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2,693,192	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-02-25 16:51	active	2627	🔞🔥Click to Read more about📜<The Rejected Rogue Luna>📜	“This is such a pleasant surprise, Seth” 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. “I had no idea you were throwing a party for my homecoming” I tell him, kissing him slightly on the cheek. “I had no idea you were back, Rowena. You should not be here” He pushes me, holding me away from his body. “Did you not get my letter?” I ask, my smile falling from my face. “What letter?” He grunts. “The 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 know” 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. “Who then is the party for?” 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. “Hello mate” I hear her whisper. Mate? I gasp. I push forward, stopping her approach. “Rowena” She jolts. “What are you doing here?” She glances at Seth who shrugs his shoulders. “I should be asking you that question, don’t you think? What are you doing?” I cry out. “I am getting engaged” She smiles brightly at me. “It is great that you are here, maybe you could be my chief’s bridesmaid?” “You have got to be joking” I scoff. “Not now, Rowena. We will talk about this after” Seth stops me, putting out a hand for Isobel. “No” I raise my voice, my insides shaking with confusion. I cannot believe my eyes as I watch them turn to me. “We have to talk about it now” I tell him, braving the stares I am getting from every member of the pack. “Okay, if you want to do this here then that is fine by me” Seth growls, stepping away from Isobel and approaching me. “Seth, what is the meaning of this? We are mates… you can still feel it so why?” “I, Seth de Beaufort reject you, Rowena Stuart as my mate and future Luna” He declares. “No, stop it please… do not do this” I grunt, my chest tearing apart with pain. I double over, clutching my pounding heart. “Accept the rejection!” He spits. “Accept it and leave so that I might have a great day with my true mate” He announces. “I, Rowena Stuart… accept your rejection” 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 other’s 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. “Rowena, I…” “Have you not done enough, Isobel?” I rise to my feet and face her. She has a smirk on her face “How could you? I trusted you, you are my best friend!” I cry out. “It is hardly my fault that Seth took a liking to me while you were away pursuing the career of your dreams.” she scoffs at this. I had gone to learn modern healing and had been supported by every member of the clan, including Seth. “Who do you think comforted him on the nights when he was alone and needed company?” I make to slap her but she catches my hand in the air, throwing it back at me. “This is the least of your problems, I promise you” She tells me instead. “What is that supposed to mean?” I ask “Did you come here straight from the airport?” She throws her head back to laugh. I did come there straight because I thought… “What do you mean?” I ask her again. “I don’t know, friend. You should probably run along home now before it is too late” 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. “What is happening?” I mutter, running inside. Sybillia, my sister has tears streaming down her face and her clothes torn to shreds. “What happened, talk to me” I shake her. “Father was taken” Her voice broke. “Taken?” I ask, confusion dotting my forehead “They say he is a traitor and they are going to kill him, Rowena. You have to do something.” She holds me, crying some more. “Where is mother?” I ask her. She shakes her head in the negative which told me that she had no idea where our mother was. “Listen, Sybil… I need you to find mother” I shake her again. “Do you hear me? I want you to find her and then I want you both to hide” I tell her. “What are you going to do?” She asks. “I need to find out what is going on” 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. “My father, what has he done?” I ask, my voice breaking. Seth, my one time lover and mate regards me with disgust, his lips quirking up in a sneer. “He is a traitor and for that he must die” Screams of hate ROWENA “That is a lie” 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. “I will allow you leave this place and we will speak when my party is over” Seth warns me. “I want to know what crimes my father has committed for you to lock him up” I repeat. “Look at her” Isobel grunts, turning to Seth. “She does not respect you, my love. Tell me how she is going to remain in this pack if she is this defiant towards you” She mutters. Seth’s eyes darkens as he rises to his feet, pointing a hand towards me. “You dare speak back to your Alpha?” 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. “Your father has admitted to his crimes and come noon tomorrow, he will be beheaded as a traitor and so will your mother” He announces The crowd cheers again “You will denounce them, yourself and your sister or you will leave me no choice” “I cannot do that… I cannot-” “And 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 Luna” My friend smiles, clasping her fingers together. “Guards” Seth calls The door swished open again and they enter. “Get 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 tomorrow’s noon after the execution of Grant and Helena Stuart” He declares. “No” 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. “Rowena?” A voice calls out. I recognize it immediately as Isobel and wonder what she wants. “What the do you want?” 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. “I hate you” I snap. “What do you hate me for? For sleeping with her fiance or reporting your parents for…” She pauses as my eyes widens in realization. “Oops” She laughs. “You are a slut who moved on her friend’s man almost immediately she…” “Almost immediately?” She stops me, scoffing. “Have you been so utterly blind, Rowena?” 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. “Seth and I have been together before you both began dating. The engagement to you was his father’s idea… you do not think he wanted to get married to you, did you?” She asks. “What are you talking about?” I mutter. She laughs then, her voice grating on my ears. “You 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 has…” “I claimed?” I stop her. “Seth is my mate!” I scream at her “But he is also mine!” Isobel screams back at me. “You are lying, that is not possible” “It 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 Seth’s offer” “You plotted this, didn’t you? You plotted this treason and you somehow roped my family into it” I accuse. “Whatever are you talking about, dear girl” She mocks, her eyes wide with innocence. “Get out” I snarl, my eyes blue with rage. “Your parents have been arrested but we are yet to catch Sybillia. Where did you send her?” 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. “I have no idea where she is” I mutter. “Yes 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 pack” My lips curve up in a smile but I say nothing. “Where the is she?” Isobel asks again, approaching me. “I have no idea” I repeat. She stares at me, the anger evident in her gaze. “You will pay for this” 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. “Who’s there?” I mutter. “Rowena?” I hear my sister. “Sybil?” I ask, scampering to my feet. “How are you here? I thought you somehow escaped” “I was caught. They have mom and dad and they… they are going to kill them” She cries out. “Come here” 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. “Everything will be alright” I reassure her. “What are we going to do?” She asks me. “We have to do something” “We ask the moon goddess for help” 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 sister’s and I drift into sleep. … “Drag her out!” The loud boom of voice arouses me from my sleep. I hear screaming right before my sister is yanked from my grasp. “No, leave her alone” I yell. The door to my prison is also opened and I am dragged out too. “Leave my sister the …” One of the guards back hand me across the face and blood spurts out of my mouth. “Shut your mouth, cunt” 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. “We are gathered here today to sentence Grant and Helena Stuart for the crime of dabbling into the dark arts” 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. “How do you both plead?” Seth roars, rising to his feet. My father says nothing and so does my mother. “I will spare both your daughters if they denounce your family right this minute” 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. “No” I scream, rising to my feet to stop her but I am held back by the guards. “You asshole” She pants. “You cannot do this, Sybil… it is treason” I scream, tears streaming down my face. “Put the crossbow down, Sybillia” My father’s calm voice comes through. My sister’s 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. “Do it” 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.	LEARN_MORE	https://www.novel-oasis.com/share/middle/e34twsogm	Le	https://www.facebook.com/100092986922851/	73	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more		www.novel-oasis.com	VIDEO		https://www.novel-oasis.com/share/middle/e34twsogmjo1gayqwqbdyfxa?ad_id={{ad.id}}&sid=120218744089860112&campaign={{campaign.name}}&adgroup={{adset.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468226067_1134572328117328_6505743296843324535_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ZhRugFKpP8kQ7kNvgHFOJbO&_nc_oc=AdiQFsTeQUUxSF13Zeqxsl6rA8gIoymWh_IvgE64wLXWyfFiVEe2UFzg4a6Tty_-lH8Ya9kqIKIyUjJKmT-_ziTo&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AaXe6GtEHq4fur1Ik931jW9&oh=00_AYANO3y55ejaZ3WxtxxUnNybnnhJogvdim1kUBV1daTYTA&oe=67C40C47	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Le	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,691,885	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2691359}'	No	2025-02-24 19:43	active	2625	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	"Where is she?" I hear the Beta scream. I groan and rise to my feet, grabbing the cleaning basket before heading over. The moment Beta Kyle sees me, he strides towards me and his hand slices against my cheek. I don't make a sound. Years of experience has taught me to keep my mouth shut at all times. "Alpha Trey and I are expecting company and you still have not cleaned the office." Beta Kyle spits at me. I nod my head and my hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If only I could find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make my day. But I didn't need another week locked up with no food. My stomach already hurt enough. "We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Don't you understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!" I don't answer, It's a trap, a ploy to provoke me into saying something that would justify punishment. I keep my eyes lowered, avoiding his gaze. Alpha Dane, I had only ever heard rumours about him. He was a ruthless man, a Wolf feared by others. He didn't mess around and he had the largest pack. "He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!" We had never been attacked and we had never attacked anyone, so why did we need another pack to help us? He grabs my shoulders, his nails digging into my skin as he turns me around and kicks me into the office. "Useless Wolf." He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean against it, observing the already clean office. It looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing my eyes, I slide down to the floor. I hated this house. I thought that when I turned eighteen, I could finally escape, but four 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. Someone clears their throat and I freeze, I thought I was alone. 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 don't quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. "Is this the way you greet all Alphas?" His deep voice rumbles through the room, there was an edge of amusement to his tone. "I'm sorry." I whisper, getting to my feet. "I...I thought I was alone." I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. "Come forward." He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey wil kill me. I step around the corner, doing as I'm told, allowing him to see me properly. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. "You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?" I nod, though I couldn't tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. "I would prefer it if you spoke to me." He growls, "I'm not in the mood to play games." "Yes." I whisper. I couldn't help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? "Why do you smell strange? And how is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me." "I..." I hated the question. "You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. It's rude to not look at them. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?" 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."My Wolf abilities were bound," I mutter. Twice, I wanted to add. Twice my abilities were bound. But he probably wasn't interested in that part. He leans forward, I could feel him staring at me, "Why would someone do that?" If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. "It was a punishment." I whisper. It wasn't far from the entire truth. There's 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 couldn't tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me "Neah, what are you doing in my office?" He turns to the crimson eyed man. "I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it's him. My brother spins around, hand poised to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He is taller than my brother, more muscly too. "Neah," My name rolls off of his tongue, "was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested." What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. "Go and get Beta Kyle." Alpha Trey seethes. "Tell him our guest is here." I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. "Beta Kyle," I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. "Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you." He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. "You're lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't see sunlight for a few days." Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn't speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn't last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. "Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating." I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. "Neah is your sister, correct?" Alpha Dane questions my brother. "She is." Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. "Why do you treat her like trash?" Straight to the point, my brother wouldn't like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. "Neah was responsible for our parents' death." Alpha Trey spits I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Responsible how?" Alpha Dane's voice rumbles through me. He was definitely angry. "She served them Wolfsbane." Don't make a sound. Don't make a sound. I knew Alpha Dane was studying me. They all did, no one could ever quite believe how someone could do something so disgusting as poisoning their own parents. I stood there, with my head hanging low, wishing for the ground to open up and suck me in. There are movements around me. He was standing directly in front of me. With a rough finger he tilts my face up towards his, forcing me to look at him. "You poisoned your parents?" "I was six." I splutter. "I just made them lemonade." 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 brothers. "Hardly seems fair to blame a six year old." "A six year old should know the difference between plants." Alpha Trey snaps "Sounds to me like she was set up." Alpha Dane shrugs his shoulders, letting go of me. "You weren't there, Alpha Dane." My brother muttered through gritted teeth as his eyes narrowed to slits. "I didn't ask you here to talk about my slave!" Alpha Dane grabs his leather jacket from the chair. Unlike other Alpha's he seemed to dress more casually. A simple black tee and jeans covered his huge frame. And unlike other Alpha's, his arms are bare of tattoos, not a single bit of ink poked out anywhere. "You're right and now I have a few things to mull over." "I thought we agreed." My brother exclaims "Nothing has been signed. Now I will show myself out." The moment he is out of the office, both my brother and Beta Kyle round on me. "What the heck did you say to him?" My brother demands, slamming a hand into my stomach. "N...nothing. Well, he just asked me why I smelled funny." "Did you tell him?" Beta Kyle demands. He was practically spitting in my face. I hated him. I hated him so much that I had vowed to one day get my revenge and rip his stomach out through his mouth. "WELL?" My brother yells when I don't immediately respond and smacks me across the side of the head. My head involuntarily moves up and down. "But I didn't say it was you." I tried to sound strong and confident but it just comes out as a whisper. My brother's hand locks into my black hair as he yanks my head back, sending a shooting pain through my skull. "If you have ruined this, you won't see daylight again." He drags me by my hair from the office and down the hallway towards the basement door. "Please…." I beg. "He was an Alpha…I… I had to answer him." My cheeks burn with my tears as he flings the door open. On the other side of the door is Alpha Dane. He is leaning against the wall with his arms folded, staring out at us. My brother's hand falls from my hair, relieving the pressure on the back of my skull... "Alpha Dane, I thought you had left." Alpha Trey murmurs angrily. "I said I would show myself out. I thought I had found the door, but instead I find a basement, riddled in your sister's strange scent. Is this how you treat your family?" "As I said," my brother holds his ground, "She is responsible for the death of my parents, so yes, this is what she deserves." "You should keep your nose out of other packs' business!" Beta Kyle adds. Alpha Dane laughs. "If I agree to this deal, everything about your business becomes my business. So tell me, what would your punishment be for her? No food, locked away for a week, beatings?" Both Alpha Trey and Beta Kyle hold their tongues. There was no reason for him to defend me and yet he was. I was a nobody, no one special. Just who everyone called a traitor. Only instead of being given a death sentence, my brother had decided to make me spend my life suffering. I see those crimson eyes land on my swollen face. "I have a proposition for you, Alpha Trey." Alpha Dane speaks up again. "We have already agreed on terms." "Well, I'm adding one. And if you don't agree, you will not get my help. Instead, you will become my enemy. And we both know, you don't want that." "I take it that your new terms have something to do with her?" Alpha Trey mutters through clenched teeth. "You would be correct. Let me take her away to my pack and then you, Trey will have a deal." Me? Why would he want me? As my brother and his Beta discuss me, Alpha Dane is still studying me. His look made me nervous. What could someone like him possibly want with me? "Deal." Alpha Trey sticks out his hand for Alpha Dane to shake. He doesn't take it, instead his crimson eyes shift from me to my brother. "I will have paperwork drawn up and will return tomorrow." He reaches a hand out and cups my face, "Ensure you have everything packed." He drags his thumb across my bottom lip and strides to the opposite end of the hallway and straight to the front door. He knew exactly where the front door was, so what was he up to? He pauses at the door. "If I find out any one of you has laid a hand on her. The contract will be the last thing you need to worry about." He struts out, slamming the door behind him. After Dane leaves, my brother grabs me by the collar. "You think you're going to have a good life if you follow Alpha Dane out of here? Don't be naive!" He continues in a vicious voice. "He's the coldest man in the world, he's killed nine of his mates, I'm waiting to see what happens to you!"	LEARN_MORE	https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=17724&u	New world publications	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	3,808	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more		wwwedb.com	VIDEO		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=17724&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/t39.35426-6/475116542_623174143619220_3801809277658313685_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=PsW76bg6c7wQ7kNvgHpM1vA&_nc_oc=Adh7UyboPuJxt_pfzmssq-PmpFQiSIsA9dCT9YcOHfYlF_hJGFznTcUMAWWFjC04h2edR1AClQDvsg2i0uzIekK0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AWV0KKndS_ZE82Di2QyWtpA&oh=00_AYDoiz__LhHh6rqnNfiWZzvRHk9uS3mWuSH9W9rrZXVfQQ&oe=67C2EAD5	PERSON_PROFILE	0	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
