. Exhausted, Emily didnât have the energy to clean up, and it was too late to bother Mrs. Zimmer. Chapter 4 Emily found the remote to turn on the lights, then looked for something handy to snuff out each candle one by one. Afterward, she retrieved her nightgown from the closet and headed for a shower. As she walked into the bathroom, she noticed the ring still on her left hand. She slipped it off and tossed it into the corner of her jewelry box. When she returned to the bedroom, she brushed all the rose petals off the bed and settled under the covers, pulling them over her head. She instinctively lay on the left side of the bed, where she was used to sleeping. Justin would always hold her close, gradually shifting over to the left with her until they were practically glued together. Now, the right side of the bed was glaringly empty. To fill the space, she scooted to the center, tossing the extra pillow onto the floor, finally feeling comfortable. She turned off the lights and went to sleep. Two days passed without any word from Justin. He was likely at the hospital with Emma or busy with work. Emily didnât care and hadnât reached out, maintaining a complete radio silence. The morning sun was bright, and the spring breeze was warm as she lounged on a deck chair in the villaâs garden, enjoying a face mask. Her mind wandered to practical matters. She had spent some time reviewing the contract she signed three years ago to be Justinâs âcontract lover.â It was set to expire automatically after three years, which was now less than four months away. When it ended, she would receive a payout of twenty million. Between that, and the allowance and holiday bonuses he had given her over the years, she had saved nearly six million. She had barely spent any of it, so it was all tucked away. It seemed she would be in decent shape financially, and finding a job after leaving wouldnât be too hard. As for a place to live, she could buy a similarly sized home, and maybe invite Helen to move in as a roommate. It would be nice to have company. She did regret not being able to take Mrs. Zimmer with her. If she could, it would be perfect. The phone on the coffee table buzzed, interrupting her thoughts. Emily picked it up, unlocked it with her fingerprint, and a new message notification popped up at the top of the screen. She tapped to open it. It was from her friend, Helen Walker. They had met a year ago while shopping, when Helen insisted on becoming friends after seeing her just once. With no memory of any past friendships, Emily had found Helen easy to talk to, and they had gradually become close. âHow was your time in Merika State? When are you coming back?â Helen had attached a mischievous emoji with a smirk. âIâm already back.â âAlready? That was quick.â âI thought Justin looked strong. Guess he didnât last long? Not up to it?â âNot just ânot up to itâ. He canât even get started.â Emily replied, seizing the chance to curse him. On the other end, Helen raised an eyebrow. It looked like Justin had managed to tick off her friend. But she wasnât too concerned as they had argued before. Couples fought, and it usually blew over. âPerfect timing then. Iâm heading to the TC Mall in a bit to stock up on some new clothes. Letâs hit the mall together and grab some food afterward. Get ready and meet me there.â âSounds good. Iâll see you at the mall.â Emily agreed readily. She had spent the past couple of days clearing out the sweet, youthful clothes she didnât like. Her wardrobe could use a refresh. She put down the phone and washed off her face mask. Glancing at the nearly empty wardrobe, she picked out a casual athletic outfit and did a quick, simple makeup look. Fresh and tidy, she got ready to head out. âMrs. Zimmer, Iâm meeting a friend to go shopping. Iâll have lunch out,â Emily said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. âAlright, Miss Yates. Will you be back for dinner?â Mrs. Zimmer, who was supervising the housekeeperâs cleaning, looked up to ask. Emily paused while slipping on her shoes, thinking about how unpredictable Helen could be and that they hadnât seen each other in a while. She might not be back for dinner. âNot sure yet. Iâll text you later if Iâll be back in time.â âUnderstood.â As Emily opened the door, she found Justinâs assistant, Sam Spencer, just about to knock. âHi, Sam,â she greeted him coolly, planning to step around him to leave. âHi, Miss Yates. Mr. Yates has a flight out of town this afternoon for a business trip. Could I trouble you to help pack his things before you go?â Samâs tone was respectful, as usual. Emily didnât move. âMrs. Zimmer, Justinâs going on a trip. Could you please help with his packing?â âMiss Yates, thisâŚ?â Samâs face showed confusion. âWhat? Before I came along, didnât Justin have someone to handle his luggage?â Her expression was calm, her tone light. âOf course. Youâre absolutely right, Miss Yates,â Sam replied, beads of sweat forming as he carefully balanced his response, not daring to offend either side. In the past, Emily had always packed for Justinâs business trips. She had done it so many times that she knew exactly what he would need for any occasion. But now, she had no desire to continue. He had used her as a stand-in, and every time he watched her pack his bags, he must have thought she looked foolish. Three years. Now that she thought back, there had been plenty of strange looks and behaviors from Justin that she hadnât picked up on. She had been utterly blind. But she wouldnât be foolish anymore. Emily was ready to leave, but Sam was blocking the door, preventing her from going. She urged Mrs. Zimmer to hurry with the packing. Mrs. Zimmer quickly filled the suitcase and handed it to Sam, who was waiting in the living room. He glanced at his watch. Ten minutes had barely passed. That was fast. "Mrs. Zimmer, are you sure itâs all packed? Should we check to make sure nothingâs missing?" he asked cautiously. Emily replied without emotion, âIsnât the flight at noon? If you keep dragging your feet, heâll miss it. Besides, anything he needs can be bought over there.â She checked her watch, starting to feel a bit pressed for time. If she delayed much longer, Helen would end up waiting impatiently, and they would miss out on shopping before lunch. And who wanted to try on clothes with a full stomach? âOf course, Miss Yates. Iâll head over to the office to pick up Mr. Yates,â Sam said with a polite smile, making his way out. Emily nodded and headed down to the garage. She chose a white luxury car and drove off. Meanwhile, Sam took the suitcase to the sleek black car parked discreetly by the curb. He placed it in the trunk, then settled into the front passenger seat. The driver, Justinâs bodyguard, William, started the car. But instead of heading to the airport, they were bound for Lichfield Hospital. âHow much longer until Emilyâs contract is up?â Justinâs voice was calm and emotionless, as if he were discussing a routine business matter. Sam immediately understood that the question was directed at him. He quickly recalled the contract details. âLess than four months, Mr. Yates.â âDraft a new agreement and deliver it to her when the time comes,â Justin instructed. Keeping her around for three years had cost him little, and continuing to support her wasnât an issue. But he was done with her. He wouldnât touch her again or return to Villa One. Recalling the scene from the hospital hallway two nights ago, he added without hesitation, âInclude a clause that ensures she never shows up in front of Emma again.â Sam was momentarily taken aback but quickly regained his professional composure. âUnderstood, Mr. Yates.â Chapter 5 People said billionaires were cold and indifferent in their personal lives, switching women as easily as they changed clothes. For the past three years, Mr. Yates had only been with Miss Yates, making him seem like a devoted man. But it looked like he could move on in an instant. Who knew how long Miss Xander would last by his side? Sam had joined the company three years ago, right when Justin took over RC Corporation, so he wasnât familiar with the complicated history between Emma and Justin. Inside TC Mall, Emily was browsing through clothes, each piece a far cry from her usual sweet and innocent style. âBabe, switching things up?â Helen asked, watching as Emily picked up a long black dress with a slitted hem. It would look stunning on Emilyâs curves. Emily held the dress up to herself in the mirror, unfazed. âYep, time for a change. Do you think this would look better with a shawl or a jacket?â She turned to give Helen a look. âA shawl, definitely. Itâll highlight your figure beautifully,â Helen replied with her usual style advice. âThatâs what I thought too.â Helen eyed the dress. âThat dress is so feminine. Will your guy even let you wear it out? Doesnât Justin only let you wear those sweet, innocent schoolgirl outfits?â Helen couldnât help but mentally criticize Justinâs taste. What kind of fashion sense did he have anyway? A multinational CEO, a man with a grip on the Haven State economy, yet he liked her to dress like a schoolgirl. âHis taste doesnât matter anymore. Itâs not something Iâm concerned about,â Emily replied casually, completely indifferent. She handed the dress to a fitting assistant with a similar build, having her try it on for her. High-end stores like this one often had staff who modeled the clothes for clients, so she didnât have to try them on herself. Emily picked out a few more items in different styles for the assistant to model. If she liked them, she would buy them. When she was satisfied with her choices, she scanned her card and paid, then filled out the delivery details for Villa One. The clothes would be sent straight there. After they had finished shopping, they went for lunch. With no one else around, Emily finally shared her situation with Helen that she had been Justinâs stand-in for his one true love. Now that his true love had returned, she was planning to leave him. âThat despicable man!â Helen burst out, her emotions flaring. âKeep it down.â Emily quickly covered Helenâs mouth and glanced around to see if anyone at nearby tables was paying attention to them. Helen lowered her voice but was still fuming. âJustin might look put-together, but heâs not even half a man. His first love disappears, so he goes and finds a stand-in? âWhy didnât he just get plastic surgery to look like her? Then he could see her every time he looked in the mirror. âGood for you for walking away. You should break up with him. No! Just breaking up is too good for that pompous human garbage! You need to dump him into the sewers!â LMAO, where did Helen even learn these insults from? Just then, the server brought out a tray with seasoned meats, fresh vegetables, and a variety of salsas. Emily began assembling her own tacos, adding the toppings she liked best. âThe contractâs up in four months. Iâm planning to buy a place.â âWhat for? Just stay with me. Iâve got a room for you.â âMy address is still tied to Justinâs place. Since Iâve decided to leave, I need a clean break. Iâll need my own place to change everything over,â Emily explained, outlining her plan. Her heart felt numb now, no longer as raw as it had been the night sheâd learned the truth in the hospital garden. âThen you can cancel your lease and move in with me! Weâll be family!" Emily suggested excitedly. Helen suppressed the impulse to tell Emily that they were already family. Given Emily's amnesia, she didnât want to overwhelm her with too much information all at once. Instead, she nodded. âAlright, Iâll move in with you. Iâll start looking around for a place for you. Actually the place I rent now is quite nice. The location and neighborhood are perfect. Iâll check if the landlordâs interested in selling, though itâs a resale property.â âI donât care if itâs new or used. As long as itâs clean and ready to go, Iâm good.â Emily didnât need much. After leaving the cushy life she had been used to, she was perfectly fine doing things on her own. She found the independence kind of refreshing. After lunch, they picked up some accessories to go with the new outfits, light enough to carry back on her own. Emily said goodbye to Helen and drove back to Villa One. By the time she got back, the clothes she had bought that morning had already been delivered, ironed, and neatly hung in the walk-in closet by the house staff. She hadnât bought much, just enough to last the next few months and to keep the move as hassle-free as possible. The womenâs side of the closet was nearly empty, with only a few of her favorite pieces hanging. She grabbed a new loungewear set to change into and happened to glance over at the menâs side, packed with Justinâs clothes. Emily didnât linger. She strode past it without a second thought. As she was heading to the bathroom, her phone rang from the sofa. She put down the clothes and picked up the call. âHello, is this Miss Yates?â âYes, this is.â âIâm a nurse from Lichfield Hospital. Your health screening results are in. When would be a convenient time for you to come pick them up?â Emily remembered that Justin had taken her for a checkup just before their trip to Merika State. She had forgotten all about it until this call. âIâll come by tomorrow morning.â âVery well. Have a nice day.â The next day, Emily went to Lichfield Hospital. âPlan to have a baby?â âThatâs right. Mr. Yates specifically requested it during his screening. Your health is excellent, Miss Yates. Your ovulation cycle is regular, so we recommend folic acid, Vitamin B1, and plenty of protein. With the right timing and frequency, you should be expecting good news soon.â The doctor adjusted his glasses and smiled warmly. Emilyâs fingers tightened around the report, a heavy feeling settling in her chest. She had been trying hard not to think about Justin lately, but this report hit her unexpectedly hard. âMiss Yates, Iâll prescribe you two boxes of folic acid and Vitamin B1. Be sure to take them regularly.â Emily interrupted him, finding an excuse to refuse. âThanks, doctor, but that wonât be necessary. Iâll get them on my own.â The doctor wasnât surprised. Wealthy women like her often had access to premium brands from various sources, so declining hospital-prescribed supplements wasnât unusual. Emily left the hospital in a daze, only coming to her senses when she reached a sunny spot outside. She tossed the health report into the trash bin. With Emma back, Justin clearly had no intention of having children with her. And she certainly didnât want to give him one, either. It was easier to pretend she didnât know what the checkup had really been for. Meanwhile, in the hospitalâs garden, the spring sunlight was warm and gentle. Justin was pushing Emmaâs wheelchair, letting her enjoy the sunshine. âJustin, youâre busy with work. You donât have to be here with me all the time. I can manage on my own,â Emma said, her voice soft and considerate. âFocus on getting better. Donât worry about anything else.â Justin felt a deep guilt about Emmaâs disappearance, blaming himself for not protecting her better. He believed his negligence had allowed her to be taken and vanish without a trace. Over the past few days, he had tried to gather clues from her about what happened, but whenever he brought it up, she would break down, unable to share any details. Emily hadnât expected to see Justin at the hospital. Hadnât Sam said Justin was out of town on a business trip? | LEARN_MORE | https://www.lzwnyvvd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 373 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | www.lzwnyvvd.com | VIDEO | https://www.lzwnyvvd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18085&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/t39.35426-6/476244687_516331227659932_6782121171310904439_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4FJkpvZps4sQ7kNvgEpwE6k&_nc_oc=Adim9oXvMlY-9XhG0bP1SmdWSFg0T457C-kh0E0pF60hOQDLpFgHRzZ9iGPxDgG1W8s&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A-sA_pXXkc3V-utmwvvEm5c&oh=00_AYBdlhRGjcOVRMzZM-HMxJb66uuYXU70oMDMNXA903piRQ&oe=67C2D2DF | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2025-02-24 19:42 | active | 2625 | 0 | đAttention! Do not read in publicďźđ | âUseless Wolf! Clean the office quickly! Don't you know that our guest, Alpha Dane of the biggest pack Black Shadow, will be arriving soon?â Beta Kyle slaps me and rudely kicks me towards the office before moving away. Quietly closing the door, I slide down to the floor frustrated. I hate this house. As the daughter of the late Alpha, everyone in the pack takes great joy in torturing me, because of an unforgivable sin I made at 6. I thought that when I turned 18, I could finally escape, but 4 years later, here I still am, a slave in my own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for my brother, Alpha Trey and the pack... While my ex-mate, Beta Kyle waltzes around reminding me of how worthless I am. âUhheemâ This moment, someone clears their throat and I freeze. Who else is here?ďź Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair, just around the corner. A foot propped up on his knee as he nurses a glass of alcohol. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that donât quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. âIs this the way you greet all Alphaâs?â His deep voice rumbles through the room, there was an edge of amusement to his tone. âIâm sorry.â I whisper, getting to my feet. âIâŚI thought I was alone.â I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. âCome forward.â He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey was going to finish me! I step around the corner, doing as Iâm told, allowing him to see me properly. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. âYou smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?â I nod, though I couldnât tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. âI would prefer it if you spoke to me.â He growls, âIâm not in the mood to play games.â âYes.â I whisper. I couldnât help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? âWhy do you smell strange? And how is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.â âI...â I hated the question. âYou should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Itâs rude to not look at them. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?â His deep voice sends a shiver through me. Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them, there was no way I was making eye contact. âMy Wolf abilities were bound,â I mutter. Twice... Twice my abilities were bound actually. He leans forward, carefully placing his glass on the small table next to the chair. I could feel him staring at me, âWhy would someone do that?â âIt was a punishment.â I whisper. It wasnât far from the entire truth but it was the simplest answer I could give. Thereâs a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldnât tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me âNeah, what are you doing in my office?â He turns to the crimson eyed man. âI am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.â Crap, it was him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. âI wouldnât do that if I were you.â Alpha Daneâs voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was taller than my brother, more muscly too. âNeah,â My name rolls off of his tongue, âwas kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested. I was lucky someone was present, at least someone understands the importance of this deal.â What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brain freezes when I see my brother glaring at me. âNeah is your sister, correct?â Alpha Dane questions my brother. âShe is.â Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. âWhy do you treat her like vermin?â âNeah was responsible for our parentsâ death.â Alpha Trey spits. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. âResponsible how?â Alpha Daneâs voice rumbles through me. He was definitely angry. âShe served them Wolfsbane.â -- Donât make a sound. Donât make a sound. I know Alpha Dane is studying me. No one could ever quite believe how someone could do something so disgusting as poisoning their own parents. I stand there, with my head hanging low, wishing for the ground to open up and suck me in. There are movements around me. He is standing directly in front of me. With a rough finger he tilts my face up towards his, forcing me to look at him. Slowly, his hand latches onto my throat but he doesnât squeeze. âYou poisoned your parents?â âI was six.â I splutter. âI just made them lemonade.â My voice comes out all squeaky as I try to defend myself. I could barely remember my parents, but I could remember all the guilt I had been made to feel since that day. His crimson eyes flash to my brother. âHardly seems fair to blame a six year old.â âA six year old should know the difference between plants.â Alpha Trey snaps âSounds to me like she was set up.â Alpha Dane shrugs his shoulders, letting go of my throat. âWe all know that standard wolfsbane doesnât affect us anymore. We evolved from that thing centuries ago.â What? What did he mean? Wolfsbane wasnât lethal. It had been drummed into me since I could walk. âWhich only leaves Blood of Wolfsbane.â Alpha Dane mutters. âYou werenât there, Alpha Dane.â My brother muttered through gritted teeth as his eyes narrowed to slits. âIt was Wolfsbane.â He nods his head. âYou are right, I was not present.â Great, now there was someone else who could remind me of something I had done by accident, years ago. âBut tell me this, where would a six year old get Blood of Wolfsbane?â âI didnât ask you here to talk about my slave!â Alpha Trey spits. âOr what happened to my parents.â Alpha Dane grabs his leather jacket from the chair. Unlike other Alphas, he seems to dress more casually. A simple black tee and jeans cover his huge frame. âYouâre right and now I have a few things to mull over.â âI thought we agreed.â My brother exclaims. âNothing has been signed, right?â He glances at me, and continues, "I have a proposition for you, Alpha Trey. And if you donât agree, you will not get my help. Instead, you will become my enemy.â âI take it that your new terms have something to do with her?â Alpha Trey mutters through clenched teeth. âYou would be correct. Let me take her away to my pack, and then you, Trey will have a deal.â I suddenly raised my head, staring at Alpha Dane with wide eyes in disbelief. Me? Why would he want me? A person who murdered her own parents? -- As I was waiting at the door with my luggage, I heard a playful laugh coming from the car next to me. "She's the charm! I wonder how long she can live?" âShut up! Before you say something you regret!â I was startled by the familiar deep voice. That car... was the one Alpha Dane sent to pick me up? Bang! I watch Alpha Dane gets out of the car and close the door, striding in front of me. He reaches a hand out and cups my face and starts, âAre you ready?â I bit my bottom lip and nod slightly, clutching the barely full carrier bag to my chest. âWhere are the rest of your things? Everything needs to be packed.â âThatâs all she has.â Trey snorts as he makes his appearance with his Luna. âThatâs it?â Alpha Dane stares at my brother. âSheâs what, in her early twenties and thatâs all her belongings?â âWhat more does she need?!â The Luna sneers, "Take her Alpha Dane. Iâm sure she will be as useful a slave to you as she is to us.â Her shrill voice goes straight through me. âShut up, bimbo! You should make yourself familiar with our agreement.â Alpha Dane snaps. âIt seems your Alpha has not told you everything.â He takes the contract from his Beta Eric, then shave it against Alpha Treyâs chest. âI agreed that you could take her as part of our deal.â My brother signs without reading and practically throws the contract back at Alpha Dane. âDone.â Alpha Trey mutters. âIs this my only option?â I whispers to my self, keeping my eyes low. What could someone like him possibly want with me? âNeah?" Alpha Dane steps in front of me and hold a hand out to me. "Come. Itâs time for us to go.â ... A few hours later. I stares up at big villa of Alpha Dane, gasping a little. It was easily three times the size of my previous home. âLet me give you a tour.â Alpha Dane suggests. I follow him in with clutching the carrier bag to my chest, not speaking a word. âTell me, what do you need. Underwear, jeans, dresses, shoes?â âI donât need anything.â I whispers, feeling uneasy. I hear Alpha Dane sighs, who starts scribbling something down. I scrunch my face up when he measurs me. It's painful. âAre you injured?" I bit my bottom lip and shake my head. âYou have to say something, Neah. I cannot read your mind. When I mark you, at least I will know what you are feeling.â âMark me?â âYouâŚ.You brought me so that you could mark me?â I stare at him in disbelief, eyes wide. âYes, I will mark you.â His rough fingers tip my face up, and his crimson eyes flash to me. âIf Trey had bothered reading the contract, he would have discovered that you were not bought, Neah." "You are not a slave, but to be my bride. MY TENTH BRIDE.