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2,689,346	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2689266}'	No	2025-02-24 19:00	active	2623		USA-Only Alert! 🚨 🔥 Your chance to WIN an iPhone 16 Pro is HERE! 🔥 One lucky winner from the USA will take home the brand-new iPhone 16 Pro – are you ready to claim it? 🎉📱 How to Enter: ✔ Follow us on Facebook ✔ Like & Share this post ✔ Tag 3 friends in the comments (More tags = More chances!) 🎯 Winner will be selected randomly using the Comment Picker tool and announced soon! Don't miss out—enter now! 🚀 #Giveaway #iPhone16Pro #WinBig #TechGiveaway #LuckyDraw #ContestAlert #TagAFriend #FollowUs #ShareToWin #AppleLover #FreebieFriday #FollowToWin #BigPrizes #LuckyWinner #TrendingNow #ContestGiveaway #GiftAway #iPhoneFans #TagToWin #StayTuned #WinItNow #AppleFans #EnterToWin #USAOnly #USAGiveaway #USContest #MadeForUSA #WinItAll	MESSAGE_PAGE		EdgeTix	https://www.facebook.com/edgetix.us/	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Send message			IMAGE			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481201964_1727439401171700_5252216133436483705_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ysdoXoGbdzkQ7kNvgEWXZfV&_nc_oc=AdjGUacn27vxuQWhipdZepEmxGiZL6iAtotjZuiySZq8FDdGx-IzFwJLja3WFnv60RrLoi3smuhgCl-MyvP_jpmr&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A3J1aq5g6LvS-OPoPZ4Qd41&oh=00_AYBDBAARaUnCiNCh_r8GwVC0e4ppen6IMIFiz_1ffAHN0Q&oe=67C2E1F1	PERSON_PROFILE	0	EdgeTix	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,693,875	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-02-25 17:24	active	2628	Read next chapter👉	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	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more		fbweb.moboreader.net	VIDEO		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65282322-fb_contact-enp26_6-1226-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=2030515880733998&exdata=A52D98D16FC0FE8E9BDCC019D30564AA8D42FEE7248982B1	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480293327_412928818579149_1676412664047136376_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=yai3PTPqm7UQ7kNvgEnNh-k&_nc_oc=AdiPxTxSP9vdz9JV0tEQMpz25oRtDr3qcl37cEE8TcTA8Zn22XclUfz5d8EAW_qxbOY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A_1g3hfMoL4FTgIuXsMBHl7&oh=00_AYCAF3bYAR_AoHaEsV1Eogct5kCmmyMbU0rQGFJQOFYawA&oe=67C42BDA	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Lime novel-E	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,694,265	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"is_bh_simple_request":false,"simple_request_ratio":1,"is_bh_selenium":false,"selenium_ratio":1,"ratio_threshold":0.8}'	No	2025-02-25 17:24	active	2628	Free Diaper Giveaway	🍼 Free Diapers for Families in Need! 🍼 If you or someone you know could use a helping hand with diapers, we’re here to help. Join us on Wednesday March 5th 2025 at 7pm for a special evening of support and encouragement. 📍 Location: 11057 Hill Dr Loma Linda, CA 92354 🕡 Doors Open: 7pm After a 60-minute inspirational service, we’ll be distributing FREE diapers to families in need. All are welcome to attend! You must register, click the link below to sign-up now!!! 📲 For more information, text (843) 954-3683	SIGN_UP	https://freegiveaway.typeform.com/DIAPERSLA	Campus Hill Social	https://www.facebook.com/CampusHillSocial1/	2	1969-12-31 18:00	Sign up		freegiveaway.typeform.com	IMAGE	Turn data collection into an experience with Typeform. Create beautiful online forms, surveys, quizzes, and so much more. Try it for FREE.	https://freegiveaway.typeform.com/DIAPERSLA	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481904385_617061537699802_4633513864978616869_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=j_Tfu-FmFIwQ7kNvgEDNldv&_nc_oc=AdgkwCgDECQqpOZi5e24LURZ2Lwu6xlXjoJrIXb9cl5cJ98NFP-UBWUoCP9FXtEj7QQ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AvgZTgBbwEMJRH9d0oMVAJN&oh=00_AYCHlmcH5dl_HPVcW0I7xAJqMx2MO8wcTgBtNfZ2WuWP0Q&oe=67C43002	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Campus Hill Social	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,692,983	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-02-25 16:51	active	2627	Crash your enemy now!	Defend your tower! 🚨 Battle anywhere, anytime. Fascinating mechanics and intricate details await you to explore!	PLAY_GAME	http://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.f	Random TD	https://www.facebook.com/randomtd/	46,415	1969-12-31 18:00	Play Game	蓝色光标（天津）移动互联科技有限公司	play.google.com	DCO	{{product.description}}	http://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.feelingtouch.rtd	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/473429745_1539429470098174_6725002074555017699_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=S-1u3sESTNsQ7kNvgFp8p33&_nc_oc=Adj96qZ3C3x3gBMpsUcTLrKI8Sb6EKXUjwEncFYfgmp12QB-sV3B0SLGLn2qYocFr9Z1dzA2xMKRZ2Z6rTsXSxhl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-lga3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AyFsmEESOM3waZjudoJdxry&oh=00_AYAgdNOK4K4iXkX4LX0IcEonfFPdkhSzyemRUtEuiXXcxg&oe=67C426DC	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Random TD	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,691,592	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2691498}'	Yes	2025-02-24 19:42	active	2625	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	I got home after a long day, and my parents were waiting for me in the living room. "Catherine, sit down. We need to talk," my father said, looking quite agitated. "What's going on, Dad?" I asked tiredly. I had worked all day, gone to college at night, and upon getting home, all I wanted was to take a shower and crash into bed. But that wasn't possible. "Catherine, your cousin's wedding invitation has arrived," my mother said. "That little tramp is not my cousin!" I snapped, already getting angry. "Catherine, she is your cousin," my mother insisted. "You need to stop this childish behavior. Melissa already hit her and caused a scene here at home. Enough! She's my sister's daughter, which makes her your cousin." "I'm sorry, Mom, but she means nothing to me," I tried to stay calm. "She slept with my boyfriend in my bed. That's not something she should do." I had been dating Claude for four years; he was my first boyfriend, and I found him in my bed, in my room, sleeping with Kelly, my cousin! I was in shock. Of course, Melissa, my best friend, went after them. Since then, things had been tensed at home because my parents insisted it was silly and that I should act as if nothing had happened and go back to being around my cousin. "He was wrong, Catherine, since he was your boyfriend," my mother argued. "Kelly, poor thing, was seduced. He dishonored her, now he's marrying her so she won't be talked about badly in town." "Oh, Mom! Spare me! The whole town knows Kelly is a shameless woman..." I lost my patience. "Catherine, watch your language!" my father scolded me. "Look, if you don't want to be around Kelly, fine, but you're going to this wedding. And enough with this rude behavior." "I'm what?" I thought I had heard wrong. "You're going to your cousin's wedding, Catherine. That's an order! We're your parents, and you'll obey," my mother spoke angrily at me as if I were the one in the wrong. "I'm sorry, Mom, but I won't! I follow your rules, I'm a good daughter, but this time I can't. I was the one who was wronged! I have every right not to want to be the family joke anymore," I said, already crying. "ENOUGH, CATHERINE!" my father shouted, startling me. "You're going to this wedding, and that's final." "But, Dad..." "I don't want to hear it, Catherine! It's important to your mother to keep peace in the family. So you're going, period," my father said, leaving no room for argument. I spent the night crying in my room. The next day, I told Melissa everything. She wasted no time and arranged invitations to a masquerade ball, a gala event. She told my parents it would be crucial for my career since the city's most important businesspeople would be there. I could make valuable connections, and our professors had promised to introduce us to various entrepreneurs who could open doors for our professional future. At first, my parents weren't entirely convinced, but Melissa's parents talked to them and persuaded them that it would be an excellent opportunity for my future. So they agreed that I should take advantage of it. "Catherine, you can't say no to me! I've already bought the tickets and masks, and I even convinced your parents that this is a super important event for your professional future, which was such hard work. This party is going to be incredible, and you're not going to miss it!" Melissa looked at me with puppy dog eyes, clasping her hands together as if begging. I was sitting at my desk at work in the middle of a Thursday afternoon, between taking messages and making calls, when Mel showed up with coffee, chocolate muffins, and this persistence about getting me to agree to go to the masquerade ball, which was the biggest annual event in our city. "Oh, Mel, how is it that I can never say no to you? Alright, I'll go!" I agreed to go to the ball, but I still wasn't sure. Either way, I was going to sleep at Mel's house to avoid the wedding, but I wasn't planning on going to the party. However, Melissa kept pushing until she convinced me to go. On Saturday, we got ready at her place. "Wow, girl! You look absolutely stunning!" She handed me a beautiful golden mask, intricately designed like lace that covered up to my nose, and I put it on. I was wearing a shimmering red satin dress, and the mask matched perfectly. "So, are we ready?" "Yes, we're ready," I replied and grabbed my purse. "Oh, I forgot my perfume." "No problem, you can use my mom's new perfume. She won't mind." When Fred, Mel's boyfriend, saw us, he smiled, gave Mel a kiss, and said: "Girls, you look gorgeous! I think you'll leave this party with a new boyfriend, Cat." "No boyfriend, Fred. Actually, I think I'd better stay, I'm not in the party mood. Please, Mel, let me stay?" Chapter 2 There was no way out - my friend dragged me to the ball. As soon as we got in, Mel pulled us to the bar and whispered in my ear: "It's an open bar tonight, so you're going to drink until all that sadness washes away!" Mel handed me two tequila shots while holding two more in her hands. "Let's down these!" We knocked back the tequila, and Fred was already handing each of us a cosmopolitan. Melissa dragged me to the dance floor, and I was actually having fun. When a slow song started playing, Fred and Mel began slow dancing together. I took that as my cue to head to the buffet, but I didn't make it there. I felt someone grab my hand, and when I turned around, there was a man in a black mask smiling at me - and what a smile! He kissed my hand and pulled me close, whispering in my ear with a husky voice: "Surely the most beautiful woman in the room won't deny me a dance, will she?" "And why not? Let's dance," I smiled back at him. It was impossible to resist that seductive husky voice and that gorgeous crooked smile! He was tall with broad shoulders, had a charming smile and blue eyes - so blue they were almost violet. He had sinfully tempting lips, brown hair, and when he pulled me by the waist, I placed my hands on his chest and could feel he was a wall of well-defined muscle. Although the mask concealed his face, he was very charming and enchanting. "I've been watching you since you arrived," this mysterious man whispered in my ear. "You're so beautiful!" "You're kind. But you're not from around here, are you?" He had a powerful presence, radiating authority. "No. A friend convinced me to come to this party." "Looks like we have something in common - my friends convinced me to come too." "Lucky me!" "And why's that?" I smiled. "Because I was captivated the moment I saw you. You're stunning." As he whispered in my ear, I got goosebumps, feeling my face flush and my body tingle - he truly had me enchanted. "Even with the mask?" "Even with the mask! You're too beautiful." "You're such a charmer." "You think I'm charming?" "You know you are. And handsome too." "I'm glad you like what you see." "And what do you do for a living, handsome?" - I felt a bit dizzy, not sure if it was from the drink or the delicious cologne that man was wearing. I ended up stumbling over my own feet. "Are you okay?" "I think I need some air." "Come with me." - He pulled me into a dark hallway that led to an emergency exit and started fanning my face. - "I really want to kiss you. May I?" - I nodded yes. He looked into my eyes, held the back of my neck, and our lips met. It started slow but deepened; he pressed me against the wall, and the kiss intensified even more, almost taking our breath away. When he broke the kiss so we could breathe, we looked into each other's eyes - it was like throwing gasoline on fire. He ran his hand down my waist to my leg and pulled my leg up to his waist. I was completely surrendered by then, feeling his body against mine. I went crazy with desire and pulled him closer, wrapping my leg around his waist. "You're a great kisser!" - I smiled at him and felt my whole body tingle. "Oh, beautiful, you're incredible. I want you so badly, here, right now!" - he said between kisses and slipped his hand under my dress, pulling it up and reaching my underwear. I was on fire when he put his hand inside my underwear and yelled. - "Oh! So delicious! So hot, so wet!" - He said and kissed me harder while unzipping his pants. With a quick movement, like someone who had done this before, he tore my underwear and caressed my entrance, as if asking for permission. He looked into my eyes again and asked: "What do you want me to do?" "I want you inside me now!" I responded shamelessly, already panting with desire. I couldn't resist those eyes and that husky voice. I'd never been like this before - normally, I would have pulled away the moment he grabbed my hand, but tonight I had promised myself to have fun and live in the moment if someone interesting came along. And that's exactly what I was doing, living in the moment. Hearing me, he entered me slowly, watching as I leaned my head against the wall and savored every inch of him - and he was huge. He took the opportunity to scatter kisses along my neck. When he was fully inside, he paused and whispered between kisses in my ear: "Now I'm going to move." He pulled out only to thrust back in with full force this time, and it was incredible. I was completely lost and driven wild by his movements as he moved in and out of me frantically. We lost control and gave ourselves over completely, as if nothing else existed around us. I felt a haze in my eyes as my climax began to build, and I moaned softly in his ear. At that moment, he seemed to go crazy, lifting my other leg to his waist as I wrapped them around him. Kissing me intensely, he thrust even harder into me - it was heaven on earth. I came again, even more intensely than before, leaving me breathless. As I was coming, he whispered that he was close to his limit feeling me pulse around him, and soon I felt his hot release inside me. We stayed there against that wall, completely breathless, his forehead resting against mine. While kissing me, he slowly withdrew, and I was thoroughly satisfied - as Melissa would say. I smiled and he looked at me, gave me a soft kiss and said: "You're truly amazing!" He gently lowered my legs until my feet touched the ground, fixed my dress, adjusted his pants, and hugged me. It was so intimate, so affectionate - despite the wildness of our encounter and the intensity with which we'd given in to each other, he was still gentle with me. I'd never had such an incredible experience, but I'd only ever been with my ex until now. And my ex had never cared about hugging me afterward, or worried about my pleasure - for him, it was just about getting in and out until he was satisfied. So having a man care about me, about my pleasure, take care of me - it was new, and amazingly so. He kissed my neck and whispered in my ear: "So, beautiful, I still don't know your name." It took me seconds to process and finally realize that I'd just slept with a complete stranger whose name I didn't even know. Just as I was about to speak, he pulled his phone from his pocket and asked for a minute to answer it. He stepped away slightly and I could only hear him raising his voice saying: "What did you say?" At that moment, the stranger ran off as if he'd forgotten about me, or as if he was just running away from the woman he'd quickly hooked up with at the party. Of course, Catherine, you're an idiot! But so what? I was just having fun too, and I didn't even know who the guy was, and he didn't know who I was. All good. I pulled myself together, looked in vain for my underwear - no idea where he'd thrown it - and left that hallway. I went back to the table and found Mel and Fred making out. They soon stopped and focused on me: "Mel, I think I found the Big Bad Wolf!" I laughed, and she laughed with me. "When we get home, I want to know everything!" "Of course you do!" I replied with sparkling eyes. "Prince, I think we can go now. What do you think, Cat?" "I'm ready whenever you are!" I said, downing a glass of water. "Let's go then, girls!" Fred said and led us to the exit. We'd barely gotten home when Mel started demanding: "Tell me everything - who is he, how it went, how it didn't go, everything." I laughed and told her everything. When I finished speaking, my friend was staring at me open-mouthed and asked: "You guys used protection, right?" My heart started racing! We hadn't used protection. I shook my head no at her; I was in shock realizing how careless I'd been. She immediately tried to calm me down: "No, Cat, calm down. I'm sure nothing will come of it. But you should get some tests done to make sure everything's okay. I'm going to the kitchen to make us some tea. Don't freak out!" Chapter 3 On Monday during lunch, I met Mel. She handed me a small bag from a fancy store, and I looked at her, confused. "My mom asked me to give this to you. She said it's perfect for you and doesn't suit her," Mel said with a big smile. I opened the bag, and inside was the perfume I had worn to the ball. A huge smile spread across my face. I loved that perfume, and it was part of the best night of my life. I just hoped that my best night hadn't left me with an STD as a souvenir. With that thought, I thanked Mel and told her I'd call her mom later, then mentioned I wanted to call the lab to schedule some tests. I called the laboratory and was informed that I needed a doctor's prescription to get the tests covered by health insurance. Thank God the company provided health insurance for employees because otherwise, I wouldn't know what to do. My salary wasn't high, and what little was left after covering college expenses went to helping at home, since my mom didn't work outside the house and my dad didn't make much as a driver. So I made a doctor's appointment, but the earliest available slot was two weeks away, and I waited anxiously. The more days passed, the more nervous I became, though Mel did everything to calm me down. On the scheduled date, she went to the doctor's with me. With the list of tests in hand, she personally scheduled the lab work and insisted on accompanying me. Three weeks had passed since the party when I finally got the tests done. The results came back five days later, and I returned to the doctor. Of course, Mel was with me. The doctor checked the results and looked me in the eyes: "Miss Catherine, your health is excellent. You're healthy. But from now on, you'll need to take better care of yourself." I breathed a sigh of relief, but was I really about to get lectured by the doctor for having unprotected bedlife with a stranger? Well, I deserved it - not using protection was silly, I could have caught a disease. And then he continued: "Congratulations, you're conceived! I'm going to refer you to an OB-GYN for prenatal care..." I didn't hear anything else, just the blood pulsing in my ears. I couldn't believe this! conceived? How would I explain this? It's not possible. Me, of all people, the perfect goody-two-shoes who never stepped out of line, who always considered the consequences before doing anything, who was always responsible - the first time I let rationality slide, I ended up conceived and didn't even know who the father was! Mel held my hand and kept repeating: "Calm down, Cat, everything will be okay!" How could everything be okay? I didn't even know who the father was. I would have to tell my parents, their only daughter would break their hearts. They would be disappointed, hate me, and kick me out of the house. How could I explain that I don't even know what the father of my child looks like? I was already hyperventilating. Suddenly, I felt the doctor taking my hand and speaking calmly: "Easy now, dear! The situation, from what I can see, isn't ideal, but you can't get this nervous, it will harm your baby. Now you have to take care of yourself for the baby's sake. I'm sure the people who love you will support and help you. But