â Crap. He's that ruthless man who rumored to have killed all his nine mates?!! | LEARN_MORE | https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783& | New world publications | https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/ | 3,808 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | wwwedb.com | VIDEO | At six years old, I accidentally killed my parents. For the punishment I, an alpha female, became a slave in my own house.. My wolf's abilities were bounded, twiceâa crippling blow that left me vulnerable. As if I were nothing more than property, my brother sold me to a ruthless alpha as part of some clan contract. The rumour I've heard about him that nine fiancee has been killed by him. Then, I discovered that this ruthless alpha, the one who now owned me, was my mate ... | https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&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-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480754790_1585043588808222_5920187520107442631_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=EoVkOnRAfmcQ7kNvgFLBemG&_nc_oc=AdjHU3oHaopwo-UjSu7O3B2XxgUDO_1mJB4zOhSFCpRLJCmBHrbspLhtZ7VbnBZ7KMU&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AnDMtC_VuoMvT8f604ncphW&oh=00_AYB0LaJWG3R_J-x9vxRyHLz_Cd5nvA6zr1VBRJ7FL9b16g&oe=67C2FDC9 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | New world publications | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Itâs a Mad World, what you M.a.D. about? Each month will have limited edition drops before the whole collection is released. 30 pieces 30 chances to win the Maffle Giveway on March 14th Taking orders now, shipping and delivering on or before the 6th. https://square.link/u/ODIWPNu0?src=sheet #itsamadworldforever | I.AM World | https://www.facebook.com/IAMF0rever/ | 1,816 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | MULTI_IMAGES | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480892652_1184805039672448_6562171885864033362_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=gIf5JPbQJ-QQ7kNvgGbXkxY&_nc_oc=AdhFpJP6-E09KfPyVSOUwJ0SXz36UopER4kYyocczTy1ZUikt_yXjTGlPEkEmA8RTxcbYoEsT2-lE6ISzAPzoWuR&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A2LqGmW0RJSPAR6DWsgkyXJ&oh=00_AYDWwbrspIVp6_MZ-FCHovvUjJJnDZXgdswkBvvA77rNlQ&oe=67C2CDEF | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | I.AM World | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-02-25 17:24 | active | 2628 | 0 | Read next chapterđ | He divorced her because of cheating. She left a message: "You will regret it." 4 years later, he saw her on TV and introduced her as a top 100 female CEO, but she shone and attracted everyone's attention. He was frustrated and begged to win her back! ===== In the bustling, weathered heart of Orkset, flames erupted violently within an ancient apartment building. Propelled by gusts of wind, the fire devoured the structure, belching dense smoke and bright, searing tongues of flame. "Saved! They've been saved." The words echoed amidst the chaos. Firefighters emerged from the smoldering inferno, carrying Carrie Campbell to safety at the roadside. Her features, usually refined and expressive, were now smeared with soot; her sparkling eyes dimmed to a vacant gaze, hollow and lost. As reality seeped back into her consciousness, Carrie felt a rush of gratitude overpower her usual composure. Her voice, hoarse and weak, conveyed a profound "thank you" to her rescuers. Shaking, she fumbled for her phone, her fingertips quivering as they found the familiar number. "Hello, the person you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please try again later..." The automated message played after a few rings, leaving her with a lump in her throat, her unvoiced frustrations and sorrow welling up inside her. Bang! With a deafening roar, the explosion abruptly silenced the cold, mechanical voice echoing through the line. Carrie's head snapped upwards, shock painted on her face as she witnessed the apartment she had just exited erupt into flames. Chunks of debris were hurled into the air by the force of the blast, scattering across the sky. Panic engulfed the crowd as survivors, freshly rescued, screamed in terror. They huddled together, seeking solace in each other's arms, their cries piercing the tumultuous scene. In stark contrast, Carrie lay alone on a stretcher, her isolation magnified amidst the chaos. "Kristopher..." Fighting the dread creeping up her spine, Carrie pressed her lips together tightly and dialed her husband's number again, her resolve unwavering. Yet, the call disconnected after a few short rings, leaving her with a haunting silence. Just then, a Twitter notification flickered on her phone screen. The gossip feed was alive with the latest gossip: #LiseNash #MysteriouBoyfriend. According to the tweet, a producer from a well-known variety show had invited the renowned star Lise Nash to a dinner, which had quickly soured when she declined to partake in a toast. This act of defiance had sparked a confrontation, only to be interrupted by Lise's domineering boyfriend. He stormed into the private dining room, dismissing the producer with a dismissive wave and escorting Lise away. The tweet described the scene vividly, painting a picture of a powerful man defending his beloved partner. Yet, perhaps due to his prominence, only the back of the man was visible in the accompanying photos, preserving his anonymity. Meanwhile, Lise, donning an oversized suit jacket, beamed a smile, reaching out to clasp his hand as they departed together. Carrie's eyes were glued to the screen, her stare intense and unblinking as she absorbed the image before her. There he was--Kristopher Norris! The suit jacket draped carelessly over Lise was a dead giveaway. Every piece of clothing Kristopher owned had been meticulously tailored by a master craftsman abroad, a detail Carrie knew all too well. Her grip on her phone tightened, her knuckles blanching to a stark white, as if her very soul were being squeezed by an invisible hand, the pain sharp and acid-like in its intensity. In her most desperate moment, Kristopher had coldly disconnected their call, choosing instead to be at Lise's side. What was the worth of their two-year marriage? The tears she had been holding back now overwhelmed her, streaming down her face. Even as she tilted her head back in a futile attempt to stem the flow, the tears continued to escape. Lise had always been Kristopher's first love, a fact whispered and gossiped about among their circles. The Norris family had never approved of Lise, seeing her ordinary background as unfitting. Forced apart by family pressures, it had been Lise who ended things, but the past, it seemed, was not easily left behind. Kristopher had diligently pursued the leadership of the Norris family, harboring dreams of finally being with Lise. Yet, when he reached his goal, he discovered that Lise had already chosen another. In defiance of his family's expectations and perhaps out of bitterness, Kristopher turned to Carrie, a woman equally devoid of wealth or status, to become Mrs. Norris, thereby blocking any matchmaking attempts by his relatives. At that time, Carrie faced immense pressure from her father, Tristan Campbell, who was pushing her towards a marriage with a playboy, the son of a business associate, to cover her grandmother's steep medical expenses. Both Kristopher and Carrie, driven by their personal motives, consented to a marriage of convenience. Originally set for just one year, their contractual marriage stretched beyond its term, sustained by a shared understanding between them. Over time, Carrie began to believe in the authenticity of their union, never suspecting that it was merely an extension of her hopes. Just moments ago, a fire had nearly claimed Carrie's life. In that critical moment, she reached out to Kristopher, only to be twice rebuffed as he spent his time with Lise. This harsh reality shattered Carrie's illusions, revealing that her perceived transition from pretense to genuine relationship was nothing but a facade maintained by her own desires. Carrie wasn't even a temporary substitute in Kristopher's life but merely a pawn used to spite his family. After a poignant pause, tears welled up in Carrie's eyes, unstoppable and poignant. It might be time for her to release herself from the shackles of her own hopeful delusions--to stop deceiving herself. Chapter 2 Trending Topics The overwhelming number of injuries from the fire was staggering, straining the already frantic doctors and nurses as they tried to provide aid. Carrie had been merely grazed by a splintered clothes rack, which left a deep, jagged wound on her calf. In comparison to the chaos around her, her wounds seemed almost negligible. She managed to get basic care--a brisk cleaning and a quick wrap of bandages--at a local hospital before catching a cab back to her house. Bayview Villa, a grand property under Kristopher's name, was technically their matrimonial residence. Living alone had become the norm for Carrie, as Kristopher was hardly ever around. She had bid farewell to the housekeeper, discovering that her life could be quite adequately maintained with just takeout, deliveries, and the occasional visit from a part-time cleaner. Now, she found herself the sole occupant of the sprawling living room, sinking into the sofa, her gaze drifting across the empty space. The stark, monochrome decor did nothing to imbue warmth into the atmosphere. A chilling realization crept up on her: this vast, elegant space felt more like a colossal tomb, a silent grave for her lost years of youth and a love that had quietly slipped away. In this cold, echoing house, would anyone even notice if her breath ceased one day? Carrie exhaled a weary sigh, her frame heavy as she leaned against the cold wall for support, struggling up the stairs to her bedroom on the second floor. Each step was a battle, sending stabbing pains shooting through her from the surface of her skin down to her aching bones. The house, stark and hollow, echoed even the smallest sounds, magnifying her sense of isolation. It was today, amidst this profound silence, that Carrie truly grasped the all-encompassing nature of her loneliness--it was almost tangible, enveloping her senses with its texture and mournful whispers, tightening around her heart like a vice, producing a dull, relentless ache. Upon reaching the sanctuary of her bedroom, she collapsed onto the bed, the very embodiment of exhaustion, feeling it both physically and spiritually. Just as she surrendered to this weariness, the sharp ring of the phone pierced the silence. "You reached out to me earlier. What do you need?" Kristopher's voice cut through the line, cold and distant as ever. Carrie was caught off guard by his unexpected call. Words failed her as she parted her lips to respond, but before she could collect her thoughts, a soft, feminine voice floated through from the other end. "Kristopher, will you join me to..." A surge of emotions tightened Carrie's grip on the phone, her heart thumping louder with each second. Overwhelmed and unable to contain her rising panic, she demanded, "Who's there with you?" Kristopher gave no answer, merely stating in a flat, disinterested voice, "If there's something you need, let's catch up when I'm back. I have pressing engagements right now, so I must disconnect." He promptly ended the call, cutting off any chance for Carrie to reply. As the harsh beep of the disconnected line filled her ears, Carrie's lips twisted into a rueful grin. How utterly foolish she felt! Deep down, she knew his response all too well, yet she had clung to the hope of hearing his voice confirm it. With a sense of self-inflicted irony, Carrie activated her tablet and scrolled through the day's hot topics. One headline caught her eye: "A female star shielded from harassment at a dinner by her formidable partner." A wry smile twisted her lips. Carrie knew all too well what it was like to face harassment at those kinds of dinners. She vividly remembered her first major audition after her entering the showbiz; her agent had escorted her to a dinner with the influential director and producer of the drama series "Serene Sighs." As a novice in the dizzying world of showbiz, Carrie had felt incredibly vulnerable, uncertain of how to navigate the murky waters of such gatherings. The producer had eyed her shamelessly, sneering as he asked, "Is this the new talent you're introducing? She appears presentable, but I'm curious to see how she fares with a drink. Here's the deal, if you can gulp down this bottle in one go, I'll secure you an audition for the lead role." Carrie was inclined to decline, but under the relentless pressure from her agent, she found herself compelled to consume the entire bottle. As the evening wore on, she was hurriedly taken to the hospital suffering from a severe stomach ailment. Her agent, fretful about the prospect of the role slipping away to another, quickly settled the hospital charges and departed. At that time, Carrie found herself isolated in a hospital bed for several long days. Yet, even before Carrie could be released from the hospital, the media was abuzz with the announcement that Lise had secured the lead role in "Serene Sighs." Subsequently, her agent rebuked Carrie for her lack of ambition, complaining, "You are more appealing than Lise, so why can't you show more drive? She cozied up to Mr. Norris and hardly had to make an effort. She's surrounded by people eager to cater to her every need. I've heard that Mr. Norris personally orchestrated her landing the lead role in this production!" When the show premiered, Lise was catapulted into stardom, swiftly ascending to the elite echelons of the acting world. From that moment forward, Carrie let her acting aspirations wane and chose instead to devote herself entirely to supporting her husband, Kristopher. After all, no matter her efforts, she could never get the same career opportunities that Lise seemed to receive effortlessly with Kristopher's offhand remarks. At that time, Carrie had believed she was filling the role that was meant to be Lise's as Mrs. Norris, which meant she owed Lise. By giving up the career opportunities to Lise, Carrie thought they would settle their unspoken debt. However, Carrie hadn't foreseen that Lise would claim both the coveted career and Kristopher's affections. As Lise's professional and love life blossomed, Carrie came to the painful realization that she had been overly consumed with her romantic pursuits, at the expense of her career, and now, she found herself bereft of both love and professional fulfillment. With tears streaming down her face, Carrie viewed her past two years as tragically misguided. Given another opportunity, she resolved she wouldn't be so unguarded, letting her heart recklessly fall captive to Kristopher's charm. "Ms. Spencer, the new copyright contract is prepared. Please review it for any discrepancies." Her phone buzzed with the alert, snapping Carrie out of her reverie. She gazed at the PDF file attached in the message, her mind briefly overwhelmed. Under the pseudonym Katrina Spencer, Carrie had once made a name for herself as a budding screenwriter, selling numerous scripts in her early days. During her early career as Katrina, Carrie often sold her work for a pittance, compelled by her urgent need for immediate cash. Over the years, these scripts transformed into blockbuster films and hit series, catapulting Katrina's reputation to new heights. By this time, Carrie had married Kristopher and was no longer plagued by the financial woes that had once driven her to desperation--her grandmother's hefty medical bills were a thing of the past. With her financial crises resolved, Carrie's life had pivoted to domestic responsibilities, striving to be an exemplary wife to Kristopher. Amidst these changes, her pseudonym, Katrina Spencer, gradually receded into the background. However, her past as Katrina wasn't ready to be shelved just yet. Recently, an interested buyer had come forward, ready to pay a handsome sum for one of her old scripts. Carrie, however, was hesitant to sell. She raised several concerns about the contract presented to her, and to her astonishment, the buyer was genuine enough to revise it accordingly. Holding the revised contract in her hands, Carrie inhaled deeply, her resolve hardening. She seemed to have reached a crucial decision. Her fingers danced over her phone's keyboard with swift precision, typing out a firm command. "Create a divorce agreement following my terms and ensure it reaches Kristopher Norris at the Norris Group." Without pausing for a response, she placed her phone aside and limped toward the bathroom, each step echoing a blend of determination and newfound independence. Chapter 3 Exchange Of Conveniences Thirty minutes had passed, Carrie finally heaved herself up from the bathtub, her limbs feeling heavy and uncooperative. As she lifted her gaze, her own image in the mirror halted her movements--her skin appeared as smooth and impeccable as fine porcelain, glowing with an unblemished radiance. Her eyes, deep pools of allure, sparkled with an enchanting, soft warmth, inviting anyone who dared meet her gaze. Despite edging into her late twenties at twenty-five, she reveled in the fact that time had yet to etch its marks upon her flawless complexion. Surely, a woman with such a visage had no place for self-pity. Absorbed in her contemplation, Carrie carelessly extended her right leg onto the cold floor, forgetting it was the very limb she had injured. Wrapped excessively in cling film to shield it from moisture, the tight encasement had stifled her circulation, rendering her leg eerily numb. As her foot touched down, it betrayed her, slipping forward unexpectedly. "Ah!" Carrie gasped, her arms flailing in a frantic ballet, searching for a lifeline in the void. Just as she teetered on the brink of a painful rendezvous with the floor, the bathroom door burst open. Kristopher stood at the entrance, his suit immaculately tailored, creating a striking figure. As their eyes locked, he paused, visibly taken aback, then quickly closed the distance with brisk strides. Carrie's breath caught as Kristopher swept her up in a graceful bridal style, an unexpected tightness wrapping around her waist. Caught off guard by his sudden appearance, Carrie realized with a jolt that she was completely bare. A flush of embarrassment washed over her as she instinctively clutched her hands over her chest. This was their first moment of such intimacy since their wedding, and the discomfort made her toes curl inward, her skin blushing a delicate shade of pink. Kristopher looked down at her with a mischievous grin. "Let's be honest, there's not much to see," he teased gently. Feeling both mortified and slightly irritated, Carrie snapped back, "Oh, Mr. Norris, after all you've seen, I suppose nothing can impress you anymore." She carried her C-cup curves with understated charm, a touch of sensuality that outshone Lise's painfully flat, almost awkwardly rigid build. Yet Carrie knew well that without love, even the most perfect physique paled in comparison to the charm of one dearly cherished. Nonchalantly, Kristopher reached for a bathrobe hanging behind the door and draped it over her. His frown deepened at her comment. "What are you talking about, Carrie?" A thought seemed to strike him, and his expression grew even more impatient. "Tell me, did you send those divorce papers in the dead of night just to lure me back here--to catch you completely bare?" His tone was a mix of disbelief and annoyance. "I told you I was swamped with work. Was this dramatic display really necessary?" Carrie's temper flared at his accusatory tone, reigniting the tension between them. He was always so quick to lose patience with her. She wasn't the type to throw around words like divorce or breakups lightly. In fact, this was the first time she'd ever mentioned divorce in their two-year marriage, yet he seemed indifferent to her turmoil. He simply dismissed her concerns as if she were overreacting about trivial matters. Despite the throbbing pain in her leg, Carrie mustered her strength and said, "Put me down." Kristopher, however, paid no heed, his eyes scanning her leg swathed in bandages. His brow furrowed slightly. "What happened to your leg? Is this some elaborate ploy to lure me back?" At his words, a bitter laugh escaped Carrie. It seemed he viewed her as merely seeking attention, and in failing to capture it, she had likely concocted a story to draw him back, allowing her to dramatize her plight in his presence. With a blank face, she replied untruthfully, "It's a beauty treatment that shouldn't get wet." "Why did you suddenly decide to undergo such a treatment?" Kristopher inquired, his tone casual as he carried her outside, not pressing the issue further. His frame was large, and through his thin shirt, she could distinctly feel the warmth of his body and the defined shape of his chest muscles. The closeness created an uncomfortable tension for Carrie, who had resolved to end things once and for all. Her voice climbed involuntarily, sharper this time. "Oh, since when have you been concerned with such minor things, Mr. Norris?" For the first time, Kristopher witnessed her using biting sarcasm; it struck him as peculiarly amusing. With a calm demeanor, he responded, "You're my wife, it's only natural I'd be concerned about your well-being." "Really?" There was a somber note in Carrie's voice now. "It seems like you've never really regarded me as your wife. I'm scared that if I were to die, you wouldn't even know until much later." After all, at that very moment, Kristopher had been distracted, lost in moments with his first love, too consumed to lend an ear to her desperate pleas. Caught off guard by her accusation, Kristopher's eyes widened with surprise before he let out a disbelieving chuckle. "Carrie, what's brought on this sudden outburst of anger? Just because I was tied up this afternoon and missed your call? Perhaps I've been too indulgent with you lately, and it's made you a bit too presumptuous?" Carrie froze, startled. Was he accusing her of being too presumptuous? She realized their marriage had always been lopsided. In his eyes, she was nothing more than a transactional partner, a woman who had bartered her freedom for financial security. Their union was meant to be a mere exchange of conveniences, yet she had, quite foolishly, fallen deeply in love with him. In the tricky terrain of romance, the one who fell first invariably found themselves at a distinct disadvantage. Kristopher's dismissive reaction left Carrie reeling, her emotions dismissed as trifles, a tight knot of suffocation rising in her chest. "I said to put me down this instant!" Carrie exclaimed, jerking her head to the side, her voice laced with a sharp edge of impatience. Kristopher remained mute, effortlessly carrying her towards the bed before suddenly releasing his hold. Carrie felt a jolt as the support vanished, her heart skipping a beat as she instinctively grasped for him. Their bodies collided on the bed, her bathrobe teetering on the brink of decency, threatening to unravel with any minor shift. Propped on one elbow, Kristopher gazed down at her, his lips curled into a sly, teasing grin. "You wanted to be let go, didn't you? So why cling to me now?" His eyes, deep and sparkling like a midnight lake speckled with stars, captivated her. In those celestial depths, Carrie caught a glimpse of her own reflection. At times like this, she was misled into believing he harbored a deep affection. Sadly, his heart was a fortress reserved for Lise, and all Carrie had left were empty fantasies. "Boring!" she exclaimed, her voice devoid of any enthusiasm as she attempted to rise, her hand inadvertently brushing against something unexpected. The following moment brought a noticeable shift in his cock pressing against her stomach. "Don't move, or I can't promise what might happen next," he warned in a deep, gravelly voice. With a frown, Carrie internally cursed upon hearing the statement. It was an undeniable fact. Primal instincts steered the actions of men. Absence of affection didn't quell their basic desires. Yet, she dared not agitate Kristopher. Angling her face away, her body remained rigid, frozen in place. Carrie, feeling irked, shot back. "Didn't you say there's nothing here to see? What's with the reaction now, Mr. Norris? Are you really that easy to impress?" No sooner had her words flown than she grasped the potential repercussions of her sharp tongue. A wave of regret surged through Carrie, but instead of anger, Kristopher responded with a chuckle, "You are my wife, after all. Since that's something I can't alter, I might as well embrace it. Besides, it's been years since we became husband and wife--it would be a shame to neglect you completely." Chapter 4 Are You Out Of Your Mind? Kristopher slipped his hand beneath the folds of her bathrobe, his touch tracing the curve of Carrie's skin, as smooth and delicate as silk. He encircled her slender waist, drawing her closer with a gentle yet firm grip. Her face, a captivating canvas of defiance and visible irritation, ignited in him an uncontrollable urge to claim victory over her resistance. His breathing grew heavy, yet he remained composed, slowly removing his tailored suit. The fabric of his suit brushed lightly against Carrie's cheek, releasing a mix of scents: a familiar woody aroma intertwined with an unexpected zesty twist of lemon. It