you need to calm down because only you can ensure this baby develops healthily and is born strong. Do you understand me?" I looked at that short, white-haired, slightly chubby gentleman, with his glasses perched on the tip of his nose, and nodded positively. Somehow he calmed me down a bit, maybe because his eyes sparkled with a kindness and understanding that we rarely see these days. The doctor asked his secretary to bring me some chamomile tea, and while I drank it and tried to calm down, he gave all the information to Melissa, who listened attentively. We left the office and Melissa took me to a diner, saying we needed to eat something. As soon as I sat down, I felt the tears falling. My friend hugged me and told me once again that I wasn't alone. I looked at her and said: "The only thing I'm sure of right now is that I want you and Fred to be my child's godparents because I know you'll support them and give them lots of love." Her eyes sparkled, and she burst into tears, responding between sobs: "I'll be the best godmother in the world and I'll always be close to our baby! And I'm sure Fred will be very happy too!" She assured me she would always be by my side, made it clear that I wouldn't go through anything alone, and that she would be with me when I talked to my parents. My parents... oh! I started thinking and decided I wouldn't hide it from them for even a day; I would tell them that very night. I wouldn't go to college, I would go home to talk to them. Mel immediately supported me and said: "Let's go then, I'm with you!" When we arrived at my house, my parents were startled, and my mom came right over, worried: "Girls, didn't you go to class today? Is everything okay?" "Not really, Mom. I need to talk to you both." My parents immediately realized it was something very serious. We all sat in the living room and I told them what was happening, admitting I had been irresponsible by hooking up with a stranger at the party. I obviously didn't go into details, but I made it clear that I couldn't find my child's father again. The disappointment in their eyes was evident. My mother was sobbing uncontrollably, saying I was ruined. My father hadn't said anything yet. Seeing how upset my mother was, Melissa quickly went to the kitchen and came back with a glass of sugar water for her. Melissa always gives sugar water to nervous people, saying it calms them down - I never understood that. Finally, my father spoke: "You made a huge mistake and there's no going back." My parents were very simple people. My father was a tall, strong man, and my mother was an older version of me, but both had great character and solid principles they always made sure to pass on to me. Hearing my father emphasize that I had messed up made my heart ache even more. I started crying and said: "I know, Dad, I was irresponsible. But there's nothing I can do now. I'll drop out of college to raise my child. And I'm going to pack my bags..." "Pack your bags? You're very mistaken if you think you're leaving this house like that. You made a mistake, and you disappointed us, but we love you, we'll get through this and we'll help you. You're not alone, my daughter! And neither is this child!" My father said this and my heart filled with hope. "But Dad, I brought shame to you..." "You're not the first and won't be the last single mother in this world. We would have liked things to be different for you, not so difficult. You've always been so responsible! But if this is how it is, we'll face it together. You won't leave college - more than ever, you need to grow in life to take care of your child. You're going to be a single mother, your responsibility is huge. We'll help you, and even though it will be difficult, everything will work out." Melissa was already crying and quickly spoke to my parents: "Mr. Anthony, Mrs. Selina, you can count on me, I'll help with everything! Besides, I'm this baby's godmother, Cat is like a sister to me, and I'll always be around." My parents looked at her gratefully. I looked at those three feeling completely blessed to have them in my life, full of love for them and experiencing a totally new feeling for that little being still growing inside me, whose existence I had just discovered! As difficult as being a single mother would be, that night at the ball was the best night of my life. I could never forget those violet-blue eyes looking at me with adoration during our furtive encounter and everything my body experienced that night. I would always have that sweet memory with me. The following months were difficult. I kept the dress, shoes, mask, and perfume that Mel's mother gave me in a box. On difficult days, I would open that box and relive that night in my memory. Although I had a peaceful pregnancy, people's comments and cruelty were hard to bear. To make matters worse, after they got married, my ex and my cousin moved in with her parents, who lived on the same street as us. They made sure to humiliate me with nasty comments whenever they saw me and spread throughout the neighborhood that I didn't know who my child's father was and that I was a loose woman, which was why Claude had left me. I wanted to end them! Kelly's mother, who was my mother's sister, never missed a chance to come to our house and torment us, saying how fortunate it was that her daughter wasn't like me, that she was a good girl who had married a decent man. She seemed to have forgotten that she had stolen my boyfriend and slept with him in my bed. But I swallowed it all; it wasn't worth arguing with these people, and I didn't want to transmit negative feelings to my child. As the days went by, I loved that baby more and more. I had no idea such love could exist. Everything I did, I did for him. I would protect him from everything; I would give my life to him. And surprisingly, during the whole time of carrying with a baby, everything seemed to flow in my favor, things were falling into place and working out. My boss was great, understood my situation, and even gave me a small raise, which was a huge help! Mel and Fred showered me with attention, they were in love with their godchild even before knowing if it would be a girl or boy. They insisted on buying everything for the nursery, which turned out beautiful. Mel accompanied me to all appointments and every test, never missing anything. She even organized two baby showers - one at the company and another at college. My child would come into the world surrounded by love. I found out I was having a boy and decided to name him Peter. And so it was. Peter was born healthy, with a pair of huge violet-blue eyes that would never let me forget the night that changed my life, but was also the best night I'd ever had! I would never forget that man! My son was surrounded by love from the first moment. My parents were enchanted by their grandson. Mel and Fred came to our house every day to see their godson and check how we were doing. Mel was always there supporting me in everything. Her parents also came to visit Peter and said they would be honorary grandparents since they considered me their daughter too, which I found beautiful. They also surrounded me with care. They insisted on giving the stroller as a gift, and the day Peter was born, they came to the maternity ward with a huge basket of flowers and welcome balloons. After my maternity leave ended, my son stayed in my mother's care while I was at work and college. I worked hard and devoted all my time not spent at college or work to my son. With the help of my parents and my son's godparents, I managed everything and didn't miss any semester in college, graduating alongside my friend Melissa. It was a great moment for me and my family. With my diploma in hand, I would now pursue a better future, with the firm purpose that my son would never lack anything. Chapter 4 When I graduated, Peter was already two years old. By then, he was walking everywhere, always clinging to grandma - which was his first word. He was a beautiful boy with straight black hair, fair skin, a cute little upturned nose, and those huge violet eyes that made me sigh. He was my sunshine! And now I would have more time for him. After graduation, my boss called me in for a chat. He was an excellent boss and said he was very happy with my work at the company, but he knew I deserved to go far, so I should look for a job in my field, and he would understand. He assured me that my job at the construction company would be mine for as long as I wanted, and if I left and things didn't work out, I would always have a place to come back to. However, he advised that I should seek something in my field of study to provide a better future for my son. I was very touched by this and accepted his good advice. I told Melissa, and she immediately said she would talk to her father about reaching out to some contacts. It didn't take long before Mr. Oliver Larson, Mel's father, called me to his office and handed me a card, saying: "Catherine, I know you're an excellent girl and a good professional. I spoke with a friend, and he arranged an interview for you at Miller Group. It's for the position of CEO's assistant. If you get this job, you'll be working in your field at a global company. It's an excellent position, but it's not here in Bellwood. You would have to move to Paradise Port. I know it's a huge step, but I think you should consider it - it will be excellent for you. Anyway, send an email to the address on the card with your response, either declining the position or accepting the virtual interview." "Mr. Larson, I don't have words to thank you! You've always been so good to me! Miller Group is one of the largest business conglomerates in the country! Working there is a dream! I'll definitely accept the interview, and if I have to move, I will. I know it will be a great opportunity," I said with conviction. It wouldn't be bad to get away from those nasty family members, especially now that "queen" Kelly was conceived and her mother decided to ask for all of Peter's things for the child of that dishonest couple! Thankfully, my mom told her that was absurd, but it wouldn't matter anyway since I had already given everything Peter had outgrown to an acquaintance who was conceived. My mom had been very upset with her sister, as she was always dismissing my son, always referring to him as the fatherless boy, which really hurt my mom. Leaving this city, I'll only regret leaving my parents and friends behind, but I know they'll support me once again. I thanked Mr. Larson and left the office. When I got to my desk, I spoke with my boss, another Mr. Larson, but since he didn't like being called that, I addressed him by his first name: "Aldo, your brother got me an interview at Miller Group." He smiled: "I know, he just called me. I think you should grab this opportunity. If it doesn't work out, you can always come back." I smiled at him and immediately sent an email to schedule the interview. I quickly received confirmation that the interview would be the next day at ten in the morning, and since I had already taken the initiative to send my resume, the interview would be brief. That night at home, I talked to my parents, who understood, even though they were worried about how I would manage to raise a child alone in another city and got teary-eyed about being far from their grandson. They supported me as always and were happy about the opportunity I received. I asked them not to tell anyone. When Mel arrived - she came every day to see her godson - I told her everything, and she helped me prepare for the next day. At the time of the interview, I went to the meeting room at my workplace; my boss had given me permission. I sat down and waited for the call. I was interviewed by a very kind and intelligent woman, Mrs. Mariana Taylor. It was very pleasant; we talked for two hours. She gave me all the information about the position, salary, and benefits. At the end, she said: "Catherine, you're hired! You'll be replacing me since I'm taking a director position at the London branch, so you'll be taking over my position here. I'd like you to start as soon as possible because I'm leaving in ten days and would like to hand everything over to you before I go. And I'd rather not reschedule my departure. When can you start?" "I just need my boss to release me, but I think I can be there on Monday." - it was already Friday, would Aldo agree to release me today? "Perfect. You can send me an email confirmation after you talk to him. Do you have any questions?" "No, ma'am. Everything is clear." "Great! Welcome to Miller Group. I'm sure you'll do very well. I'll see you on Monday." She ended the call, and my heart was racing - I had done it. The job was great, the salary even better, and I would have chances to progress. It was a dream. But now it was time to rush and sort everything out. I immediately went to talk to my boss. He was happy about it, called accounting, and had them process my settlement right away. After that, he let me go, saying I would always have a place to come back if needed, but he knew I would do very well. I thanked him for everything and left. I sent the confirmation email to Mrs. Taylor, saying I would be at the company at eight on Monday morning, and went straight to talk to Mel and her father - I had to thank them. And that's when Mel surprised me: "Did you think you were going to take my godson away just like that? No way! My father got me an interview at Lynx World in Paradise Port. I'm moving with you, and we'll live together. What do you think?" This was perfect! I was overjoyed, but quickly asked: "Mel, what about Fred?" "Fred has already requested a transfer to the Paradise Port branch at his company; he'll have better opportunities there too. He's coming in fifteen days. Friend, it's a new life for all three of us." I was so happy. Mel had orchestrated everything. Fred would drive us there, and she would take care of Peter while I worked until we found a daycare. She already had three daycares to visit, and her father had already made available a furnished apartment in the city for us. It was too good to be true; I was even scared. Noticing this, Mel nudged me and said: "Learn to accept the good things life offers you!" I smiled at her, and we went to my parents' house. It was time to break the news and say goodbye. Paradise Port is on the other side of the country, so we wouldn't see each other for a while. My parents were happy until I said I would leave the next morning - then the farewell became sad. It was hard to leave them behind, but it was necessary. With the salary I would receive, I could help them now. That was good. The next morning, Fred and Mel arrived right on time. Mel's father had given her a pickup truck as a gift, which made moving our stuff much easier. Fred loaded everything into the truck, and off we went - it would be a full day on the road. We arrived in Paradise Port late Saturday night. Peter was exhausted but had enjoyed himself immensely during the trip - everything was new and exciting to him. We got settled in, ordered some food, and after eating, went to bed. On Sunday, we explored the city to get our bearings. Paradise Port was a huge, modern industrial city on the coast. Its port attracted lots of business, making it a first-world urban center. The apartment where we would be living was close to one of the daycares Mel had contacted, which was great. It wasn't far from the company either - I could get there in twenty minutes by subway. The apartment was beautiful, with a modern design, great ventilation, and huge windows that let in plenty of natural light. That evening, we dropped Fred off at the airport and headed home to rest. The next day would be a big one - I would be starting my new job, while Mel had her virtual interview and would schedule a meeting with the director of the daycare near our apartment to visit and talk. I tucked my son into bed; he was worn out from all the fun he'd had today. As I watched him sleeping peacefully, I felt confident that we would have a really good life here. Peter now had his own room, and Mel and I had planned to buy some things to make it feel more personal and give it our own touch. I grabbed the baby monitor and went to my room. I opened one of my boxes and started organizing everything. When I opened the last box, I took out the box containing my memories from the ball night. I opened it, ran my hand over that beautiful dress, and sighed once again. I picked up the perfume and thought, "Why not?" Starting tomorrow, I would wear this perfume every day - my salary was good, and when this bottle ran out, I could buy another. I put the box away, left the perfume on the dresser, and went to bed full of expectations for this new life that was opening up before me. Chapter 5 I showed up at the company at 8:00 a.m. Mrs. Taylor gave me a warm welcome and introduced me to everyone, and they were all very kind. The boss wasn't there - he was traveling and would return at the end of the week. The office was beautiful, very modern, decorated in white with stainless steel and green accents, managing to be both professional and welcoming. It was elegant, and I really liked it. I was particularly glad I had chosen to wear a black suit with a dark green silk blouse underneath and black heels. I would need to dress elegantly every day now, after all, I would be working directly with the company president. Mid-morning, I received a message from Mel saying she had managed to schedule an appointment with the director of the daycare near our apartment during lunch hour. I explained the situation to Mrs. Taylor and asked if it would be possible to leave during that time, assuring her I would be back on schedule. "So you have a child. How old is he?" she asked with a smile. "He's two years old. He's a very clever little boy. He wasn't planned, but he's the reason for my life!" "What's his name?" "Peter." "Peter. A strong name. You're not married, I know that, but what about your son's father, are you still together?" My heart sank - how could I explain to her that I didn't know who the father was? But I don't lie, so let's face the truth. I told her that Peter's father was someone I met at a party and never saw again. She looked at me seriously, but there was no judgment in her eyes. Then she said: "You have my respect, Catherine. It's not easy being a single mother, and it's very difficult to tell truths like this when you know they might trigger others' judgment. Thank you for your trust and honesty. Go take care of the daycare arrangements for your son, we'll continue this afternoon - no need to rush." I thanked her and said goodbye, heading off to meet Mel and Peter. My admiration and respect for Mrs. Taylor only grew. She's a woman in her mid-fifties, with very light blonde hair and almost transparent blue eyes. She's a beautiful and elegant woman, but most importantly, she's very welcoming. We got along very well. During the rest of the morning, she filled me in with information about the work, and I took notes on everything. At lunchtime, I left the building, and Mel was already waiting at the door with Peter. I got in the car, and we went to lunch before heading to the daycare. Mel and I loved the daycare, and Peter was already fitting in, running around with his new little friends - he's such an outgoing boy. That made me so happy! My son was happy! We decided not to look at other daycares since this one was excellent and very close to home, just three blocks away. We completed the enrollment and sorted out all the details. The director suggested we let Peter stay until the end of the day since he was having fun and could start adapting. Mel agreed to pick him up at the end of the day. Mel dropped me back at the company and told me she'd head home to prepare for her job interview later in the afternoon. I returned to my office, arriving before Mrs. Taylor. I sat at the desk and started reviewing everything she had already told me. The phone on the desk rang, and I wasn't sure what to do, but since this would be my desk, I answered in my most professional voice: "Miller Group, Executive Office, good afternoon, how may I help you?" I heard a deathly silence on the other end followed by a long sigh. Someone spoke up with obvious impatience, in a strong and slightly hoarse voice: "Put Mariana on." I was startled but kept my composure and replied: "I'm sorry, sir, but Mrs. Taylor hasn't returned from lunch yet. May I help you, or would you like to leave a message?" "Who is this speaking," he asked, even more impatiently. "My name is Catherine, I'm Mr. Miller's new executive assistant." "But I don't know you," he seemed to grow more impatient with each word. "It's my first day here, sir. Would you like to leave a message?" "Tell Mariana to call me as soon as she sets foot in the office." "Certainly, sir. And your name is?" "Looks like I'm your boss!" He snapped and hung up. Wow, what a stressed-out man! This wasn't in the job description. My throat immediately tightened. Had I already made a bad impression on my boss? I was so screwed! I started thinking I wouldn't last long in this job. Shortly after, Mrs. Taylor arrived and I passed on the message with a worried look on my face. She looked at me with a smile, as if understanding my concern, and asked: "Was he calm?" I looked at her and couldn't help myself: "He was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I'm pretty sure I could see his jugular vein popping out of his neck." She burst out laughing and then said: "You two are going to get along great! You'll tame the beast, I'm sure of it." I wasn't so sure about that. Maybe I shouldn't even unpack my bags, this man was going to eat me alive!	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17966&u	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	373	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more		redtgb.com	VIDEO		https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17966&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/t39.35426-6/475795391_1595111824458959_6759591904481499116_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=T5GOxPQ1INsQ7kNvgH0gUCZ&_nc_oc=Adg7JAyEgEUZ-5XW3MQ512QbIFtXyrLhZAS0PdOH-TC8wymxW5gDgg22pMwilHj_UaE&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ApHNEA94I8WMDqUMcBYrUob&oh=00_AYCWj4sO11jM4E633g3tvmcs5nlkjsE3x0mapIwPNaWnSQ&oe=67C2D86A	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
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2,689,382	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2689381}'	Yes	2025-02-24 19:00	active	2623	Click Here to Nominate👉	Your school could WIN! 🎉 👉 Nominate your school at Saintlyheartco.com! We are celebrating Catholic education in our schools and parishes! Click 👉 Learn More below and fill out a brief form to nominate! Now through March 4 nominate your school or parish of choice to win $500+ collection of Saintly Heart faith-based educational toys! ⏳ Nominations end March 4th! Don’t miss this chance to make a difference in a child’s faith journey. 📢 Share this link: https://www.saintlyheartco.com/pages/share-the-love with your principal or religious ed leader and encourage families to nominate! We cannot wait to see who wins! The parish or school with the MOST online nominations will win!	LEARN_MORE	https://www.saintlyheartco.com/pages/share-the-lov	Saintly Heart	https://www.facebook.com/saintlyheartco/	1,228	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More		saintlyheartco.com	DCO	{{product.description}}	https://www.saintlyheartco.com/pages/share-the-love	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481772409_646976974378734_1323665416838604753_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=3ECK1ACWTjQQ7kNvgFxmvH-&_nc_oc=AdjCb08vRvjI8qbUqi14Z9tEhrm9ZyfMJgojy17C9tQBBaZg6NnKMk-I79EuC56MQ2MCaBPaWDvPTUmr9r0GdOPq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ApHEdgqYexeOvCATkAjdAl_&oh=00_AYAKpOJJZCA33oZbfrap3ET712X_QoyIq2zF9pU2hfhNsg&oe=67C2F213	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Saintly Heart	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,691,231	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2691228}'	Yes	2025-02-24 19:42	active	2625	😍Read the next chapters👉	After signing the agreement, Isabella Jones stepped out and happened to catch a live interview with Samuel Grant on the news. The host asked, "Mr. Grant, you're so young and accomplished. What's your secret to success?" Samuel raised his left hand and pointed to the wedding ring on his ring finger. "The secret is simple. I have a wonderful wife." The host blinked in surprise. "Oh? I thought you'd share some insights about the industry and your future plans instead." "That's not important. All the wealth I have right now doesn't compare to even a single strand of my wife's hair." "Wow, I really envy your wife…" On the screen, Samuel glanced at his watch, then smiled at the camera. "Sorry, we'll have to pause the interview for a moment. Time's almost up. I'd like to use this live broadcast to say something to my wife." "Of course, Mr. Grant. Go ahead." Samuel's voice softened. "Bella, I just had someone bring you some ginger tea with honey. It should be arriving soon. Drink it and get some good rest. I'll give you a massage when I get home." Around her, a few young women gathered, watching the live broadcast on the big screen. They couldn't help but murmur in envy. "Who is Mr. Grant's wife? To have a man like him so completely devoted…" "That's so sweet! He dotes on her so much! Ugh, I'm so jealous!" The sound of admiring voices filled Isabella's ears. Yet, the person in question remained silent, smiling mockingly. Everyone thought she was the lucky one, that in a past life, she must have saved the entire galaxy to have married a man like Samuel. She used to think so too. But no one knew that Samuel had another woman on the side. They had been married for five years, and for four and a half of them, Samuel had been seeing this other woman. Every time he said he was on a business trip, he was really with her, indulging in passion and unrestrained affection. Isabella still remembered the first time she had seen those videos. Her heart felt like it had been pierced a thousand times with needles—pulled out and stabbed again and again. By the end, it was shattered and broken beyond repair. She also remembered when she was bullied in school. Samuel had stepped in, shielding her from the torment and fiercely teaching the bullies a lesson. He had told her, "Don't be afraid. I'll protect you from now on." There was another time, when they were driving, and an out-of-control truck came barreling toward them. Samuel's first instinct was to throw himself in front of her, shielding her with his own body. He ended up in the hospital for over six months, barely surviving, almost becoming a vegetable. When he finally woke up, his first words were to ask the nurse, "Is Bella okay?" When the nurse confirmed she was fine, he let out a sigh of relief and said, "As long as Bella is fine, it doesn't matter what happens to me." That was the moment Isabella truly fell in love with him—the man who would risk his life to protect hers. She didn't understand it. How could Samuel claim to love her while shamelessly sleeping with another woman? Was it true that men could separate love from desire? Isabella gently touched the wedding ring on her finger before taking it off. She walked past a disabled beggar sitting by the roadside, his empty tin cup containing only a few coins. Isabella approached him and dropped the ring into his cup. "Sell this. The money from it will be enough to buy a house and start a small business." The beggar thanked her repeatedly. In truth, Isabella had put it rather mildly. The ring was a custom design by a foreign jeweler, and the diamonds alone were worth millions. But now, she didn't want it anymore. If a wedding ring symbolized love and loyalty, then her wedding ring was worth nothing right now. Her phone rang—it was Samuel. "Bella, where are you? The person with the ginger tea and honey came to the house, but you weren't there." His voice was urgent, like he was genuinely worried about her. Isabella replied flatly, "I just stepped out for a walk." "Where are you now? I'll come pick you up right away." "No need, I'll be home soon." "No, you're on your period. I can't just leave you alone." Samuel arrived within five minutes. He rushed out of the car, quickly removed his coat, and draped it over her shoulders before pulling her into his arms. "Why are you dressed so lightly? You can't get cold when you're on your period." As Isabella looked up at him in his embrace, she noticed several fresh, red marks around his throat. They were recent. There were also teeth imprints. His clothes smelled faintly of a woman's perfume. So, he had just left Jennifer Lewis's bed before heading to the interview. As Samuel gently rubbed her fingers, he suddenly exclaimed in surprise, "Bella, where's your wedding ring?" Chapter 2 Isabella pulled her hand out of Samuel's grasp. "Maybe I lost it when I left the house this morning." Samuel immediately reached for his phone to dial a number. "I'll have someone go look for it right now." Isabella shook her head. "No need. Just consider it lost." "How can you just let it go? This ring is our wedding ring—it's proof of our love." Proof of their love? Their love had already been shattered beyond recognition by his countless betrayals. Isabella laughed softly. "It's just a piece of jewelry. It doesn't guarantee love." Samuel insisted, "Diamonds are the hardest thing on Earth. It represents my unchanging heart for you." "And what if one day, you betray me?" "That's impossible." "I'm asking, what if?" Samuel looked at her, his gaze sincere, even solemn. He swore, "If I ever betray you, let me be pierced by a thousand arrows and die a painful death." Isabella turned her face away, not wanting to see the fake earnesty in his eyes. Back when she still loved him, hearing him make such an earnest vow would've made her rush to cover his mouth, worried that she was pushing him too far, forcing him to swear like that. But now, she didn't love him anymore, and his words only sounded like a joke. "Bella." Samuel wrapped his arms around her from behind, his voice tinged with a hint of complaint. "Why do I feel like something's off lately? You've been so distant." "I haven't." "You have," he insisted. "Bella, is it because I've been too busy and haven't had time for you? Are you upset with me?" "I told you, I'm not," she said. "Let go of me." "I won't," he said, pulling her closer. "Next week is our fifth wedding anniversary, Bella. I've prepared a surprise for you..." Just then, his phone rang. Samuel immediately released her and pulled out his phone, glancing at the screen. From Isabella's point of view, she saw him smirk, a mischievous glint in his eyes, as his gaze on the screen turned suddenly suggestive. He quickly typed a reply. Then, he looked at her with a slight apology and said, "Bella, there's an urgent matter at the company. I need to head out right now." There was still a flicker of hope inside Isabella. "When will you be back?" Samuel wrapped an arm around her, kissing her gently on the forehead. "I might not be back tonight. But tomorrow morning, I'll bring you your favorite pastries, okay?" Just like that, he was gone. His tablet was still on the couch in the living room. Isabella picked it up, noticing that his WhatsApp was still logged in. Two minutes ago, a woman under the name "Little Tease" had sent him a picture. The woman was dressed in a bunny girl outfit—black fishnet stockings and bright red high heels. Her eyes were half-lidded, her cheeks flushed, and she was licking her fingers seductively. Samuel: Want more? Little Tease: It's so lonely and empty when you're not here, Master. Samuel: I gave you love seven times today. Isn't that enough? Little Tease: Are you coming over, Master? I'm yours tonight, do whatever you want… Samuel's reply was short. Samuel: I'm coming. Isabella turned the tablet off, her heart sinking as she closed her eyes in pain. She thought she had stopped caring, but seeing those messages again felt like a brutal punch to the gut. Tears rolled down her cheeks, hot and relentless. She didn't know when she fell asleep, but all she could remember was dreaming of a man and a woman rolling in the sheets together. The man's face was Samuel's. Just then, her phone vibrated. She opened it to find a video. The scene in the video mirrored the one in her dream perfectly. The man and woman were passionately tangled together, even more intensely than in her dream. Samuel's face was twisted in lust, and she felt nothing but disgust. Jennifer: Have you ever seen him like this? He says he can only let himself go like this with me. The short, one-minute video quickly ended. And then, it looped. Again, and again. Isabella watched it like it was some kind of self-inflicted punishment, over and over again. She needed to make herself see Samuel for what he was right now, to strip away the last shred of love she had for him, and finally drive him out of her heart. Her lawyer had already drafted the divorce papers. She wiped away her tears, then carefully placed the divorce papers into a delicate gift box and tied a ribbon around it. Samuel didn't return until the next afternoon, carrying a box of pastries. "Sweetheart, I promised to bring you these—your favorite pastries. Aren't you happy?" Isabella gave him a distracted hum. Noticing the redness around her eyes, Samuel gently cupped her face, kissing away the tears. "Why are you crying? Who upset my precious wife? Tell me, and I'll make sure they pay for it." He still carried that sickly-sweet scent of someone who had just indulged in an affair, mixed with the faint traces of another woman's perfume. It made her stomach churn. Isabella pushed his hand away, creating some space between them. "No one," she replied flatly. "I just watched a really touching movie last night." Samuel pulled her into his arms, his voice full of concern. "Don't watch them alone anymore. Let me watch them with you next time." Watch with her? He was too busy giving all his time to Jennifer. Isabella suddenly wanted to ask him if he even had time to spend with her anymore. Samuel pointed to the delicate gift box on the coffee table, his face lighting up with surprise. "Bella, is this for me?" Isabella nodded. "You said you had a surprise for me for our fifth wedding anniversary, right? Well, I have a surprise for you, too." Samuel looked thrilled, holding the gift box like it was the most precious thing. "Can I open it now?" Isabella said. "Our anniversary is a week from now. You can open it then." Chapter 3 Samuel thought for a moment, then nodded with a patient smile. "Okay, let's open our surprises together. It'll be more meaningful that way." Isabella suddenly had the urge to see Samuel's reaction when he found out she had passed away and when he saw the divorce papers after. Would he be shocked, confused, or... surprised? Samuel, ever the charmer, tried to cheer her up. "I heard there's a good movie out. How about I take you to see it?" Isabella wasn't interested, but the theater he mentioned was right next to their old high school. It was the place where he had confessed his love to her for the first time. Back in their school days, they spent countless romantic, sweet moments on the street behind the school. It was a place that witnessed the happiest days of their love. Since that was where it all began, it might as well be where it ended. When they arrived at the theater, it was a little crowded. Samuel wrapped his arm around her protectively, pulling her close to shield her from the pressing crowd. Among the crowd, a few young women recognized them. "Hey, isn't that Mr. Grant? The woman he's holding is his wife, right? She's so beautiful!" "How does someone like Mr. Grant even exist? He's so handsome and devoted." "They're such a perfect match. They really do look amazing together." Samuel continued to protectively lead her to their seats. Then, he carefully helped her out of her jacket and held it for her. The theater manager, Isaac Smith, approached them with a wide grin, carrying a hand warmer and a cup of ginger tea with honey. "Mr. Grant, we heard that Mrs. Grant is going through a special time right now. We've prepared these just as you asked. Please let us know if you need anything else." Samuel took the items from him. He placed the hand warmer on her belly, and then handed her the tea. "The temperature's just right. Would you like a sip, Bella?" Isabella mechanically accepted his care, remaining silent the entire time. Samuel frowned slightly, then turned to Isaac. "Go and get some snacks, but nothing too greasy, spicy, or sweet. Bella doesn't like those." "Of course, Mr. Grant, I'll be right back." Isaac hurried off. The movie's opening credits began on the big screen. Just then, a woman approached Isabella's side and quietly said, "Excuse me, my seat is inside. Could you please let me through?" The lights in the theater had already dimmed, and Isabella didn't immediately realize what was happening. She quickly moved aside, letting the woman pass. It wasn't until the woman walked past her and then Samuel, finally settling in the seat next to him, that Isabella understood. She suddenly realized that the voice she had just heard was so familiar—it was the same voice from the video. The woman was Jennifer, the same girl who had been tangled up with Samuel in the video. At the next moment, the cup in Jennifer's hand tilted. The entire drink spilled across Samuel's stomach. "Oh, sorry... I'm so sorry!" Jennifer apologized, fumbling for a napkin from her bag to help him wipe it off. The dampness was on his stomach, but her hands kept sliding down, pressing in places that made Isabella's stomach churn. At the same time, Isabella could clearly feel the arm around her shoulders suddenly tighten. Along with that, his whole body tensed up. Out of the corner of her eye, Isabella glanced at Samuel's lower part. Jennifer's hand was underneath, with Samuel's hand firmly pressing down on hers, his gaze seeming to warn her not to cause trouble. But Jennifer continued to act as though nothing was wrong. She continued smiling and wiping. "Sir, how about I just buy you a new pair of pants?" "No need," Samuel's voice had turned rough and strained. The movie started. It was an animated film—the animals were cute, and the plot was funny. But Isabella couldn't focus on it at all. Ten minutes into the movie, Samuel suddenly stood up. "Bella, Isaac doesn't know what snacks you like. I'll go check." He still held her coat in his hand, draped over his forearm, covering the obvious state on the lower half of his body. As he walked away, Jennifer stood up as well and followed him. When she passed by Isabella, she flashed a disdainful smirk and shot her a quick glance. The look seemed to say: See? He chose me. Five minutes later, Isabella received a text: [Women's restroom.] She quickly left the theater and headed to the restroom at the end of the hallway. From the first stall in the women's restroom, she could hear muffled groans and faint pleas—no doubt Jennifer's voice. And the man's voice... Isabella knew it all too well. She stood frozen, rooted to the spot, unable to move. The noise from the stall grew louder, and the woman let out a sharp cry. Then, Samuel's mocking voice came, "Is that all you can handle? You chased after me to the theater, and this is how you perform?" Jennifer whimpered, and it was hard to tell if she was crying or laughing. "I miss you... I just can't stand seeing you with her." Samuel's tone cooled slightly. "I can give you everything else, but our affair can't be dragged in front of Bella. You've crossed the line tonight." "Okay, I get it. But don't you think it's exciting to be in a dark theater like this? It's a thrill." He chuckled softly. "It is a bit." "Then… should we continue tonight?" His voice was hoarse and strained. "I'll buy tickets in a bit for the midnight show." "Make sure it's the last row, okay? That way we won't have to hide in the bathroom... We can just be in our seats…" Not far off, Isaac hurried over. But he wasn't holding snacks—he had a small square box in his hands. He quietly called out near the women's restroom door, "Mr. Grant, I've bought the thing you asked for." The noise inside finally quieted for a moment, and Samuel appeared at the door. Isabella quickly stepped behind a pillar, her heart racing. Samuel chuckled lightly. "That was fast." "Of course, the movie's short—only three hours. Can't waste a moment of your special time," Isaac replied. Samuel sounded pleased. "Take good care of Bella. Don't let her notice anything unusual, understood?" "You can count on me, Mr. Grant. Mrs. Grant is so innocent. Women like her are easy to please—she'll believe anything you tell her." Isabella fled as if running for her life. Back in her seat, she let herself cry for a few minutes. But then, she forced herself to stop. This was the last time. This was the last time she would cry for Samuel. But it wasn't really for him. It was for the pure-hearted boy in her memories, the one who had only eyes for her. The man with her now was nothing like that boy anymore. And since he wasn't, she wouldn't hold onto him anymore. Chapter 4 Samuel didn't return until the movie was almost over. He still smelled of that sickly-sweet, pungent scent. In addition to that, he brought a box of popcorn. "Bella, I'm sorry I'm late. The popcorn machine broke down at the theater, and they spent forever fixing it. It's freshly made, though. Eat it while it's warm." Isabella waved her hand. "I don't want any." "Not even the ginger tea with honey?" "I don't want it." "Alright, no food, no drink, then. Let's just watch the movie." Isabella scoffed. "The movie's almost over." "It's all that technician's fault. He took so long to fix the machine." "So, for the last three hours, you've just been waiting for him to fix it?" Samuel nodded earnestly. "Yes. Isaac can vouch for me. If you don't believe me, you