was unmistakably Jo Malone's Blue Agava and Cacao--Lise's signature scent. A surge of nausea overwhelmed Carrie at the realization. As Kristopher's eyes, now shaded with a stormy intensity, drew nearer to hers, the proximity conjured unwelcome visions of him with Lise. Her stomach churned violently, and with a sudden movement, she pushed him away, propping herself up with a jolt and a dry retch. "Ugh..." Her stomach had been empty all day, leaving her with nothing to bring up. The desire in Kristopher's gaze flickered out, replaced by a cold, detached expression as he withdrew slightly. Observing the genuine distress and the reddening of Carrie's eyes, Kristopher perceived her reaction for outright disgust at their closeness. He paused, fingers adjusting his shirt cuffs, his voice cold as he confronted her. "Carrie, is this reaction reserved only for me, or is it how you respond to all men?" The air in the room turned frosty, thick with tension. Carrie swallowed the sharp sting in her throat, her eyes widening in shock as she stared up at him. Ever since their marriage, she had cut ties with nearly all her male friends, yet here was Kristopher, casually tossing out comments sharp enough to cut glass. The years of love she had poured into their relationship now seemed utterly futile. Heat crept up her neck, coloring her cheeks a bright scarlet as indignation took hold. Without thinking, her hand flew up and delivered a stinging slap across Kristopher's face. All her suppressed grievances from the day ignited in that swift motion. Her bathrobe, loosened in the heat of the moment, slipped from her shoulders. Ignoring the flush of exposure, she swiftly gathered the fabric and draped it around herself, her movements quick and firm. The impact of her slap had left a light, crimson mark on Kristopher's cheek, marking him with her outrage. His eyes, wide with disbelief, met hers. "Carrie, are you out of your mind?" Out of her mind? Yes, she was clearly insane to ever fall for him in the first place. Carrie fumed silently, her heart pounding in her chest. Suddenly, the sharp buzz of the phone on the table cut through the mounting tension, its vibration bringing a brief respite from their standoff. Kristopher cast a fleeting glance at the message, shut off the phone with a snap, and strode towards the door, his back rigid with tension. Her voice, firm and unwavering, chased after him. "We're getting a divorce! Make sure you sign those papers before you walk out that door!" Kristopher paused briefly and said sharply, "I have something to do now. When I return, do whatever pleases you." With that, he forcefully shut the door. Carrie's eyes followed his unwavering exit, feeling an oppressive weight compressing her chest once again. She disregarded the sharp sting in her leg and hobbled determinedly toward her tablet. Fingers trembling, she hastily navigated to Lise's Twitter page. Lise had just uploaded a new tweet. The photo showed her lying down with a fever patch adhered to her forehead, still enveloped in Kristopher's familiar jacket. The caption read, "Being sick makes me extra clingy. Wishing I had someone here. Stay cozy and take care, everyone!" The simultaneous timing of these two events made it almost impossible for Carrie not to suspect that Kristopher had dashed off to tend to Lise. Carrie's instincts loudly proclaimed that this was no accident; Lise had deliberately sought to tug at Kristopher's heartstrings. It appeared her tactics were effective. Not even Carrie's stark threat of divorce could overshadow Lise's theatrical display of vulnerability. Seething with fury, Carrie quaked like a leaf swept into a storm. She steeled herself against the heartache, forcefully ripping the plastic wrap from her aching leg. After her lengthy soak, the bath's lingering moisture had infiltrated her skin, inflaming the wound until it was a vivid, angry red and painfully swollen. She, too, could be clingy. Even in the harshest times back in the county, she had shown vulnerability, breaking down into soft sobs within the comforting arms of her grandmother, especially that one time she got burned by the scalding kettle. But such vulnerability had its time and place, and it wasn't now. The stark reality of Kristopher's exit forced Carrie to confront her need for self-reliance. Biting down hard on her lip, Carrie cleaned the throbbing wound with a practiced hand before securely wrapping it anew. She rose with a newfound resolve and yanked a black suitcase from the far end of her expansive walk-in closet--it held all the belongings she'd brought into this house as a hopeful bride. She grabbed a fresh set of clothes to slip into and left a bank card neatly on the bedside table. She had transferred every penny she'd earned over the past year onto that card, effectively settling her financial entanglements with Kristopher over the last two years and cutting him out of her life for good. Dragging the heavy suitcase behind her, she limped painfully out of the opulent villa. As she passed through the gate, she wrapped her baseball jacket more tightly around her slight figure, her silhouette hauntingly solitary in the enveloping darkness. The night air of early spring was bitingly cold, devoid of any trace of warmth, a chill that seemed almost faint compared to the ice forming in Carrie's shattered heart. She had arrived here with nothing but a suitcase and a heart full of dreams, and now she was leaving, dreams crumbled, utterly alone. A bitter laugh slipped through her lips. If only she hadn't fallen so hard for him, if only she'd proposed an amicable separation at the end of their agreed year, maybe she wouldn't be wandering now, a lost soul in the shadow of her former self. Lise didn't have to lift a finger, and Carrie had already fallen, utterly broken and beyond redemption. Chapter 5 A Gathering Meanwhile, in the Oasis Club, renowned as the priciest spot in Orkset, the air within the VIP room crackled with excitement. Under the spell of bright lights and thumping music, a diverse group of men and women lounged together, basking in the exclusivity of the setting. Suddenly, the door burst open, revealing Kristopher in the doorway. The karaoke session halted abruptly as the crowd turned to greet him in unison, voices mingling. "Kristopher..." Before they could utter another word, a woman cloaked from head to toe stepped out from behind him. Lise, with a fluid motion, removed her mask and slid her arm through Kristopher's. She addressed the room with a poised charm. "My assistant took a sudden leave, and I found myself without company. Not keen on spending the evening alone, I invited Kristopher to join me. I trust that's alright?" Lise's beauty was without question. Her face was a delicate composition of cherry lips and a sculpted nose, framed by eyes that shimmered with a vulnerable allure, commanding a protective fervor from those around her--her presence, ethereal. In contrast, Carrie's features were more pronounced, her beauty vivid and striking. Lise, by comparison, carried a softer, more understated elegance. Yet, as it often goes, matters of the heart followed no simple paths. While Kristopher and Carrie were married, it was in name only; Kristopher seemed detached and seldom included her in private social events. The group didn't have much of a relationship with Carrie, leading them to feel no obligation to defend her. Upon hearing Lise's comment, a moment of discomfort rippled through the air. Nonetheless, they quickly recovered, offering a congenial smile as they said, "We're all friends here; let's not bother with formalities." Lise offered a subtle, knowing smile, as she gracefully accompanied Kristopher into the bustling room. The event that evening had been meticulously planned to express appreciation for Kristopher's contributions. As they stepped into the room, the crowd parted like the sea, making way for them to proceed to the seats of honor. The group's leader handed Kristopher a glass of wine with a flourish, proclaiming with a broad grin, "We truly owe you a debt of gratitude, Mr. Norris! Your exceptional talents are the talk of the town, and witnessing them firsthand today only confirms it. Without your expertise, securing this contract would have been a fantasy!" Their gathering marked the launch of a novel shopping platform, one that had been in negotiation with numerous local brands in Orkset. But the scenario changed dramatically when the tech giant JoyBuy dramatically entered the scene, stirring up the competitive landscape. Competing with JoyBuy was akin to the classic David versus Goliath tale--hopelessly daunting. In a surge of desperation, they turned to Kristopher, reaching out through a network of connections for his renowned strategic prowess. With his characteristic swiftness, Kristopher hatched an ingenious plan and swiftly secured the deal, snatching it from the clutches of JoyBuy right before the business association could ink their agreement--a masterful coup that reverberated success. This remarkable turnaround only intensified the already deep respect everyone held for Kristopher. Albin Murray, beaming with pride, couldn't help but boast, "Ah, just look at the caliber of his friends! They thought they could steal deals right under our noses, obviously underestimating Kristopher's clout!" Albin, born into the wealthy Murray family, counted himself among Kristopher's closest friends. He was renowned for his sprawling social web--a network through which the desperate plea for help was channeled to Kristopher. Meanwhile, Kristopher himself, the focus of all their discussions, reclined nonchalantly on the couch, bathed in the soft glow of the overhead lights. He was well-versed in the art of receiving compliments; thus, his expression stayed calm and detached. The ambient light sculpted his angular features, casting dramatic shadows that emphasized his high nose bridge and sharply cut jawline, as though he were a living masterpiece. His natural grace and detachment eclipsed any terrestrial magnificence. Following a sequence of celebratory toasts, when it became apparent that Kristopher merely touched his glass without truly drinking, the rest of the company toned down their conversation, allowing him a moment of repose with his eyes gently shut. Lise, slightly feverish, opted not to indulge in the spirits, choosing instead to sit in serene silence next to Kristopher, her eyes lingering on him with a look of deep, unmistakable adoration. Albin, captivated by the seemingly perfect pair, pondered the whims of destiny. He discreetly captured their image with his smartphone and nonchalantly shared it across his social networks. As the evening progressed and the liquor dwindled, the room's door swung open anew. Kristopher's personal assistant, Oliver Brooks, made his entrance, acknowledging the gathering with a courteous nod that bordered on respect but avoided groveling, swiftly positioning himself in front of Kristopher. Silence hung in the air, yet Lise, unable to contain her curiosity, leaned in and whispered, "What's going on?" Oliver, maintaining his focus on Kristopher, chose not to respond directly to her. A flush of embarrassment tinted Lise's cheeks as she turned towards Kristopher, hesitatingly inquiring, "Should I leave?" Kristopher adjusted his posture, his voice low and calm as he instructed, "Go ahead, speak." A shiver of apprehension coursed through Oliver as he tentatively began, "Mr. Norris, Mrs. Norris has departed from Bayview Villa, and..." &10& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65282322-fb_contact-e | Lime novel-E | https://www.facebook.com/100090637249756/ | 341 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65282322-fb_contact-enp26_6-1226-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=2030515880733998&exdata=0006F2AF9AD2D6ACD3B02AF04251ACFA321C1BD309D0D96A | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480864641_2083741002087252_892466369774943506_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Nj76SyZm6xIQ7kNvgFNAoAh&_nc_oc=AdhLc-GBnvg0WZAXC4MaGD2pSrJAP4lpzBpS7vkxGXkn5wk9c_TjlJBDUTA64HxBruo&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A6M7ZD6P6WSyi0xdfkQvIRS&oh=00_AYDrBMOOQl1i6k6e6EgCpnNmZR05iPPnYHnPLaGdo-mhrA&oe=67C40DCB | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Lime novel-E | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-02-25 16:51 | active | 2627 | 0 | Survival isn't just luckâit's strategy. | INSTALL_MOBILE_APP | http://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.r | Dark War Survival Mobile | https://www.facebook.com/61566393095967/ | 469 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Install