can ask him." "No need," Isabella said, grabbing her bag and walking away. Samuel hurried after her, holding her coat and the popcorn. "Bella, just tell me what I did wrong. I'll change, okay? Don't ignore me. I'm scared." "Scared of what?" "Scared that you don't love me anymore." Isabella stopped and turned to face him, looking straight into his eyes. It was he who had betrayed their relationship first. It was he who said one thing and did another. It was he who stopped cherishing her. Since that was the case, she decided to take back everything—her heart, her trust, her love… And her body. She had given a piece of her clothing to Fauxlife Solutions, the agency that was faking her death. She had torn it up, then bit her finger and smeared the blood on it. A week later, he would receive that bloody shirt. And she? She would be gone from his life forever. "Bella, why aren't you saying anything?" Isabella exhaled deeply, her voice flat. "It's just my period. I'm a little tired." "Let me take you home to rest." "Okay." On the way home, Samuel kept trying to talk to her, telling her jokes. But Isabella only responded with, "I'm a bit tired. I want to rest." With that, Samuel fell silent. When they arrived home, he walked her to the bedroom. Isabella asked, "Are you still going to the office tonight to handle work?" Samuel hummed in acknowledgment. "There are a few things left to do. I didn't finish them yesterday, so I'll need to work late tonight." "Then you should go." Isabella turned her back to him as she lay down, sending a silent signal for him to leave. Samuel stood still, not moving. He seemed to sense that something was off, but couldn't quite figure out what was wrong. Isabella suddenly had the urge to play a little prank. She turned to him and said, "Can you not go tonight?" Samuel visibly relaxed. She still depended on him, still acted a little spoiled, and still wanted him close. That meant she hadn't discovered anything. He smiled gently. "Sweetheart, I've already made plans. The executives are all waiting for me. But next week—next week, I'll make time to spend with you, okay?" "Next week?" "Yeah. Isn't next weekend our five-year anniversary? I'm planning a grand ceremony to let everyone in Herswick City know that you're the woman I love most in this life." A grand ceremony? Isabella smiled. That made it all the more exciting. "Alright, then. Go ahead." "You're such a good girl, Bella. I'm leaving, then. It's about time for the meeting, and I can't keep them waiting." Was he in a rush to not keep "them" waiting, or to not keep "her" waiting? Samuel hurried out. The tablet on the couch began vibrating again. They were in touch once more. Samuel: Are you ready? Jennifer sent a picture. This time, she was in a nurse's uniform. Of course, not the proper kind—what should be exposed was, and what shouldn't was also exposed. Samuel: I'll make sure you scream tonight. Isabella turned off the tablet and began gathering her things. Her clothes, her purse, her shoes—everything Samuel had ever given her over the years. Then, she went into the closet and continued pulling things out. Her hand paused for a moment when she touched a metal box. Inside the box were the letters Samuel had written to her—there was a thick stack of them. When they first got together, he wrote, [From today, Bella is my one true love.] On his birthday, he wrote, [My birthday wish is to spend a lifetime loving Bella and growing old together.] For Isabella's 20th birthday, he wrote, [My darling Bella is of legal age now, I can't wait to marry you.] On their wedding day, he wrote, [To the most beautiful and lovable Princess Bella, welcome to my world.] Isabella didn't care to look at the rest. She took all the letters outside and burned them, letting the fire consume them completely. The next morning, she was woken by the sound of Samuel entering the room. He sounded angry. "Bella, our wedding ring was stolen by a beggar, and he sold it at a pawn shop!" Isabella felt a pang of disappointment. How did he find it? "And he sold it for only 10,000! It's such an insult to our ring!" He came over, took her hand, and tried to put the ring back on her finger. "Now, let's return it to its rightful owner…" Isabella pulled her hand back, refusing to wear the ring again. Samuel seemed confused. "Bella, what's wrong?" "It's nothing, I just... I've gained a bit of weight recently, and the ring doesn't fit anymore." Samuel laughed. "That's okay. I'll take it to the jeweler to resize it for you." "Whatever," Isabella replied, then asked, "You didn't do anything to that beggar, did you?" Samuel came closer and hugged her. "Don't worry. I know how kind-hearted you are, Bella. You wouldn't want to see the beggar suffer. I didn't hold him accountable." "Maybe we should give him some more money. He's pitiful." "Alright, I'll give him another 10,000 later." Just then, Isabella's phone rang, and she answered it. "Hello, Ms. Jones, this is Fauxlife Solutions. We've completed the new identification documents as per your request. Are you available to pick them up?" "Sure, send me the address." "I'll send the location to your phone shortly." "By the way, will the new documents allow me to purchase flight tickets?" "Don't worry, they will be fully valid for that." "Okay, thank you." After Isabella hung up the call, Samuel suddenly seemed anxious and wrapped his arms around her. "Bella, what's this about new documents? Flight tickets? Are you leaving? Where are you going?" Chapter 5 Being held by Samuel used to feel like happiness. But now, Isabella only felt discomfort. She broke free from his embrace and stepped away from him, putting a few paces between them. Samuel seemed even more panicked and rushed after her. "Bella, do you want to go on a trip? Next week, I promise I'll clear my schedule and spend all my time with you. Don't be mad. Don't leave me, okay?" Isabella only felt a cold emptiness inside. The man who was begging her not to leave, pleading like this—was he the real Samuel? Or was it the man she had seen on the video, tangled up with Jennifer? Isabella couldn't tell anymore. But it didn't matter. Soon, she would leave him forever. Whether she knew which version of him was real, it wouldn't make any difference. She spoke flatly, "You're overthinking. Didn't you say we're having a ceremony for our anniversary?" Samuel still didn't believe it and continued to pester her. "But what about the new documents you mentioned? What documents did you get? You even asked about flight tickets." "It's for a classmate of mine. She lost her documents and couldn't buy a ticket. She needs to get new ones." "Which classmate?" "…You don't know her." "I know all your classmates." Isabella changed the subject. "Enough about me. What about you? Did you finish everything at work last night?" "Almost." Before he could finish, his phone rang again. Isabella was already used to Jennifer calling him and dragging him away. No matter what, Samuel was going to leave. So, she walked away and sat on the couch to wait. She heard Samuel's quiet reprimand. "I've told you already, don't call me when I'm at home!" On the other end of the phone, she could hear a woman crying softly. Then, Samuel sneaked a peak at Isabella guiltily. "…Fine. I'll come over now." After hanging up, Samuel hesitated before speaking again. "Bella, there's a small issue at the company that is leftover from last night... I have to take care of it." Isabella nodded immediately. "Go ahead. Work's been busy lately. I understand." Samuel hurriedly left once again. Isabella held her phone. She was waiting to see what shocking video Jennifer would send her next. As expected, Jennifer's message came quickly. This time, it was a photo—a hospital checkup form. [Jennifer Lewis, four weeks pregnant, threatened miscarriage] Jennifer: Last night at the theater was too much fun, and the baby's showing signs of miscarriage. The hospital says the baby's father needs to be there to sign the forms. Sorry, Mrs. Grant, but your husband belongs to me again today! Jennifer was pregnant?! Isabella held the phone tightly, staring at the pregnancy test results. She couldn't snap out of it. Jennifer: I forgot to tell you, for the next week, he'll still be mine. He promised to go to Hawaii with me to celebrate our little baby. Jennifer: He's leaving the room to give you a call. Be prepared, Mrs. Grant. The way she said "Mrs. Grant" was filled with a hint of provocation. Almost immediately, Isabella's phone rang. The screen displayed the word [Honey]. She took a deep breath and answered. "Bella, I'm sorry. Something came up at work, and I need to go on a business trip-" Before he could finish, Isabella interrupted him directly. "Go ahead." Samuel continued apologizing, "Bella, don't worry. I'll be back for our anniversary. And the wedding ring—the symbol of our love—I'll put it back on you during the ceremony." "Samuel, do you love me?" "Of course! You're the only woman I've ever loved in this life." Isabella replied, "If one day, you betray our love, I will leave you. Forever." Samuel laughed like he had just heard a joke. He chuckled and said, "I won't ever give you that chance." "I'm serious. I'm not joking. If I ever find out, you'll never find me again." "As long as you're Isabella Jones, it doesn't matter where you go. Even if you run to the end of the world, I'll always find you." "Really? What if I'm not Isabella Jones anymore?" Samuel's smile widened, and his voice was lazy and indulgent. "How could you not be Isabella? Alright, Bella, don't overthink things. I'll only ever love you. One week from now, I'll be back to spend time with you." Ten minutes later, the staff from Fauxlife Solutions sent her an address. When Isabella arrived, the staff handed her a stack of documents. "Ms. Jones, from today on, this is your new identity." She flipped through the papers. Her new name was Elysia Farrow. Elysia was a beautiful name associated with "parting"—she was about to leave Samuel forever. She had chosen this name for herself. From now on, there would be no more Isabella Jones. There would only be Elysia Farrow. "Ms. Jones… I mean, Ms. Farrow, we've also booked your ticket. It's for next Saturday at 10 a.m. to Frosthaven." Isabella gathered the documents and nodded, thanking the staff. "Thank you. I'll transfer the full commission to your company's account later." "Ms. Farrow, you still have a week to reconsider. If you change your mind, we won't charge you any fees." "No," Isabella stood up, her tone firm. "I won't change my mind." Chapter 6 In the following days, messages from Samuel and Jennifer kept coming in. Three days before their anniversary, Isabella checked her messages. Jennifer: The sea breeze in Hawaii is so nice! The seafood is delicious too, but he says I can't eat seafood because I'm pregnant. So, he ran really far to buy me Eastern food! Attached was a picture of a Hawaiian beach scene. There was the sand and a coconut grove. Not far away, Samuel was opening a take-out box. Samuel: There are so few choices of Eastern food here. I had to travel far to find some. Bella, what did you eat today? Isabella had spent the day with her close friends. They had a barbeque and had a great time. After all, she was about to change her identity and leave. It would be hard to see them again, so she wanted to cherish this last time. Two days before their anniversary, Isabella's phone vibrated with incoming messages. Jennifer: The baby is only a month old, and he's already studying early childhood education. He's going to be such a great first-time dad! The attached photo was of Samuel's desk, stacked high with books. Isabella skimmed the titles—Baby Prenatal Education Guide, The Wisdom of Early Education, and so on. Samuel: Bella, I spent the whole day reading books. I've learned a lot. What about you? What did you do today? Isabella had gone to the bank. She exchanged all the funds from her account into foreign currency, withdrew cash, and closed all the bank cards under the name "Isabella Jones". One day before their anniversary, Isabella glanced at her phone. Jennifer: He's so sweet and caring. He doesn't want anyone else to touch my clothes while I'm pregnant, so he's washing them himself. Look! The attached photo was of Samuel, busy in the laundry room. Samuel: I didn't realize how exhausting laundry is. I think I'll leave it to the maid from now on. I don't want my darling wife working so hard. Isabella laughed. For five years of marriage, she had washed all of his clothes by hand. And now, he was washing clothes for another woman. How ironic. Just then, the charity organization arrived. Isabella carefully cleaned and packed her old clothes, handing them all over to the charity. When she came back and saw the house nearly empty, she felt a sense of lightness she had never experienced before. It turned out that the end of love was just a moment's decision. Once she stopped loving him, she could be so carefree. - The night before their anniversary, Isabella went to the mountaintop alone. She just looked up at the vast night sky, dotted with stars, the crescent moon hanging low. It was beautiful. When she received Samuel's call, it was already late. He sounded happy. "Bella, I've just landed. I'll be home soon. I'll bring you some snacks, how about it?" "I'm not home." "It's so late. Where are you?" "On the mountaintop." "What are you doing on the mountaintop?" "Watching the stars." "Wait for me, I'll come right now…" Suddenly, there was a loud noise on the other end of the line. It sounded like a woman was speaking. Samuel snapped something in a low voice. The woman seemed persistent, and Samuel didn't say anything for a long while. Then, Isabella heard what seemed to be the sound of a kiss. Isabella sneered. "Samuel, are you still coming?" His voice was somewhat hoarse as he said, "Bella, starting tomorrow, I'll be with you all the time. I just need to go to the office tonight and wrap things up. After that, I can focus on being with you. How does that sound?" Isabella laughed. "Sounds good." "My darling wife is so understanding. Let's meet at the ceremony venue tomorrow. Oh, and don't forget the gift you got me. I'm really looking forward to the surprise you've prepared." "Samuel," Isabella called him one last time. "What is it?" "It's nothing." Nothing at all. From now on, Isabella Jones no longer existed in this world. After descending the mountain, she hailed a taxi. "Hello, sir. To the airport, please." The driver noticed she was alone and asked with concern, "Miss, where's your luggage? I can help you with it." "I don't have any luggage. Just drive." All she had was a passport and a flight ticket. Everything else was donated or burned. Anything related to the name "Isabella Jones" had already been taken care of. Thirty minutes later, the car stopped at the airport entrance. Isabella transferred all the money from her phone to the driver. The driver looked flustered. "Miss, you transferred the wrong amount. It's 30 dollars, not 30 thousand! Let me send it back to you-" "It's fine. Thank you for the ride." She got out of the car and tossed her phone into the trash. Without looking back, she walked into the terminal.	LEARN_MORE	https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1	Happyday	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	1,643	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more		www.qknymufd.com	VIDEO		https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18282&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/t39.35426-6/476644810_1752187982017421_1888405574198710554_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=mfm03uldd5MQ7kNvgGepW6u&_nc_oc=Adi4gw3CDQM8r0OJrdUeQ9yl3Ljl1va_4SHkJoMIWL4kXV7lWMAjOlZ87xRCAQRPZhE&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AV5uwBO2woYCTdXwwYDKh-i&oh=00_AYCx-h8xgtZq9f83ydk5dIOaPZ-Yj8gdvgYP1fhJMINXNw&oe=67C2F291	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Happyday	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,691,294	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2691228}'	No	2025-02-24 19:42	active	2625	😍Read the next chapters👉	After signing the agreement, Isabella Jones stepped out and happened to catch a live interview with Samuel Grant on the news. The host asked, "Mr. Grant, you're so young and accomplished. What's your secret to success?" Samuel raised his left hand and pointed to the wedding ring on his ring finger. "The secret is simple. I have a wonderful wife." The host blinked in surprise. "Oh? I thought you'd share some insights about the industry and your future plans instead." "That's not important. All the wealth I have right now doesn't compare to even a single strand of my wife's hair." "Wow, I really envy your wife…" On the screen, Samuel glanced at his watch, then smiled at the camera. "Sorry, we'll have to pause the interview for a moment. Time's almost up. I'd like to use this live broadcast to say something to my wife." "Of course, Mr. Grant. Go ahead." Samuel's voice softened. "Bella, I just had someone bring you some ginger tea with honey. It should be arriving soon. Drink it and get some good rest. I'll give you a massage when I get home." Around her, a few young women gathered, watching the live broadcast on the big screen. They couldn't help but murmur in envy. "Who is Mr. Grant's wife? To have a man like him so completely devoted…" "That's so sweet! He dotes on her so much! Ugh, I'm so jealous!" The sound of admiring voices filled Isabella's ears. Yet, the person in question remained silent, smiling mockingly. Everyone thought she was the lucky one, that in a past life, she must have saved the entire galaxy to have married a man like Samuel. She used to think so too. But no one knew that Samuel had another woman on the side. They had been married for five years, and for four and a half of them, Samuel had been seeing this other woman. Every time he said he was on a business trip, he was really with her, indulging in passion and unrestrained affection. Isabella still remembered the first time she had seen those videos. Her heart felt like it had been pierced a thousand times with needles—pulled out and stabbed again and again. By the end, it was shattered and broken beyond repair. She also remembered when she was bullied in school. Samuel had stepped in, shielding her from the torment and fiercely teaching the bullies a lesson. He had told her, "Don't be afraid. I'll protect you from now on." There was another time, when they were driving, and an out-of-control truck came barreling toward them. Samuel's first instinct was to throw himself in front of her, shielding her with his own body. He ended up in the hospital for over six months, barely surviving, almost becoming a vegetable. When he finally woke up, his first words were to ask the nurse, "Is Bella okay?" When the nurse confirmed she was fine, he let out a sigh of relief and said, "As long as Bella is fine, it doesn't matter what happens to me." That was the moment Isabella truly fell in love with him—the man who would risk his life to protect hers. She didn't understand it. How could Samuel claim to love her while shamelessly sleeping with another woman? Was it true that men could separate love from desire? Isabella gently touched the wedding ring on her finger before taking it off. She walked past a disabled beggar sitting by the roadside, his empty tin cup containing only a few coins. Isabella approached him and dropped the ring into his cup. "Sell this. The money from it will be enough to buy a house and start a small business." The beggar thanked her repeatedly. In truth, Isabella had put it rather mildly. The ring was a custom design by a foreign jeweler, and the diamonds alone were worth millions. But now, she didn't want it anymore. If a wedding ring symbolized love and loyalty, then her wedding ring was worth nothing right now. Her phone rang—it was Samuel. "Bella, where are you? The person with the ginger tea and honey came to the house, but you weren't there." His voice was urgent, like he was genuinely worried about her. Isabella replied flatly, "I just stepped out for a walk." "Where are you now? I'll come pick you up right away." "No need, I'll be home soon." "No, you're on your period. I can't just leave you alone." Samuel arrived within five minutes. He rushed out of the car, quickly removed his coat, and draped it over her shoulders before pulling her into his arms. "Why are you dressed so lightly? You can't get cold when you're on your period." As Isabella looked up at him in his embrace, she noticed several fresh, red marks around his throat. They were recent. There were also teeth imprints. His clothes smelled faintly of a woman's perfume. So, he had just left Jennifer Lewis's bed before heading to the interview. As Samuel gently rubbed her fingers, he suddenly exclaimed in surprise, "Bella, where's your wedding ring?" Chapter 2 Isabella pulled her hand out of Samuel's grasp. "Maybe I lost it when I left the house this morning." Samuel immediately reached for his phone to dial a number. "I'll have someone go look for it right now." Isabella shook her head. "No need. Just consider it lost." "How can you just let it go? This ring is our wedding ring—it's proof of our love." Proof of their love? Their love had already been shattered beyond recognition by his countless betrayals. Isabella laughed softly. "It's just a piece of jewelry. It doesn't guarantee love." Samuel insisted, "Diamonds are the hardest thing on Earth. It represents my unchanging heart for you." "And what if one day, you betray me?" "That's impossible." "I'm asking, what if?" Samuel looked at her, his gaze sincere, even solemn. He swore, "If I ever betray you, let me be pierced by a thousand arrows and die a painful death." Isabella turned her face away, not wanting to see the fake earnesty in his eyes. Back when she still loved him, hearing him make such an earnest vow would've made her rush to cover his mouth, worried that she was pushing him too far, forcing him to swear like that. But now, she didn't love him anymore, and his words only sounded like a joke. "Bella." Samuel wrapped his arms around her from behind, his voice tinged with a hint of complaint. "Why do I feel like something's off lately? You've been so distant." "I haven't." "You have," he insisted. "Bella, is it because I've been too busy and haven't had time for you? Are you upset with me?" "I told you, I'm not," she said. "Let go of me." "I won't," he said, pulling her closer. "Next week is our fifth wedding anniversary, Bella. I've prepared a surprise for you..." Just then, his phone rang. Samuel immediately released her and pulled out his phone, glancing at the screen. From Isabella's point of view, she saw him smirk, a mischievous glint in his eyes, as his gaze on the screen turned suddenly suggestive. He quickly typed a reply. Then, he looked at her with a slight apology and said, "Bella, there's an urgent matter at the company. I need to head out right now." There was still a flicker of hope inside Isabella. "When will you be back?" Samuel wrapped an arm around her, kissing her gently on the forehead. "I might not be back tonight. But tomorrow morning, I'll bring you your favorite pastries, okay?" Just like that, he was gone. His tablet was still on the couch in the living room. Isabella picked it up, noticing that his WhatsApp was still logged in. Two minutes ago, a woman under the name "Little Tease" had sent him a picture. The woman was dressed in a bunny girl outfit—black fishnet stockings and bright red high heels. Her eyes were half-lidded, her cheeks flushed, and she was licking her fingers seductively. Samuel: Want more? Little Tease: It's so lonely and empty when you're not here, Master. Samuel: I gave you love seven times today. Isn't that enough? Little Tease: Are you coming over, Master? I'm yours tonight, do whatever you want… Samuel's reply was short. Samuel: I'm coming. Isabella turned the tablet off, her heart sinking as she closed her eyes in pain. She thought she had stopped caring, but seeing those messages again felt like a brutal punch to the gut. Tears rolled down her cheeks, hot and relentless. She didn't know when she fell asleep, but all she could remember was dreaming of a man and a woman rolling in the sheets together. The man's face was Samuel's. Just then, her phone vibrated. She opened it to find a video. The scene in the video mirrored the one in her dream perfectly. The man and woman were passionately tangled together, even more intensely than in her dream. Samuel's face was twisted in lust, and she felt nothing but disgust. Jennifer: Have you ever seen him like this? He says he can only let himself go like this with me. The short, one-minute video quickly ended. And then, it looped. Again, and again. Isabella watched it like it was some kind of self-inflicted punishment, over and over again. She needed to make herself see Samuel for what he was right now, to strip away the last shred of love she had for him, and finally drive him out of her heart. Her lawyer had already drafted the divorce papers. She wiped away her tears, then carefully placed the divorce papers into a delicate gift box and tied a ribbon around it. Samuel didn't return until the next afternoon, carrying a box of pastries. "Sweetheart, I promised to bring you these—your favorite pastries. Aren't you happy?" Isabella gave him a distracted hum. Noticing the redness around her eyes, Samuel gently cupped her face, kissing away the tears. "Why are you crying? Who upset my precious wife? Tell me, and I'll make sure they pay for it." He still carried that sickly-sweet scent of someone who had just indulged in an affair, mixed with the faint traces of another woman's perfume. It made her stomach churn. Isabella pushed his hand away, creating some space between them. "No one," she replied flatly. "I just watched a really touching movie last night." Samuel pulled her into his arms, his voice full of concern. "Don't watch them alone anymore. Let me watch them with you next time." Watch with her? He was too busy giving all his time to Jennifer. Isabella suddenly wanted to ask him if he even had time to spend with her anymore. Samuel pointed to the delicate gift box on the coffee table, his face lighting up with surprise. "Bella, is this for me?" Isabella nodded. "You said you had a surprise for me for our fifth wedding anniversary, right? Well, I have a surprise for you, too." Samuel looked thrilled, holding the gift box like it was the most precious thing. "Can I open it now?" Isabella said. "Our anniversary is a week from now. You can open it then." Chapter 3 Samuel thought for a moment, then nodded with a patient smile. "Okay, let's open our surprises together. It'll be more meaningful that way." Isabella suddenly had the urge to see Samuel's reaction when he found out she had passed away and when he saw the divorce papers after. Would he be shocked, confused, or... surprised? Samuel, ever the charmer, tried to cheer her up. "I heard there's a good movie out. How about I take you to see it?" Isabella wasn't interested, but the theater he mentioned was right next to their old high school. It was the place where he had confessed his love to her for the first time. Back in their school days, they spent countless romantic, sweet moments on the street behind the school. It was a place that witnessed the happiest days of their love. Since that was where it all began, it might as well be where it ended. When they arrived at the theater, it was a little crowded. Samuel wrapped his arm around her protectively, pulling her close to shield her from the pressing crowd. Among the crowd, a few young women recognized them. "Hey, isn't that Mr. Grant? The woman he's holding is his wife, right? She's so beautiful!" "How does someone like Mr. Grant even exist? He's so handsome and devoted." "They're such a perfect match. They really do look amazing together." Samuel continued to protectively lead her to their seats. Then, he carefully helped her out of her jacket and held it for her. The theater manager, Isaac Smith, approached them with a wide grin, carrying a hand warmer and a cup of ginger tea with honey. "Mr. Grant, we heard that Mrs. Grant is going through a special time right now. We've prepared these just as you asked. Please let us know if you need anything else." Samuel took the items from him. He placed the hand warmer on her belly, and then handed her the tea. "The temperature's just right. Would you like a sip, Bella?" Isabella mechanically accepted his care, remaining silent the entire time. Samuel frowned slightly, then turned to Isaac. "Go and get some snacks, but nothing too greasy, spicy, or sweet. Bella doesn't like those." "Of course, Mr. Grant, I'll be right back." Isaac hurried off. The movie's opening credits began on the big screen. Just then, a woman approached Isabella's side and quietly said, "Excuse me, my seat is inside. Could you please let me through?" The lights in the theater had already dimmed, and Isabella didn't immediately realize what was happening. She quickly moved aside, letting the woman pass. It wasn't until the woman walked past her and then Samuel, finally settling in the seat next to him, that Isabella understood. She suddenly realized that the voice she had just heard was so familiar—it was the same voice from the video. The woman was Jennifer, the same girl who had been tangled up with Samuel in the video. At the next moment, the cup in Jennifer's hand tilted. The entire drink spilled across Samuel's stomach. "Oh, sorry... I'm so sorry!" Jennifer apologized, fumbling for a napkin from her bag to help him wipe it off. The dampness was on his stomach, but her hands kept sliding down, pressing in places that made Isabella's stomach churn. At the same time, Isabella could clearly feel the arm around her shoulders suddenly tighten. Along with that, his whole body tensed up. Out of the corner of her eye, Isabella glanced at Samuel's lower part. Jennifer's hand was underneath, with Samuel's hand firmly pressing down on hers, his gaze seeming to warn her not to cause trouble. But Jennifer continued to act as though nothing was wrong. She continued smiling and wiping. "Sir, how about I just buy you a new pair of pants?" "No need," Samuel's voice had turned rough and strained. The movie started. It was an animated film—the animals were cute, and the plot was funny. But Isabella couldn't focus on it at all. Ten minutes into the movie, Samuel suddenly stood up. "Bella, Isaac doesn't know what snacks you like. I'll go check." He still held her coat in his hand, draped over his forearm, covering the obvious state on the lower half of his body. As he walked away, Jennifer stood up as well and followed him. When she passed by Isabella, she flashed a disdainful smirk and shot her a quick glance. The look seemed to say: See? He chose me. Five minutes later, Isabella received a text: [Women's restroom.] She quickly left the theater and headed to the restroom at the end of the hallway. From the first stall in the women's restroom, she could hear muffled groans and faint pleas—no doubt Jennifer's voice. And the man's voice... Isabella knew it all too well. She stood frozen, rooted to the spot, unable to move. The noise from the stall grew louder, and the woman let out a sharp cry. Then, Samuel's mocking voice came, "Is that all you can handle? You chased after me to the theater, and this is how you perform?" Jennifer whimpered, and it was hard to tell if she was crying or laughing. "I miss you... I just can't stand seeing you with her." Samuel's tone cooled slightly. "I can give you everything else, but our affair can't be dragged in front of Bella. You've crossed the line tonight." "Okay, I get it. But don't you think it's exciting to be in a dark theater like this? It's a thrill." He chuckled softly. "It is a bit." "Then… should we continue tonight?" His voice was hoarse and strained. "I'll buy tickets in a bit for the midnight show." "Make sure it's the last row, okay? That way we won't have to hide in the bathroom... We can just be in our seats…" Not far off, Isaac hurried over. But he wasn't holding snacks—he had a small square box in his hands. He quietly called out near the women's restroom door, "Mr. Grant, I've bought the thing you asked for." The noise inside finally quieted for a moment, and Samuel appeared at the door. Isabella quickly stepped behind a pillar, her heart racing. Samuel chuckled lightly. "That was fast." "Of course, the movie's short—only three hours. Can't waste a moment of your special time," Isaac replied. Samuel sounded pleased. "Take good care of Bella. Don't let her notice anything unusual, understood?" "You can count on me, Mr. Grant. Mrs. Grant is so innocent. Women like her are easy to please—she'll believe anything you tell her." Isabella fled as if running for her life. Back in her seat, she let herself cry for a few minutes. But then, she forced herself to stop. This was the last time. This was the last time she would cry for Samuel. But it wasn't really for him. It was for the pure-hearted boy in her memories, the one who had only eyes for her. The man with her now was nothing like that boy anymore. And since he wasn't, she wouldn't hold onto him anymore. Chapter 4 Samuel didn't return until the movie was almost over. He still smelled of that sickly-sweet, pungent scent. In addition to that, he brought a box of popcorn. "Bella, I'm sorry I'm late. The popcorn machine broke down at the theater, and they spent forever fixing it. It's freshly made, though. Eat it while it's warm." Isabella waved her hand. "I don't want any." "Not even the ginger tea with honey?" "I don't want it." "Alright, no food, no drink, then. Let's just watch the movie." Isabella scoffed. "The movie's almost over." "It's all that technician's fault. He took so long to fix the machine." "So, for the last three hours, you've just been waiting for him to fix it?" Samuel nodded earnestly. "Yes. Isaac can vouch for me. If you don't believe me, you can ask him." "No need," Isabella said, grabbing her bag and walking away. Samuel hurried after her, holding her coat and the popcorn. "Bella, just tell me what I did wrong. I'll change, okay? Don't ignore me. I'm scared." "Scared of what?" "Scared that you don't love me anymore." Isabella stopped and turned to face him, looking straight into his eyes. It was he who had betrayed their relationship first. It was he who said one thing and did another. It was he who stopped cherishing her. Since that was the case, she decided to take back everything—her heart, her trust, her love… And her body. She had given a piece of her clothing to Fauxlife Solutions, the agency that was faking her death. She had torn it up, then bit her finger and smeared the blood on it. A week later, he would receive that bloody shirt. And she? She would be gone from his life forever. "Bella, why aren't you saying anything?" Isabella exhaled deeply, her voice flat. "It's just my period. I'm a little tired." "Let me take you home to rest." "Okay." On the way home, Samuel kept trying to talk to her, telling her jokes. But Isabella only responded with, "I'm a bit tired. I want to rest." With that, Samuel fell silent. When they arrived home, he walked her to the bedroom. Isabella asked, "Are you still going to the office tonight to handle work?" Samuel hummed in acknowledgment. "There are a few things left to do. I didn't finish them yesterday, so I'll need to work late tonight." "Then you should go." Isabella turned her back to him as she lay down, sending a silent signal for him to leave. Samuel stood still, not moving. He seemed to sense that something was off, but couldn't quite figure out what was wrong. Isabella suddenly had the urge to play a little prank. She turned to him and said, "Can you not go tonight?" Samuel visibly relaxed. She still depended on him, still acted a little spoiled, and still wanted him close. That meant she hadn't discovered anything. He smiled gently. "Sweetheart, I've already made plans. The executives are all waiting for me. But next week—next week, I'll make time to spend with you, okay?" "Next week?" "Yeah. Isn't next weekend our five-year anniversary? I'm planning a grand ceremony to let everyone in Herswick City know that you're the woman I love most in this life." A grand ceremony? Isabella smiled. That made it all the more exciting. "Alright, then. Go ahead." "You're such a good girl, Bella. I'm leaving, then. It's about time for the meeting, and I can't keep them waiting." Was he in a rush to not keep "them" waiting, or to not keep "her" waiting? Samuel hurried out. The tablet on the couch began vibrating again. They were in touch once more. Samuel: Are you ready? Jennifer sent a picture. This time, she was in a nurse's uniform. Of course, not the proper kind—what should be exposed was, and what shouldn't was also exposed. Samuel: I'll make sure you scream tonight. Isabella turned off the tablet and began gathering her things. Her clothes, her purse, her shoes—everything Samuel had ever given her over the years. Then, she went into the closet and continued pulling things out. Her hand paused for a moment when she touched a metal box. Inside the box were the letters Samuel had written to her—there was a thick stack of them. When they first got together, he wrote, [From today, Bella is my one true love.] On his birthday, he wrote, [My birthday wish is to spend a lifetime loving Bella and growing old together.] For Isabella's 20th birthday, he wrote, [My darling Bella is of legal age now, I can't wait to marry you.] On their wedding day, he wrote, [To the most beautiful and lovable Princess Bella, welcome to my world.] Isabella didn't care to look at the rest. She took all the letters outside and burned them, letting the fire consume them completely. The next morning, she was woken by the sound of Samuel entering the room. He sounded angry. "Bella, our wedding ring was stolen by a beggar, and he sold it at a pawn shop!" Isabella felt a pang of disappointment. How did he find it? "And he sold it for only 10,000! It's such an insult to our ring!" He came over, took her hand, and tried to put the ring back on her finger. "Now, let's return it to its rightful owner…" Isabella pulled her hand back, refusing to wear the ring again. Samuel seemed confused. "Bella, what's wrong?" "It's nothing, I just... I've gained a bit of weight recently, and the ring doesn't fit anymore." Samuel laughed. "That's okay. I'll take it to the jeweler to resize it for you." "Whatever," Isabella replied, then asked, "You didn't do anything to that beggar, did you?" Samuel came closer and hugged her. "Don't worry. I know how kind-hearted you are, Bella. You wouldn't want to see the beggar suffer. I didn't hold him accountable." "Maybe we should give him some more money. He's pitiful." "Alright, I'll give him another 10,000 later." Just then, Isabella's phone rang, and she answered it. "Hello, Ms. Jones, this is Fauxlife Solutions. We've completed the new identification documents as per your request. Are you available to pick them up?" "Sure, send me the address." "I'll send the location to your phone shortly." "By the way, will the new documents allow me to purchase flight tickets?" "Don't worry, they will be fully valid for that." "Okay, thank you." After Isabella hung up the call, Samuel suddenly seemed anxious and wrapped his arms around her. "Bella, what's this about new documents? Flight tickets? Are you leaving? Where are you going?" Chapter 5 Being held by Samuel used to feel like happiness. But now, Isabella only felt discomfort. She broke free from his embrace and stepped away from him, putting a few paces between them. Samuel seemed even more panicked and rushed after her. "Bella, do you want to go on a trip? Next week, I promise I'll clear my schedule and spend all my time with you. Don't be mad. Don't leave me, okay?" Isabella only felt a cold emptiness inside. The man who was begging her not to leave, pleading like this—was he the real Samuel? Or was it the man she had seen on the video, tangled up with Jennifer? Isabella couldn't tell anymore. But it didn't matter. Soon, she would leave him forever. Whether she knew which version of him was real, it wouldn't make any difference. She spoke flatly, "You're overthinking. Didn't you say we're having a ceremony for our anniversary?" Samuel still didn't believe it and continued to pester her. "But what about the new documents you mentioned? What documents did you get? You even asked about flight tickets." "It's for a classmate of mine. She lost her documents and couldn't buy a ticket. She needs to get new ones." "Which classmate?" "…You don't know her." "I know all your classmates." Isabella changed the subject. "Enough about me. What about you? Did you finish everything at work last night?" "Almost." Before he could finish, his phone rang again. Isabella was already used to Jennifer calling him and dragging him away. No matter what, Samuel was going to leave. So, she walked away and sat on the couch to wait. She heard Samuel's quiet reprimand. "I've told you already, don't call me when I'm at home!" On the other end of the phone, she could hear a woman crying softly. Then, Samuel sneaked a peak at Isabella guiltily. "…Fine. I'll come over now." After hanging up, Samuel hesitated before speaking again. "Bella, there's a small issue at the company that is leftover from last night... I have to take care of it." Isabella nodded immediately. "Go ahead. Work's been busy lately. I understand." Samuel hurriedly left once again. Isabella held her phone. She was waiting to see what shocking video Jennifer would send her next. As expected, Jennifer's message came quickly. This time, it was a photo—a hospital checkup form. [Jennifer Lewis, four weeks pregnant, threatened miscarriage] Jennifer: Last night at the theater was too much fun, and the baby's showing signs of miscarriage. The hospital says the baby's father needs to be there to sign the forms. Sorry, Mrs. Grant, but your husband belongs to me again today! Jennifer was pregnant?! Isabella held the phone tightly, staring at the pregnancy