now | 0 | play.google.com | VIDEO | http://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.readygo.dark.gp | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-lga3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/473131717_541708788867514_8189730982281217164_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=8xzTuffLckUQ7kNvgE957yT&_nc_oc=AdgGHE_aftMAK0uvqd70FU_umFHL7KnHZYetV_M_YRCNslyWCbMcPlTQynjQYipz6WtZikPT08FJeUbLMLRU8rPQ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AVgpO1hA_aWcFvGLjdJA3cV&oh=00_AYBFhv1nv4JxP1soZ1EG1SULKIBR-ngDGMh2eSEQBBysIQ&oe=67C41383 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Dark War Survival Mobile | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Join our giveaway! đ Win a dinner for two, with a pasta of your choice for each (drinks not included). To enter: 1ď¸âŁ Follow us 2ď¸âŁ Like this post 3ď¸âŁ Tag the friend you'd bring 4ď¸âŁ Share the image on your profile and tag us You have until March 10th to participate, the day weâll announce the winner! Good luck! đ ââââââââââââââââ ÂĄParticipa en nuestro sorteo! đ Gana una cena para dos personas, con una pasta a elecciĂłn para cada uno (no incluye bebida). Para participar: 1ď¸âŁ SĂguenos 2ď¸âŁ Dale Me Gusta a esta publicaciĂłn 3ď¸âŁ Etiqueta al amigo con quien vendrĂas 4ď¸âŁ Comparte la imagen en tu perfil y etiquĂŠtanos Tienes tiempo hasta el 10 de marzo para participar, ÂĄese dĂa sortearemos al ganador! ÂĄSuerte! đ #giveaway #ristoranteitaliano #cacioepepe | VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE | http://instagram.com/cacioepeperestaurante | cacioepeperestaurante | https://www.instagram.com/_u/cacioepeperestaurante | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Visit Instagram profile | 0 | instagram.com | IMAGE | http://instagram.com/cacioepeperestaurante | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-19/468471298_3444493942524886_5818749250062873298_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s206x206_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=525117&_nc_ohc=KNcs9shCmJ0Q7kNvgHkmjPM&_nc_oc=AdiLNf6hu97PRRV_TuOj4cnBNl-doS7pFgHelzyCuXFYPvLTTBTiLPKS2SQxpP9Wr0SJ-dgxczgXLPCbavukjktV&_nc_zt=24&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.cdninstagram.com&oh=00_AYAKG6ecamfYx9AfSIqKwL4bQdsqvGOKlztZlYC71Tfniw&oe=67C2CD46 | IG_ADS_IDENTITY | 1 | 0 | 0 | cacioepeperestaurante | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2025-02-24 19:00 | active | 2623 | 0 | Read next chapterđ | He divorced her because of cheating. She left a message: "You will regret it." 4 years later, he saw her on TV and introduced her as a top 100 female CEO, but she shone and attracted everyone's attention. He was frustrated and begged to win her back! ===== In the bustling, weathered heart of Orkset, flames erupted violently within an ancient apartment building. Propelled by gusts of wind, the fire devoured the structure, belching dense smoke and bright, searing tongues of flame. "Saved! They've been saved." The words echoed amidst the chaos. Firefighters emerged from the smoldering inferno, carrying Carrie Campbell to safety at the roadside. Her features, usually refined and expressive, were now smeared with soot; her sparkling eyes dimmed to a vacant gaze, hollow and lost. As reality seeped back into her consciousness, Carrie felt a rush of gratitude overpower her usual composure. Her voice, hoarse and weak, conveyed a profound "thank you" to her rescuers. Shaking, she fumbled for her phone, her fingertips quivering as they found the familiar number. "Hello, the person you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please try again later..." The automated message played after a few rings, leaving her with a lump in her throat, her unvoiced frustrations and sorrow welling up inside her. Bang! With a deafening roar, the explosion abruptly silenced the cold, mechanical voice echoing through the line. Carrie's head snapped upwards, shock painted on her face as she witnessed the apartment she had just exited erupt into flames. Chunks of debris were hurled into the air by the force of the blast, scattering across the sky. Panic engulfed the crowd as survivors, freshly rescued, screamed in terror. They huddled together, seeking solace in each other's arms, their cries piercing the tumultuous scene. In stark contrast, Carrie lay alone on a stretcher, her isolation magnified amidst the chaos. "Kristopher..." Fighting the dread creeping up her spine, Carrie pressed her lips together tightly and dialed her husband's number again, her resolve unwavering. Yet, the call disconnected after a few short rings, leaving her with a haunting silence. Just then, a Twitter notification flickered on her phone screen. The gossip feed was alive with the latest gossip: #LiseNash #MysteriouBoyfriend. According to the tweet, a producer from a well-known variety show had invited the renowned star Lise Nash to a dinner, which had quickly soured when she declined to partake in a toast. This act of defiance had sparked a confrontation, only to be interrupted by Lise's domineering boyfriend. He stormed into the private dining room, dismissing the producer with a dismissive wave and escorting Lise away. The tweet described the scene vividly, painting a picture of a powerful man defending his beloved partner. Yet, perhaps due to his prominence, only the back of the man was visible in the accompanying photos, preserving his anonymity. Meanwhile, Lise, donning an oversized suit jacket, beamed a smile, reaching out to clasp his hand as they departed together. Carrie's eyes were glued to the screen, her stare intense and unblinking as she absorbed the image before her. There he was--Kristopher Norris! The suit jacket draped carelessly over Lise was a dead giveaway. Every piece of clothing Kristopher owned had been meticulously tailored by a master craftsman abroad, a detail Carrie knew all too well. Her grip on her phone tightened, her knuckles blanching to a stark white, as if her very soul were being squeezed by an invisible hand, the pain sharp and acid-like in its intensity. In her most desperate moment, Kristopher had coldly disconnected their call, choosing instead to be at Lise's side. What was the worth of their two-year marriage? The tears she had been holding back now overwhelmed her, streaming down her face. Even as she tilted her head back in a futile attempt to stem the flow, the tears continued to escape. Lise had always been Kristopher's first love, a fact whispered and gossiped about among their circles. The Norris family had never approved of Lise, seeing her ordinary background as unfitting. Forced apart by family pressures, it had been Lise who ended things, but the past, it seemed, was not easily left behind. Kristopher had diligently pursued the leadership of the Norris family, harboring dreams of finally being with Lise. Yet, when he reached his goal, he discovered that Lise had already chosen another. In defiance of his family's expectations and perhaps out of bitterness, Kristopher turned to Carrie, a woman equally devoid of wealth or status, to become Mrs. Norris, thereby blocking any matchmaking attempts by his relatives. At that time, Carrie faced immense pressure from her father, Tristan Campbell, who was pushing her towards a marriage with a playboy, the son of a business associate, to cover her grandmother's steep medical expenses. Both Kristopher and Carrie, driven by their personal motives, consented to a marriage of convenience. Originally set for just one year, their contractual marriage stretched beyond its term, sustained by a shared understanding between them. Over time, Carrie began to believe in the authenticity of their union, never suspecting that it was merely an extension of her hopes. Just moments ago, a fire had nearly claimed Carrie's life. In that critical moment, she reached out to Kristopher, only to be twice rebuffed as he spent his time with Lise. This harsh reality shattered Carrie's illusions, revealing that her perceived transition from pretense to genuine relationship was nothing but a facade maintained by her own desires. Carrie wasn't even a temporary substitute in Kristopher's life but merely a pawn used to spite his family. After a poignant pause, tears welled up in Carrie's eyes, unstoppable and poignant. It might be time for her to release herself from the shackles of her own hopeful delusions--to stop deceiving herself. Chapter 2 Trending Topics The overwhelming number of injuries from the fire was staggering, straining the already frantic doctors and nurses as they tried to provide aid. Carrie had been merely grazed by a splintered clothes rack, which left a deep, jagged wound on her calf. In comparison to the chaos around her, her wounds seemed almost negligible. She managed to get basic care--a brisk cleaning and a quick wrap of bandages--at a local hospital before catching a cab back to her house. Bayview Villa, a grand property under Kristopher's name, was technically their matrimonial residence. Living alone had become the norm for Carrie, as Kristopher was hardly ever around. She had bid farewell to the housekeeper, discovering that her life could be quite adequately maintained with just takeout, deliveries, and the occasional visit from a part-time cleaner. Now, she found herself the sole occupant of the sprawling living room, sinking into the sofa, her gaze drifting across the empty space. The stark, monochrome decor did nothing to imbue warmth into the atmosphere. A chilling realization crept up on her: this vast, elegant space felt more like a colossal tomb, a silent grave for her lost years of youth and a love that had quietly slipped away. In this cold, echoing house, would anyone even notice if her breath ceased one day? Carrie exhaled a weary sigh, her frame heavy as she leaned against the cold wall for support, struggling up the stairs to her bedroom on the second floor. Each step was a battle, sending stabbing pains shooting through her from the surface of her skin down to her aching bones. The house, stark and hollow, echoed even the smallest sounds, magnifying her sense of isolation. It was today, amidst this profound silence, that Carrie truly grasped the all-encompassing nature of her loneliness--it was almost tangible, enveloping her senses with its texture and mournful whispers, tightening around her heart like a vice, producing a dull, relentless ache. Upon reaching the sanctuary of her bedroom, she collapsed onto the bed, the very embodiment of exhaustion, feeling it both physically and spiritually. Just as she surrendered to this weariness, the sharp ring of the phone pierced the silence. "You reached out to me earlier. What do you need?" Kristopher's voice cut through the line, cold and distant as ever. Carrie was caught off guard by his unexpected call. Words failed her as she parted her lips to respond, but before she could collect her thoughts, a soft, feminine voice floated through from the other end. "Kristopher, will you join me to..." A surge of emotions tightened Carrie's grip on the phone, her heart thumping louder with each second. Overwhelmed and unable to contain her rising panic, she demanded, "Who's there with you?" Kristopher gave no answer, merely stating in a flat, disinterested voice, "If there's something you need, let's catch up when I'm back. I have pressing engagements right now, so I must disconnect." He promptly ended the call, cutting off any chance for Carrie to reply. As the harsh beep of the disconnected line filled her ears, Carrie's lips twisted into a rueful grin. How utterly foolish she felt! Deep down, she knew his response all too well, yet she had clung to the hope of hearing his voice confirm it. With a sense of self-inflicted irony, Carrie activated her tablet and scrolled through the day's hot topics. One headline caught her eye: "A female star shielded from harassment at a dinner by her formidable partner." A wry smile twisted her lips. Carrie knew all too well what it was like to face harassment at those kinds of dinners. She vividly remembered her first major audition after her entering the showbiz; her agent had escorted her to a dinner with the influential director and producer of the drama series "Serene Sighs." As a novice in the dizzying world of showbiz, Carrie had felt incredibly vulnerable, uncertain of how to navigate the murky waters of such gatherings. The producer had eyed her shamelessly, sneering as he asked, "Is this the new talent you're introducing? She appears presentable, but I'm curious to see how she fares with a drink. Here's the deal, if you can gulp down this bottle in one go, I'll secure you an audition for the lead role." Carrie was inclined to