test results. She couldn't snap out of it. Jennifer: I forgot to tell you, for the next week, he'll still be mine. He promised to go to Hawaii with me to celebrate our little baby. Jennifer: He's leaving the room to give you a call. Be prepared, Mrs. Grant. The way she said "Mrs. Grant" was filled with a hint of provocation. Almost immediately, Isabella's phone rang. The screen displayed the word [Honey]. She took a deep breath and answered. "Bella, I'm sorry. Something came up at work, and I need to go on a business trip-" Before he could finish, Isabella interrupted him directly. "Go ahead." Samuel continued apologizing, "Bella, don't worry. I'll be back for our anniversary. And the wedding ring—the symbol of our love—I'll put it back on you during the ceremony." "Samuel, do you love me?" "Of course! You're the only woman I've ever loved in this life." Isabella replied, "If one day, you betray our love, I will leave you. Forever." Samuel laughed like he had just heard a joke. He chuckled and said, "I won't ever give you that chance." "I'm serious. I'm not joking. If I ever find out, you'll never find me again." "As long as you're Isabella Jones, it doesn't matter where you go. Even if you run to the end of the world, I'll always find you." "Really? What if I'm not Isabella Jones anymore?" Samuel's smile widened, and his voice was lazy and indulgent. "How could you not be Isabella? Alright, Bella, don't overthink things. I'll only ever love you. One week from now, I'll be back to spend time with you." Ten minutes later, the staff from Fauxlife Solutions sent her an address. When Isabella arrived, the staff handed her a stack of documents. "Ms. Jones, from today on, this is your new identity." She flipped through the papers. Her new name was Elysia Farrow. Elysia was a beautiful name associated with "parting"—she was about to leave Samuel forever. She had chosen this name for herself. From now on, there would be no more Isabella Jones. There would only be Elysia Farrow. "Ms. Jones… I mean, Ms. Farrow, we've also booked your ticket. It's for next Saturday at 10 a.m. to Frosthaven." Isabella gathered the documents and nodded, thanking the staff. "Thank you. I'll transfer the full commission to your company's account later." "Ms. Farrow, you still have a week to reconsider. If you change your mind, we won't charge you any fees." "No," Isabella stood up, her tone firm. "I won't change my mind." Chapter 6 In the following days, messages from Samuel and Jennifer kept coming in. Three days before their anniversary, Isabella checked her messages. Jennifer: The sea breeze in Hawaii is so nice! The seafood is delicious too, but he says I can't eat seafood because I'm pregnant. So, he ran really far to buy me Eastern food! Attached was a picture of a Hawaiian beach scene. There was the sand and a coconut grove. Not far away, Samuel was opening a take-out box. Samuel: There are so few choices of Eastern food here. I had to travel far to find some. Bella, what did you eat today? Isabella had spent the day with her close friends. They had a barbeque and had a great time. After all, she was about to change her identity and leave. It would be hard to see them again, so she wanted to cherish this last time. Two days before their anniversary, Isabella's phone vibrated with incoming messages. Jennifer: The baby is only a month old, and he's already studying early childhood education. He's going to be such a great first-time dad! The attached photo was of Samuel's desk, stacked high with books. Isabella skimmed the titles—Baby Prenatal Education Guide, The Wisdom of Early Education, and so on. Samuel: Bella, I spent the whole day reading books. I've learned a lot. What about you? What did you do today? Isabella had gone to the bank. She exchanged all the funds from her account into foreign currency, withdrew cash, and closed all the bank cards under the name "Isabella Jones". One day before their anniversary, Isabella glanced at her phone. Jennifer: He's so sweet and caring. He doesn't want anyone else to touch my clothes while I'm pregnant, so he's washing them himself. Look! The attached photo was of Samuel, busy in the laundry room. Samuel: I didn't realize how exhausting laundry is. I think I'll leave it to the maid from now on. I don't want my darling wife working so hard. Isabella laughed. For five years of marriage, she had washed all of his clothes by hand. And now, he was washing clothes for another woman. How ironic. Just then, the charity organization arrived. Isabella carefully cleaned and packed her old clothes, handing them all over to the charity. When she came back and saw the house nearly empty, she felt a sense of lightness she had never experienced before. It turned out that the end of love was just a moment's decision. Once she stopped loving him, she could be so carefree. - The night before their anniversary, Isabella went to the mountaintop alone. She just looked up at the vast night sky, dotted with stars, the crescent moon hanging low. It was beautiful. When she received Samuel's call, it was already late. He sounded happy. "Bella, I've just landed. I'll be home soon. I'll bring you some snacks, how about it?" "I'm not home." "It's so late. Where are you?" "On the mountaintop." "What are you doing on the mountaintop?" "Watching the stars." "Wait for me, I'll come right now…" Suddenly, there was a loud noise on the other end of the line. It sounded like a woman was speaking. Samuel snapped something in a low voice. The woman seemed persistent, and Samuel didn't say anything for a long while. Then, Isabella heard what seemed to be the sound of a kiss. Isabella sneered. "Samuel, are you still coming?" His voice was somewhat hoarse as he said, "Bella, starting tomorrow, I'll be with you all the time. I just need to go to the office tonight and wrap things up. After that, I can focus on being with you. How does that sound?" Isabella laughed. "Sounds good." "My darling wife is so understanding. Let's meet at the ceremony venue tomorrow. Oh, and don't forget the gift you got me. I'm really looking forward to the surprise you've prepared." "Samuel," Isabella called him one last time. "What is it?" "It's nothing." Nothing at all. From now on, Isabella Jones no longer existed in this world. After descending the mountain, she hailed a taxi. "Hello, sir. To the airport, please." The driver noticed she was alone and asked with concern, "Miss, where's your luggage? I can help you with it." "I don't have any luggage. Just drive." All she had was a passport and a flight ticket. Everything else was donated or burned. Anything related to the name "Isabella Jones" had already been taken care of. Thirty minutes later, the car stopped at the airport entrance. Isabella transferred all the money from her phone to the driver. The driver looked flustered. "Miss, you transferred the wrong amount. It's 30 dollars, not 30 thousand! Let me send it back to you-" "It's fine. Thank you for the ride." She got out of the car and tossed her phone into the trash. Without looking back, she walked into the terminal.	LEARN_MORE	https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1	Happyday	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	1,643	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more		www.qknymufd.com	VIDEO		https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18282&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/t39.35426-6/477373775_1002700878400029_1214903845502162085_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ulNBYK2XYzIQ7kNvgG3omgU&_nc_oc=AdiMDo2_fQjiHQ4kUWbC3PrQlCTVGJGp2QbFuKlnW869DNtfGiv6eib_cK3L3Ru1A7E&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AM-IiibpyT2bQy24R0aY0WE&oh=00_AYDS6vgimXC8ogy_NQ_vF9fr58IS_cvQxAvuJE3LHCJsjg&oe=67C30335	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Happyday	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,691,760	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-02-24 19:42	active	2625	Read next chapter	To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blde. "You're the one who climbed into my bd back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi*ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his bdmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my bd, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in bd. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her chst. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red mrk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my bd too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You bch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame graning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... 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) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e	Popular romance stories	https://www.facebook.com/100083149047490/	18,002	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more		fbweb.moboreader.net	VIDEO		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0130-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=673595984708315&exdata=E7C53BDECE0DE88B3ACA4B8558D79D3577E62F3062A941BE	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475256802_579544871579047_4884568829452596400_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=_0vnQt9KzhQQ7kNvgEPxbCc&_nc_oc=Adi3okUXuW-c7femJ8JcsNXomFfbXdlz-PgNZDRJHLth-eeb8Oqb_pGgxIJUiZ6fSu702Hpdz6VgyJOJuNl85cIp&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Au0jUGFF99G4hPg6z3lZhOh&oh=00_AYDC1mLd_eXNWJNO0efp-BeYLsX3Az3fp7bEUOHSLoz1Mg&oe=67C306F0	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Popular romance stories	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,691,301	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2691257}'	Yes	2025-02-24 19:42	active	2625	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	"Are... are you sure, Esther?" I ask with a broken voice. My heart races, filled with happiness. "Very sure, Luna. You're carrying a little wolf!" "Why haven't I been able to smell it, or his father?" I ask, worried. "It's very recent, perhaps that's why. Give it a few more days and you should be able to sense the pheromones." She replies, and I nod, my eyes blurred with tears. I am the Luna of the "Autumn Forest" pack. Three years ago, I married the man I love madly, despite not being destined mates, my Alpha Dorian. I've given everything to be the perfect Luna, the pillar he can lean on. However, a shadow looms over my marriage—the topic of an heir. I've never been able to get pregnant, and I admit I don't share the bed with Dorian as often. But I know his duties as Alpha keep him extremely busy and stressed. "Please, don't tell anyone in the pack. I want to surprise my husband." "Don't worry, Luna, I won't say anything. Congratulations!" She smiles at me, and I return the smile, overflowing with excitement and happiness. Despite being a foreigner, not originally belonging to this pack, ever since my parents died and the previous Alpha took me in, I've never felt rejected or looked down upon. That's why I've devoted myself fully to my duties as Luna. I'm grateful for my life and the wonderful man I'm married to. *** "What's with all this food? Is there going to be a party?" "Hands off!" I swat away the greedy claws of Sophia, my best friend, who sneaked in through the back kitchen door. "But wow, puff pastry tart and everything!" she says, sitting on a stool. Honestly, I may have gone a bit overboard with the dishes, but I'm so happy I want everything to be perfect. All my Alpha's favorite foods are ready! "Well, today is Dorian's and my anniversary. I want to celebrate with an intimate dinner," I say, turning back to the caramel on the stove. I don't hear her respond, so I turn halfway, curious. "What's wrong?" "N-nothing, nothing... I just heard the Alpha had an emergency today. Didn't he tell you?" she asks, and I frown. Actually, Dorian doesn't usually explain much about his work. I guess it's to avoid worrying me. "No, but he'll come back anyway. He knows today is special." I respond, completely convinced. She looks at me strangely. Lately, I can't quite understand her, but she's the first person who approached me in this pack and has always supported me. I value her greatly as a friend. "Sophie, there's something I want to tell you, but... I'll tell you tomorrow. It's very important to me," I say suddenly, wanting to share the good news with her, but not before confessing it to Dorian. "Really? Can't you tell me now?" she asks, gossip-mode activated, leaning over the counter while munching on a homemade cookie. "No, no. Tomorrow. I promise you'll be the second to know," I reply, and I can feel my happiness radiating from every pore. "Fine, I'll leave you with your mystery then. I've got things to do. Happy anniversary," she grumbles, frustrated I didn't spill the secret, and leaves the same way she came. I check the clock. There's still time. I take off my apron and head to the second floor to shower and get dressed nicely. Everything has to be perfect tonight, celebrating with my beloved mate. * I glance at the clock for the thousandth time, sitting on the sofa. It's past midnight, and Dorian hasn't arrived. I look at the cold dishes on the dining table and get up, resigned to reheating them again. I'm in the middle of that task when I hear the front door open and close. His delicious scent tingles my nose, warming my stomach. I glance at my burgundy dress, smoothing it out and fixing my hair in the hallway mirror. My jet-black hair is tied in a high ponytail, and my intensely blue eyes, highlighted with makeup, stare back at me. I step into the foyer, watching my imposing Alpha enter the door. "My love, how was your day? Lots of work, right?" I grab the coat he's holding to hang it up. I see him clutching some documents, but I assume they're pack matters. I move closer to kiss him, but he steps back. "I'm sweaty and dirty from the road. Don't contaminate yourself," he says, his piercing honey eyes staring at me—eyes I adore despite their constant coldness. It's just part of his nature. He carries too many responsibilities after inheriting the role so young when his father died. His blond hair is messily handsome, and for some reason, damp. I can even catch the scent of an unfamiliar shower gel. Why would he shower before coming home? And he said he was dirty, yet it's clear he just bathed. "S-sure, give me a second to reheat dinner. You must be hungry..." "I'm not hungry. Valeria, we need to talk." "But the dinner—" "Forget dinner. Let's go to the living room. I need to tell you something," his authoritative voice makes me tense. I follow him, starting to feel deeply worried. My hand slips into my skirt pocket, clutching the folded document stating I'm having his baby. "Why was the table so full of dishes? Were you planning a party?" he asks, glancing at the dining room. My heart clenches. "Love, I know you've been busy with pack duties. But... don't tell me you forgot our anniversary? Today marks three years since we mated," I say, sitting on the couch. I expect him to sit beside me, but instead, he chooses the armchair opposite. Dorian has never been overly affectionate, but tonight he's too distant. Too cold. An alarm goes off inside me. "Of course, I remembered. You have no idea how long I've been waiting for our third anniversary," he replies, but I don't see a trace of joy in his expression. I know everything will change with my news. Our relationship hasn't been great because of this. The pack elders keep pressuring him for an heir. When I tell him about the baby, he'll be happy. "I'll be quick because I can't stand this any—" "Wait! Wait, Dorian. Let me show you something first, and then you can tell me what you wanted to say," I interrupt him, feeling a strong premonition, I won't like his next words. Lowering my head, I take out the folded paper and hand it to him, my heart racing with emotion. He takes it, reading silently as I watch him, anxious, waiting for his joy to match mine. "I'm pregnant! I'm carrying your pup! We'll have an heir for the pack. I'm sure the Goddess has blessed us with a son!" I can't hold back and blurt it out directly. Tears in my eyes, I rise and move toward him, wanting to embrace him. But as in love as I am, even I can see this isn't the reaction I expected from the father of my child. "Are you sure about this, or is it just a trick to keep me tied to you?" he suddenly says, rising and pushing me away when I try to hug him. "Dorian... Of course, I'm sure. Look, that's the midwife's handwriting. Why would I lie about something so important? My love, what's wrong? What's happening, my Alpha?" "No, no. Damn it!" I watch him pace like a caged wolf around the living room. "This can't be happening. Not now!" "Dorian..." "Did you tell my mother? Anyone else?!" he asks suddenly, approaching me and gripping my shoulders tightly. "N-no, love. I was waiting to tell you first. I thought... you'd be happy. I know they've been pressuring you. Alpha, you don't have to be tense anymore. We'll have our family." I raise a trembling hand to caress his cheek, but he just stares at me with those golden eyes, silent. I can't figure out what's going on in his head. "You're right... I've been very stressed. I'm sorry," he suddenly pulls me into his arms, and I finally sigh, relieved, hugging him back tenderly. For a second, I feared he wasn't happy. "We'll get through this together, my Alpha. I'll be the perfect Luna so no one will judge you," I whisper, lifting my head. I want him to kiss me, to make love to me like we haven't in a long time. "Let's go for a run. A wild, unrestricted anniversary night." He suddenly suggests it, taking my hand and pulling me toward the back of our house, which borders the pack's forest. "Shift into your she-wolf," he commands, and I watch him undressing. He's so charming and strong. His hair glows under the moonlight, and I begin the transformation into my "she-wolf," one of the greatest lies and secrets of my life—something not even Dorian knows. * We run freely across the pack's lands. But I notice how we keep going farther and farther, even crossing the borders, yet I just follow Dorian's massive white wolf racing wildly ahead of me. We reach a remote place, at the edge of a deep cliff, but above us, the moon shines intensely, and the forest landscape stretches far below. "Where is this? We're outside our pack's territory... Aren't we trespassing on someone's land?" I gaze into the distance from the edge, mesmerized by the view, having already shifted back into human form, but no one responds. I feel uneasy and start to turn around. However, something inside me stirs with alarm. A crow caws in the distance—but it's already too late. "Do... Dorian, wha—?! Aaaaaahhh!" I scream as I feel wolf claws tearing into my abdomen, deeply ripping through me. Terrified and shocked by the sudden attack, I try to run. I attempt to shift back into my wolf to escape into the forest, away from whatever is happening, away from this rabid Alpha wolf whose blood-red eyes glare at me with pure hatred—but it's impossible to flee. "Ahhh! Let me go! Dorian, what are you doing?! What are you doing?! Ahhh! Help! Help!" I scream as he jumps on me when I try to escape. C2 THE WORST BETRAYAL VALERIA He bites my thigh viciously and drags me beneath his body, controlling me mercilessly. I try to resist, to call for help, my hands clutching my stomach, trying to protect my pup, but his claws, like deadly weapons, pierce my skin, tearing apart my small, vulnerable body. I have to raise my arms instinctively when his sharp claws aim for my face, and I scream in agony as a deep wound slices across my cheek from my forehead. Leaving my belly exposed, he struck our child. "Nooo, not the pup, please, Dorian, not our son!" Tears poured endlessly from my eyes as I begged him, but his canines tore through my flesh, and his claws dug into the depths of my insides with chilling cruelty, seeking to rip out the life growing inside me. I don’t know how long this agony lasted—I sobbed, pleading as long as I could speak. The pain in my entire body was unbearable, but worse was the pain in my soul, bleeding and shattered. I was discarded on the ground like trash, on the edge of a precipice, my consciousness nearly slipping away from the pain when I saw him shift into his human form. "You thought you could keep me tied to you forever?" he yelled furiously. His eyes were cold and disgusted, a look I had never seen before. "Did you really think I loved you, that I was dying to have a child with you? What a waste!" He kicked me with rage, but I no longer had the strength to even moan in pain. "Three damn years I've been separated from my mate because of you!" he roared, pouring out all the hatred he'd stored up over time. "Why…?" I barely managed to whisper, my face swollen, my tongue heavy, and my throat bleeding from a deep wound. "Because you came to the pack, the miserable orphan, and that old lady said you would give birth to the strongest Alphas, powerful enough to elevate my