decline, but under the relentless pressure from her agent, she found herself compelled to consume the entire bottle. As the evening wore on, she was hurriedly taken to the hospital suffering from a severe stomach ailment. Her agent, fretful about the prospect of the role slipping away to another, quickly settled the hospital charges and departed. At that time, Carrie found herself isolated in a hospital bed for several long days. Yet, even before Carrie could be released from the hospital, the media was abuzz with the announcement that Lise had secured the lead role in "Serene Sighs." Subsequently, her agent rebuked Carrie for her lack of ambition, complaining, "You are more appealing than Lise, so why can't you show more drive? She cozied up to Mr. Norris and hardly had to make an effort. She's surrounded by people eager to cater to her every need. I've heard that Mr. Norris personally orchestrated her landing the lead role in this production!" When the show premiered, Lise was catapulted into stardom, swiftly ascending to the elite echelons of the acting world. From that moment forward, Carrie let her acting aspirations wane and chose instead to devote herself entirely to supporting her husband, Kristopher. After all, no matter her efforts, she could never get the same career opportunities that Lise seemed to receive effortlessly with Kristopher's offhand remarks. At that time, Carrie had believed she was filling the role that was meant to be Lise's as Mrs. Norris, which meant she owed Lise. By giving up the career opportunities to Lise, Carrie thought they would settle their unspoken debt. However, Carrie hadn't foreseen that Lise would claim both the coveted career and Kristopher's affections. As Lise's professional and love life blossomed, Carrie came to the painful realization that she had been overly consumed with her romantic pursuits, at the expense of her career, and now, she found herself bereft of both love and professional fulfillment. With tears streaming down her face, Carrie viewed her past two years as tragically misguided. Given another opportunity, she resolved she wouldn't be so unguarded, letting her heart recklessly fall captive to Kristopher's charm. "Ms. Spencer, the new copyright contract is prepared. Please review it for any discrepancies." Her phone buzzed with the alert, snapping Carrie out of her reverie. She gazed at the PDF file attached in the message, her mind briefly overwhelmed. Under the pseudonym Katrina Spencer, Carrie had once made a name for herself as a budding screenwriter, selling numerous scripts in her early days. During her early career as Katrina, Carrie often sold her work for a pittance, compelled by her urgent need for immediate cash. Over the years, these scripts transformed into blockbuster films and hit series, catapulting Katrina's reputation to new heights. By this time, Carrie had married Kristopher and was no longer plagued by the financial woes that had once driven her to desperation--her grandmother's hefty medical bills were a thing of the past. With her financial crises resolved, Carrie's life had pivoted to domestic responsibilities, striving to be an exemplary wife to Kristopher. Amidst these changes, her pseudonym, Katrina Spencer, gradually receded into the background. However, her past as Katrina wasn't ready to be shelved just yet. Recently, an interested buyer had come forward, ready to pay a handsome sum for one of her old scripts. Carrie, however, was hesitant to sell. She raised several concerns about the contract presented to her, and to her astonishment, the buyer was genuine enough to revise it accordingly. Holding the revised contract in her hands, Carrie inhaled deeply, her resolve hardening. She seemed to have reached a crucial decision. Her fingers danced over her phone's keyboard with swift precision, typing out a firm command. "Create a divorce agreement following my terms and ensure it reaches Kristopher Norris at the Norris Group." Without pausing for a response, she placed her phone aside and limped toward the bathroom, each step echoing a blend of determination and newfound independence. Chapter 3 Exchange Of Conveniences Thirty minutes had passed, Carrie finally heaved herself up from the bathtub, her limbs feeling heavy and uncooperative. As she lifted her gaze, her own image in the mirror halted her movements--her skin appeared as smooth and impeccable as fine porcelain, glowing with an unblemished radiance. Her eyes, deep pools of allure, sparkled with an enchanting, soft warmth, inviting anyone who dared meet her gaze. Despite edging into her late twenties at twenty-five, she reveled in the fact that time had yet to etch its marks upon her flawless complexion. Surely, a woman with such a visage had no place for self-pity. Absorbed in her contemplation, Carrie carelessly extended her right leg onto the cold floor, forgetting it was the very limb she had injured. Wrapped excessively in cling film to shield it from moisture, the tight encasement had stifled her circulation, rendering her leg eerily numb. As her foot touched down, it betrayed her, slipping forward unexpectedly. "Ah!" Carrie gasped, her arms flailing in a frantic ballet, searching for a lifeline in the void. Just as she teetered on the brink of a painful rendezvous with the floor, the bathroom door burst open. Kristopher stood at the entrance, his suit immaculately tailored, creating a striking figure. As their eyes locked, he paused, visibly taken aback, then quickly closed the distance with brisk strides. Carrie's breath caught as Kristopher swept her up in a graceful bridal style, an unexpected tightness wrapping around her waist. Caught off guard by his sudden appearance, Carrie realized with a jolt that she was completely bare. A flush of embarrassment washed over her as she instinctively clutched her hands over her chest. This was their first moment of such intimacy since their wedding, and the discomfort made her toes curl inward, her skin blushing a delicate shade of pink. Kristopher looked down at her with a mischievous grin. "Let's be honest, there's not much to see," he teased gently. Feeling both mortified and slightly irritated, Carrie snapped back, "Oh, Mr. Norris, after all you've seen, I suppose nothing can impress you anymore." She carried her C-cup curves with understated charm, a touch of sensuality that outshone Lise's painfully flat, almost awkwardly rigid build. Yet Carrie knew well that without love, even the most perfect physique paled in comparison to the charm of one dearly cherished. Nonchalantly, Kristopher reached for a bathrobe hanging behind the door and draped it over her. His frown deepened at her comment. "What are you talking about, Carrie?" A thought seemed to strike him, and his expression grew even more impatient. "Tell me, did you send those divorce papers in the dead of night just to lure me back here--to catch you completely bare?" His tone was a mix of disbelief and annoyance. "I told you I was swamped with work. Was this dramatic display really necessary?" Carrie's temper flared at his accusatory tone, reigniting the tension between them. He was always so quick to lose patience with her. She wasn't the type to throw around words like divorce or breakups lightly. In fact, this was the first time she'd ever mentioned divorce in their two-year marriage, yet he seemed indifferent to her turmoil. He simply dismissed her concerns as if she were overreacting about trivial matters. Despite the throbbing pain in her leg, Carrie mustered her strength and said, "Put me down." Kristopher, however, paid no heed, his eyes scanning her leg swathed in bandages. His brow furrowed slightly. "What happened to your leg? Is this some elaborate ploy to lure me back?" At his words, a bitter laugh escaped Carrie. It seemed he viewed her as merely seeking attention, and in failing to capture it, she had likely concocted a story to draw him back, allowing her to dramatize her plight in his presence. With a blank face, she replied untruthfully, "It's a beauty treatment that shouldn't get wet." "Why did you suddenly decide to undergo such a treatment?" Kristopher inquired, his tone casual as he carried her outside, not pressing the issue further. His frame was large, and through his thin shirt, she could distinctly feel the warmth of his body and the defined shape of his chest muscles. The closeness created an uncomfortable tension for Carrie, who had resolved to end things once and for all. Her voice climbed involuntarily, sharper this time. "Oh, since when have you been concerned with such minor things, Mr. Norris?" For the first time, Kristopher witnessed her using biting sarcasm; it struck him as peculiarly amusing. With a calm demeanor, he responded, "You're my wife, it's only natural I'd be concerned about your well-being." "Really?" There was a somber note in Carrie's voice now. "It seems like you've never really regarded me as your wife. I'm scared that if I were to die, you wouldn't even know until much later." After all, at that very moment, Kristopher had been distracted, lost in moments with his first love, too consumed to lend an ear to her desperate pleas. Caught off guard by her accusation, Kristopher's eyes widened with surprise before he let out a disbelieving chuckle. "Carrie, what's brought on this sudden outburst of anger? Just because I was tied up this afternoon and missed your call? Perhaps I've been too indulgent with you lately, and it's made you a bit too presumptuous?" Carrie froze, startled. Was he accusing her of being too presumptuous? She realized their marriage had always been lopsided. In his eyes, she was nothing more than a transactional partner, a woman who had bartered her freedom for financial security. Their union was meant to be a mere exchange of conveniences, yet she had, quite foolishly, fallen deeply in love with him. In the tricky terrain of romance, the one who fell first invariably found themselves at a distinct disadvantage. Kristopher's dismissive reaction left Carrie reeling, her emotions dismissed as trifles, a tight knot of suffocation rising in her chest. "I said to put me down this instant!" Carrie exclaimed, jerking her head to the side, her voice laced with a sharp edge of impatience. Kristopher remained mute, effortlessly carrying her towards the bed before suddenly releasing his hold. Carrie felt a jolt as the support vanished, her heart skipping a beat as she instinctively grasped for him. Their bodies collided on the bed, her bathrobe teetering on the brink of decency, threatening to unravel with any minor shift. Propped on one elbow, Kristopher gazed down at her, his lips curled into a sly, teasing grin. "You wanted to be let go, didn't you? So why cling to me now?" His eyes, deep and sparkling like a midnight lake speckled with stars, captivated her. In those celestial depths, Carrie caught a glimpse of her own reflection. At times like this, she was misled into believing he harbored a deep affection. Sadly, his heart was a fortress reserved for Lise, and all Carrie had left were empty fantasies. "Boring!" she exclaimed, her voice devoid of any enthusiasm as she attempted to rise, her hand inadvertently brushing against something unexpected. The following moment brought a noticeable shift in his cock pressing against her stomach. "Don't move, or I can't promise what might happen next," he warned in a deep, gravelly voice. With a frown, Carrie internally cursed upon hearing the statement. It was an undeniable fact. Primal instincts steered the actions of men. Absence of affection didn't quell their basic desires. Yet, she dared not agitate Kristopher. Angling her face away, her body remained rigid, frozen in place. Carrie, feeling irked, shot back. "Didn't you say there's nothing here to see? What's with the reaction now, Mr. Norris? Are you really that easy to impress?" No sooner had her words flown than she grasped the potential repercussions of her sharp tongue. A wave of regret surged through Carrie, but instead of anger, Kristopher responded with a chuckle, "You are my wife, after all. Since that's something I can't alter, I might as well embrace it. Besides, it's been years since we became husband and wife--it would be a shame to neglect you completely." Chapter 4 Are You Out Of Your Mind? Kristopher slipped his hand beneath the folds of her bathrobe, his touch tracing the curve of Carrie's skin, as smooth and delicate as silk. He encircled her slender waist, drawing her closer with a gentle yet firm grip. Her face, a captivating canvas of defiance and visible irritation, ignited in him an uncontrollable urge to claim victory over her resistance. His breathing grew heavy, yet he remained composed, slowly removing his tailored suit. The fabric of his suit brushed lightly against Carrie's cheek, releasing a mix of scents: a familiar woody aroma intertwined with an unexpected zesty twist of lemon. It was unmistakably Jo Malone's Blue Agava and Cacao--Lise's signature scent. A surge of nausea overwhelmed Carrie at the realization. As Kristopher's eyes, now shaded with a stormy intensity, drew nearer to hers, the proximity conjured unwelcome visions of him with Lise. Her stomach churned violently, and with a sudden movement, she pushed him away, propping herself up with a jolt and a dry retch. "Ugh..." Her stomach had been empty all day, leaving her with nothing to bring up. The desire in Kristopher's gaze flickered out, replaced by a cold, detached expression as he withdrew slightly. Observing the genuine distress and the reddening of Carrie's eyes, Kristopher perceived her reaction for outright disgust at their closeness. He paused, fingers adjusting his shirt cuffs, his voice cold as he confronted her. "Carrie, is this reaction reserved only for me, or is it how you respond to all men?" The air in the room turned frosty, thick with tension. Carrie swallowed the sharp sting in her throat, her eyes widening in shock as she stared up at him. Ever since their marriage, she had cut ties with nearly all her male friends, yet here was Kristopher, casually tossing out comments sharp enough to cut glass. The years of love she had poured into their relationship now seemed utterly futile. Heat crept up her neck, coloring her cheeks a bright scarlet as indignation took hold. Without thinking, her hand flew up and delivered a stinging slap across Kristopher's face. All her suppressed grievances from the day ignited in that swift motion. Her bathrobe, loosened in the heat of the moment, slipped from her shoulders. Ignoring the flush of exposure, she swiftly gathered the fabric and draped it around herself, her movements quick and firm. The impact of her slap had left a light, crimson mark on Kristopher's cheek, marking him with her outrage. His eyes, wide with disbelief, met hers. "Carrie, are you out of your mind?" Out of her mind? Yes, she was clearly insane to ever fall for him in the first place. Carrie fumed silently, her heart pounding in her chest. Suddenly, the sharp buzz of the phone on the table cut through the mounting tension, its vibration bringing a brief respite from their standoff. Kristopher cast a fleeting glance at the message, shut off the phone with a snap, and strode towards the door, his back rigid with tension. Her voice, firm and unwavering, chased after him. "We're getting a divorce! Make sure you sign those papers before you walk out that door!" Kristopher paused briefly and said sharply, "I have something to do now. When I return, do whatever pleases you." With that, he forcefully shut the door. Carrie's eyes followed his unwavering exit, feeling an oppressive weight compressing her chest once again. She disregarded the sharp sting in her leg and hobbled determinedly toward her tablet. Fingers trembling, she hastily navigated to Lise's Twitter page. Lise had just uploaded a new tweet. The photo showed her lying down with a fever patch adhered to her forehead, still enveloped in Kristopher's familiar jacket. The caption read, "Being sick makes me extra clingy. Wishing I had someone here. Stay cozy and take care, everyone!" The simultaneous timing of these two events made it almost impossible for Carrie not to suspect that Kristopher had dashed off to tend to Lise. Carrie's instincts loudly proclaimed that this was no accident; Lise had deliberately sought to tug at Kristopher's heartstrings. It appeared her tactics were effective. Not even Carrie's stark threat of divorce could overshadow Lise's theatrical display of vulnerability. Seething with fury, Carrie quaked like a leaf swept into a storm. She steeled herself against the heartache, forcefully ripping the plastic wrap from her aching leg. After her lengthy soak, the bath's lingering moisture had infiltrated her skin, inflaming the wound until it was a vivid, angry red and painfully swollen. She, too, could be clingy. Even in the harshest times back in the county, she had shown vulnerability, breaking down into soft sobs within the comforting arms of her grandmother, especially that one time she got burned by the scalding kettle. But such vulnerability had its time and place, and it wasn't now. The stark reality of Kristopher's exit forced Carrie to confront her need for self-reliance. Biting down hard on her lip, Carrie cleaned the throbbing wound with a practiced hand before securely wrapping it anew. She rose with a newfound resolve and yanked a black suitcase from the far end of her expansive walk-in closet--it held all the belongings she'd brought into this house as a hopeful bride. She grabbed a fresh set of clothes to slip into and left a bank card neatly on the bedside table. She had transferred every penny she'd earned over the past year onto that card, effectively settling her financial entanglements with Kristopher over the last two years and cutting him out of her life for good. Dragging the heavy suitcase behind her, she limped painfully out of the opulent villa. As she passed through the gate, she wrapped her baseball jacket more tightly around her slight figure, her silhouette hauntingly solitary in the enveloping darkness. The night air of early spring was bitingly cold, devoid of any trace of warmth, a chill that seemed almost faint compared to the ice forming in Carrie's shattered heart. She had arrived here with nothing but a suitcase and a heart full of dreams, and now she was leaving, dreams crumbled, utterly alone. A bitter laugh slipped through her lips. If only she hadn't fallen so hard for him, if only she'd proposed an amicable separation at the end of their agreed year, maybe she wouldn't be wandering now, a lost soul in the shadow of her former self. Lise didn't have to lift a finger, and Carrie had already fallen, utterly broken and beyond redemption. Chapter 5 A Gathering Meanwhile, in the Oasis Club, renowned as the priciest spot in Orkset, the air within the VIP room crackled with excitement. Under the spell of bright lights and thumping music, a diverse group of men and women lounged together, basking in the exclusivity of the setting. Suddenly, the door burst open, revealing Kristopher in the doorway. The karaoke session halted abruptly as the crowd turned to greet him in unison, voices mingling. "Kristopher..." Before they could utter another word, a woman cloaked from head to toe stepped out from behind him. Lise, with a fluid motion, removed her mask and slid her arm through Kristopher's. She addressed the room with a poised charm. "My assistant took a sudden leave, and I found myself without company. Not keen on spending the evening alone, I invited Kristopher to join me. I trust that's alright?" Lise's beauty was without question. Her face was a delicate composition of cherry lips and a sculpted nose, framed by eyes that shimmered with a vulnerable allure, commanding a protective fervor from those around her--her presence, ethereal. In contrast, Carrie's features were more pronounced, her beauty vivid and striking. Lise, by comparison, carried a softer, more understated elegance. Yet, as it often goes, matters of the heart followed no simple paths. While Kristopher and Carrie were married, it was in name only; Kristopher seemed detached and seldom included her in private social events. The group didn't have much of a relationship with Carrie, leading them to feel no obligation to defend her. Upon hearing Lise's comment, a moment of discomfort rippled through the air. Nonetheless, they quickly recovered, offering a congenial smile as they said, "We're all friends here; let's not bother with formalities." Lise offered a subtle, knowing smile, as she gracefully accompanied Kristopher into the bustling room. The event that evening had been meticulously planned to express appreciation for Kristopher's contributions. As they stepped into the room, the crowd parted like the sea, making way for them to proceed to the seats of honor. The group's leader handed Kristopher a glass of wine with a flourish, proclaiming with a broad grin, "We truly owe you a debt of gratitude, Mr. Norris! Your exceptional talents are the talk of the town, and witnessing them firsthand today only confirms it. Without your expertise, securing this contract would have been a fantasy!" Their gathering marked the launch of a novel shopping platform, one that had been in negotiation with numerous local brands in Orkset. But the scenario changed dramatically when the tech giant JoyBuy dramatically entered the scene, stirring up the competitive landscape. Competing with JoyBuy was akin to the classic David versus Goliath tale--hopelessly daunting. In a surge of desperation, they turned to Kristopher, reaching out through a network of connections for his renowned strategic prowess. With his characteristic swiftness, Kristopher hatched an ingenious plan and swiftly secured the deal, snatching it from the clutches of JoyBuy right before the business association could ink their agreement--a masterful coup that reverberated success. This remarkable turnaround only intensified the already deep respect everyone held for Kristopher. Albin Murray, beaming with pride, couldn't help but boast, "Ah, just look at the caliber of his friends! They thought they could steal deals right under our noses, obviously underestimating Kristopher's clout!" Albin, born into the wealthy Murray family, counted himself among Kristopher's closest friends. He was renowned for his sprawling social web--a network through which the desperate plea for help was channeled to Kristopher. Meanwhile, Kristopher himself, the focus of all their discussions, reclined nonchalantly on the couch, bathed in the soft glow of the overhead lights. He was well-versed in the art of receiving compliments; thus, his expression stayed calm and detached. The ambient light sculpted his angular features, casting dramatic shadows that emphasized his high nose bridge and sharply cut jawline, as though he were a living masterpiece. His natural grace and detachment eclipsed any terrestrial magnificence. Following a sequence of celebratory toasts, when it became apparent that Kristopher merely touched his glass without truly drinking, the rest of the company toned down their conversation, allowing him a moment of repose with his eyes gently shut. Lise, slightly feverish, opted not to indulge in the spirits, choosing instead to sit in serene silence next to Kristopher, her eyes lingering on him with a look of deep, unmistakable adoration. Albin, captivated by the seemingly perfect pair, pondered the whims of destiny. He discreetly captured their image with his smartphone and nonchalantly shared it across his social networks. As the evening progressed and the liquor dwindled, the room's door swung open anew. Kristopher's personal assistant, Oliver Brooks, made his entrance, acknowledging the gathering with a courteous nod that bordered on respect but avoided groveling, swiftly positioning himself in front of Kristopher. Silence hung in the air, yet Lise, unable to contain her curiosity, leaned in and whispered, "What's going on?" Oliver, maintaining his focus on Kristopher, chose not to respond directly to her. A flush of embarrassment tinted Lise's cheeks as she turned towards Kristopher, hesitatingly inquiring, "Should I leave?" Kristopher adjusted his posture, his voice low and calm as he instructed, "Go ahead, speak." A shiver of apprehension coursed through Oliver as he tentatively began, "Mr. Norris, Mrs. Norris has departed from Bayview Villa, and..." &10& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65282322-fb_contact-e | Lime novel-E | https://www.facebook.com/100090637249756/ | 339 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65282322-fb_contact-enp26_6-1226-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=2030515880733998&exdata=6759699832EB5EBBD075F78E3BE28F2288C6DFE2A8554350 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481700752_1150393846543335_5487830313598424214_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=w2t3NiV0lH0Q7kNvgEdXV2s&_nc_oc=Adhj2ap_I3RpqqkTjD_YsmlK3OSwgc0G4HPIj0glXMUh5uICc_v2UaIzag_doRxBMptoxGoI_LXAntQ4-2uGbl2W&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A6QAJppp147pnzAZlbPRYq3&oh=00_AYD7q-xPs_Prghk6W8ySq6ZxrGHNBDJuLbHWZZ2Z8R7WUQ&oe=67C300A3 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Lime novel-E | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete |
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