bloodline." "Pure nonsense from that crazy old hag, but my mother believed her and forced me to give up my mate for you because you were infatuated with me! She gave me three damn years—that was our deal. If you didn’t succeed, I’d be free." "So, today I come, ready to rid myself of an obstacle like you, and you say that you’re carrying my son," he laughed like a psychopath. "I won’t let you do it again, Valeria. You won't ruin my life again. This is the end for you!" He walked toward me, and I saw death staring me in the face. I wanted to say so many things... «I didn't know you already loved someone else. I was just a foolish, infatuated girl, but I never forced you to love me back. How could you deceive me, fake everything all this time? Our child… how could you… how could you do this…?!» I felt so powerless as I lay there, sobbing, bloody, and dying. I wished I could connect with his wolf, scream out this injustice, but I couldn’t—not even that. I didn’t have an inner she-wolf. I could only shift my body and pretend. Some said it was trauma from my adoptive parents’ violent death, where only I survived. Others claimed it was a curse, but I knew that wasn't true. I had never felt the presence of a wolf spirit within me. "Goodbye, dear wife. You don't seem so special after all," he said cynically, and with his foot, he kicked me over the cliff's edge. The last thing I knew was the sensation of falling into the cold void. I looked up at the dark sky as shadows of crows circled above my head, like messengers of death. "I'm so sorry, baby. I couldn't protect you." * "Why aren't her wounds healing properly?" "I can't waste the pack's blood on a stranger. Jake already did too much rescuing her from the rogue woods. She has to heal on her own." "Honestly, I don't even know how this woman is still alive. Poor thing… her body is horribly damaged, especially her belly… and her face." I heard voices talking nearby, hands examining me. An unbearable pain worse than death itself burned through my body, dragging me between consciousness and darkness. I don’t know how much time passed or where I was, but when I opened my eyes, I saw a white ceiling. I looked around and saw a small room, lying on a personal bed. "You're awake?" a female voice spoke suddenly beside me, and I saw an unfamiliar face. I tried to speak, but for some reason, I couldn't—it was as if my vocal cords refused to work. "Don't strain yourself. Stay calm. You… I don't think you can talk right now because of the wound on your neck," she explained with a troubled expression. And then, my foggy mind remembered—everything. The first thing I did was reach for my belly, trying to sit up despite the dizziness and searing pain. "Don't move! Wait, calm down, calm down!" she stopped me and eased me back down, but I needed to know—desperately—I had to know if a miracle had occurred. I looked at her intensely and then at my stomach, wrapped in thick bandages. "Yes… I understand what you're asking, but… I'm sorry… your belly was completely torn. Your womb was destroyed, and your pup… didn't make it. It was impossible to save him. We don't even know how you're still alive." I felt the tears pouring uncontrollably from my eyes. I closed them in pure agony, my soul shattering. My lips trembled, my entire body shook, and ragged sobs escaped my torn throat. Why did this have to happen to me? Why did everything around me have to turn into a nightmare? My baby, my pup was innocent. Why did something so horrible have to happen to him? "Calm down, please! You can't get like this! Aston, I need you here! Bring the sedative! Now, Aston, hurry!" "Aaaahh! Aaaahh!" I heard distorted screams, a cry so raw it could freeze the blood and shatter hearts. A desperate, broken woman wailed—and then I realized… it was me. That wretched woman who had lost everything… was me. * Days have passed. I know a man rescued me from the forest beneath the cliff. I'm staying in a small pack not far from Autumn Forest. With my hands still covered in wounds, I try to splash water on my face, but I can't even bear to touch my skin. I lift my head, and as I do every time that I face a mirror, I have to summon all my courage. My face, once beautiful and envied by many she-wolves, now bears a horrific scar running across my forehead and another deep one on my left cheek. Dorian not only destroyed my child's life, my womb, but he also scarred my face. It should have healed, but I know it won't. I don't possess the rapid healing ability of werewolves. Yes, I heal—but slower, and scars remain. I step outside the small room and hear the healer and the she-wolf who treated me speaking quietly. They're discussing how I've used too many resources and how they may have to ask me to leave soon since packs rarely welcome outsiders so easily. But the she-wolf argues that I’m still in terrible condition. I appreciate her care and empathy, but it won't be necessary to cast me out. I've already decided—I’ll leave tonight on my own. * Hours later, I walk through the dark forest like a lost soul, the damp bandages soaked with reopened wounds, bleeding. I don't care—my legs keep moving in a single direction. Hiding in the bushes, I watch the patrol line carefully. I know exactly how to slip past without being detected—I designed this defense rotation myself for Dorian. Like so many things I did for him and the pack. I slip away into the shadows, as quickly as my battered body allows. The night and darkness are my allies. It's as if they amplify my strange abilities. I hear voices, laughter, and lights in the distance—from the backyard of what had been my home for three long years. I walk as if in slow motion, wearing old sneakers and a worn-out dress that the she-wolf from the hospital gave me. "Ladies and gentlemen, I've gathered you all here today because I could no longer hide my happiness. I’m finally marrying my beloved mate, the woman of my life, my sweet Sophia, your future Luna." I feel like I'm falling into a cavern of ice as I watch them, smiling and kissing in front of those who once called me Luna. It was my "best friend" Sophia and my traitorous Alpha Dorian, celebrating their union while my body should have been rotting beneath that cliff if their plan had worked. Traitorous hypocrite! That woman was even wearing one of my evening dresses, made up with my things, stealing my life without a trace of remorse. She had deceived me all this time, just as I had been blind to everyone in this pack, and worse, to the man who lay beside me every night while thinking of another woman. Even the midwife who told me about my pregnancy was there! Dorian must have promised her something to keep her silent. I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms, my teeth chattering with rage. I waited, waited like the deranged psychopath I had become, watching their entire celebration until the lights went out and everyone left for their homes. * I climbed the stairs to the second floor, walked down the dimly lit hallway, but I could hear them perfectly—making love in the master bedroom. Her feminine moans slipped through the crack of the slightly open door. I saw myself pushing it open gently. The moonlight streamed in through the large window, illuminating that figure riding Dorian, her back facing the entrance. "Alpha, tell me I'm better than her… Mmm… Come on, Dorian, tell me I'm better than that frigid Valeria." "You're the best, baby… don't even compare yourself to that stiff. Do me in her bed, come on… wasn't that what you always wanted?" Their filthy words hit my ears, and it was the final trigger I needed for everything to spiral out of control in an instant. I lunged at them on the bed. C3 THE OWNER OF THE CASTLE VALERIA I hear piercing screams, the sound of shattering glass, a savage roar, an Alpha's growls, struggling, and fighting. Something hot splashes against my face and arms. My claws shred, and my canines teared. I can't stop. I can't. Rage consumes me from the inside, demanding release. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm not conscious of myself. All I know is that when I regain control of my body, the first thing I see is my red hands. I'm kneeling on the floor, everything around me drenched in red, wreckage, and pieces of what once was a powerful Alpha—Dorian. What have I done? What in the name of the Goddess have I done?! I stare at his severed head, lying just a meter away from me. Those honey-colored eyes still stare back at me in frozen terror, and I feel bile rising in my throat. I vomit to the side, unable to hold it back, disgusted by this scene of death and violence. Did I do all this? There's no one else here. I scan the area, not knowing where Sophia went. The only thing I'm sure of is that someone was thrown through the shattered glass window. I stand up on trembling legs, glance down, but all I see is the forest behind the house and bloodstains across the grass. "Don't let her escape! Sophia, stop crying and tell me clearly what happened!" Voices shouted, hurried footsteps ascending the stairs. It was my mother-in-law's voice. I had to get out of here. I had killed the Alpha, and only a painful death awaited me. Desperately, I looked down. It seemed I had thrown that wretch Sophia out the window. I decided to jump out myself, from the second floor. BAM! The door burst open during my hesitation, and my eyes locked with Anaís, my mother-in-law, the former Luna—Dorian's mother. I saw the shock, the pain, and the fury in her eyes as she took in the scene. "You miserable! You killed my son! You murdered my Dorian! Seize her! Restrain her! I'm going to tear her apart with my bare hands!" She screamed, and the warriors behind her charged at me. I jumped without thinking. "Aaagghhh!" I groaned in pain as I crashed onto the grass, rolling over, but I forced my body to shift into my wolf form and ran with all the strength I had left. I fled into the forest as fast as my weakened legs allowed, escaping death. I don't know if it was adrenaline or sheer will to live, but I ran like a madwoman through unfamiliar lands and tangled woods. Days passed that way, where I only stopped to rest when I was on the verge of collapse, drinking water from mountain streams and feeding on prey that somehow appeared dead before me. Yes, yet another strange thing about my life. The few times I dared to close my eyes, every time I woke up, a small dead animal lay in front of my muzzle. I devoured them without knowing if they were poisonous or where they came from—I just needed energy. All I could think about was surviving. One night, I felt them again. I thought they had grown tired of chasing my trail, but that wasn’t the case. The sound of multiple wolves' footsteps echoed not far away. Desperation and exhaustion consumed me—I couldn't keep running forever. I had been skirting the borders of various packs, trying not to get caught, but that wasn't a solution. "She's just ahead! I can smell her! She will pay for this!" I heard a snarl—already so close to my trail. I could practically feel the danger breathing down my neck as I pushed my legs and lungs past their limit. I was done. They were going to catch me after all this effort. Then I lifted my blue eyes and saw them—above me, a flock of crows. Cawing, circling over my wolf form, as if trying to lead me somewhere. And for some reason, I followed them. I followed their sign and ventured deeper into unfamiliar lands—into the forbidden forest where no one dared enter without an invitation. But I had nothing left to lose. If I was going to die, at least let it be quick and without torture. That's how I crossed through the mist, leading me to the Golden Moon pack, the territory guarded by the Guardians—the land ruled by the Lycan King. * I felt like no one was following me anymore. I had no idea how far I had gone into Golden Moon territory, but suddenly, several powerful warriors blocked my path, surrounding me. "Who are you, and why have you trespassed into our pack?" a massive gray wolf asked coldly, approaching me menacingly. The black wolf I shifted into, so small and fragile, would be considered an Omega—the lowest rank in the pack, the weakest, often reduced to servitude. That was why, when I became Luna, I had felt foolishly grateful to Dorian. "I'm only seeking refuge to rest… I’m sorry for entering your forest. Just a few days, please… I only need a few days to recover and leave." I pleaded, praying my pursuers wouldn't dare follow me here. "Where do you come from? Speak! Why did you cross the Forbidden Forest? No one comes here for no reason! Tell the truth, or I'll rip your head off right now!" He growled, shoving me with his shoulder. I let out a low whimper of pain, unable to resist. Before he could take further action or carry out his threats, darkness consumed my vision, and I felt my body collapse unconscious to the ground. Maybe this time, I wouldn't wake up again. * The next time I opened my eyes, I was in a dark, damp cell, wearing tattered clothes barely covering my battered human body. Only the Goddess knows how I'm still alive. It seems she wants me to suffer—slowly and torturously. BAM! The sound of a metal door slamming jolted me. "So, you're finally awake! Take her out!" A massive, bald, intimidating man ordered two guards, who dragged me out. It was that gray wolf. I didn’t even have the strength to walk, let alone resist. They took me to a small room where the questioning began—trying to dominate me with his Alpha presence. But it didn’t work. I had no inner wolf to submit. I spent hours there, sitting on a hard chair, my hands tied behind me with ropes cutting into my skin. No matter how much freezing water they threw at me, how much they shouted or threatened, I kept my story and waited to die. My head hung limply, eyes closed, exhausted. At least they hadn’t beaten me or done worse. I've heard horrible stories about this pack of barbarians. "Fine. Since you refuse to talk, you know what awaits you. I've given you the chance to confess." His dark eyes locked on mine, giving me his final warning, but I had nothing more to say. He drew a dagger, yanked my hair back, exposing my neck, ready to slit my throat. I saw hesitation in his eyes when my black hair fell away, revealing my hideous scars. Maybe I looked pitiful—but he had a job to do. And I was ready for it to end. The dagger lowered, and I resigned myself. But a knock on the door interrupted my death once again, sending my emotions from one extreme to the other. "Now what the hell…? M-Madam… I mean, Housekeeper, what brings you here?" His previously harsh voice turned nearly submissive. Curious, I looked toward the door and saw a short woman with blonde hair tied up neatly, elegant yet stern. "What were you doing here?" Her cold green eyes fixed on mine, and I lowered my head. "She’s an intruder. Pack business—" "You were going to kill her, weren’t you?" she accused. "M-Madam, can we discuss this outside? It's protocol with intruders—" I heard his words stop short as a pair of black boots entered the room, standing right before me. "What's your name, girl?" "Valeria," I whispered weakly. "Look at me when I speak to you!" she ordered, and I lifted my head. She has a superior, imposing aura, and honestly, I think she's more terrifying than the massive brute. "Tell me, Valeria, do you want to live or die? You can survive if you agree to work for me. If not, pretend you never saw me," she offered, leaving me stunned. "W-what kind of work would it be?" "Work for the Guardians, in the castle kitchen or wherever you're needed—as a maid. I offer you shelter and food in exchange, a new chance to live," she said without breaking eye contact. I hesitated, feeling like I was selling my soul to another ruthless ruler. The Guardians were the Lycans, and the worst of them all was their leader, Aldric, the "Specter Slayer," whom all werewolves considered their king, though he didn’t seem to care about the title. "I don't have all day. Are you coming or not?" she pressed. "Housekeeper, this woman is a stranger… how can she enter the castle with the Guardians? We don't know her intentions—" "I don't care why you entered these cursed lands. Your past stays behind if you accept my offer. But if you betray me or plot anything behind my back, slitting your throat will be the least of my punishments," the woman threatened, leaving me with only a second to decide. Live or die. Start anew in a strange place, possibly filled with more humiliation and suffering—or die now and end my miserable existence. "I'll go with you. I accept the job," I finally chose to survive. * The Golden Moon pack was located in a valley, surrounded by dense forest with thick fog, and perched atop a hill in the distance was an imposing ancient stone castle. We traveled there in a carriage, rolling along cobblestone streets. This pack was massive, far more powerful than my former one. I remained silent the entire way, my black hair always hiding the scars on my face, my head bowed, not wanting to draw attention. The enormous ebony doors opened, carved stone walls rising tall and powerful, with strange statues perched on the dark eaves. At last, we arrived at an inner courtyard, and I stepped down from the carriage with some discomfort. I stared at the looming castle, half-shrouded in mist, more nightmarish than inviting. "Come. I'll give you your uniform and show you your room," she ordered, and I followed her inside. The moment we crossed the entrance, we were greeted by a massive hall. A chandelier filled with candles hung in the center, illuminating the spiraling staircases that seemed to stretch endlessly upward. I was distracted for a moment, staring at the glossy black-and-white marble floor, when something seemed to fall from the ceiling. BAM! I stumbled back, startled, barely containing a scream of pure panic as a woman's corpse crashed at my feet. She was headless, and blood still gushed from her severed neck, staining the entire floor—and even my legs. The head rolled down next; lifeless eyes frozen in a horrified expression. I looked up, trembling, and at the top of the stairs, a pair of gray, lupine, savage eyes stared back at me for a few seconds, chilling my blood to the core. C4 TAKING OUT THEIR LOVERS VALERIA His entire demeanor screamed, I'm the damn master of everything here, the absolute ruler. I immediately lowered my head, trembling. It didn’t matter that I lacked an inner she-wolf— the power radiating from that man felt like it could suffocate you, crush your soul, and he wasn't even standing that close to me. He was a Lycan, the superior species of werewolves, the ultimate evolution, and I was almost certain this was the most powerful of them all—Aldric Thorne, the Lycan King. "Sasha, take out the trash and make sure my next personal maid isn’t a scheming one, or she'll lose more than her head," his deep, cold, and intimidating voice echoed, followed by the sound of footsteps retreating. "This is a disaster. That's the fifth one in two months. I don’t know what goes through these girls' heads. I warned them," the housekeeper muttered as she approached, pulling a small vial from the dead woman’s hand. "Another one who tried to please the King thinking she could be different and rise. Brainless. I'll call a servant to take her away. And your first task begins now—clean up this mess." And so, my work in the Lycan King's castle began. The first lesson I learned: never, ever try to mess with that dangerous man, or you'll end up headless. Unfortunately, I soon found myself on the razor's edge again. * Sasha introduced me to the staff, a group of she-wolves and wolves working in the castle, attending to the Guardians. They all stared at me as if they were looking at a monster. I didn’t care—I just wanted to keep existing and stay invisible. "The Guardians"—that’s what they called the five Lycans who lived in this ancient, dark castle. They enforced the laws of our world, or at least those affecting werewolves, maintaining balance with other supernatural creatures. They delivered justice, protection, and punishment—often in the most brutal, merciless ways. Especially the Lycan King. At least, that's what I had always heard. I was forbidden from climbing the stairs or wandering beyond the service quarters. And honestly, I didn’t plan to try. I focused on working and healing with the medicine the housekeeper gave me. The food here was good too. Except for the first day, I had gone three days without seeing any of the other Guardians. Until this morning. * "Hey, I heard the housekeeper saying she still hasn’t found a suitable candidate for the King's maid. Maybe she'll give us a chance." I was scrubbing the floor on my knees, listening to the whispers echoing through the castle's massive kitchen. My head stayed down, and my long black bangs nearly covered my eyes, helping to conceal the disfigurement on my face. My hands kept moving the cloth over the tiles, but ignoring the gossip was impossible. Suddenly, the room went silent. Heels echoed from the hallway, and tension filled the air— it was the housekeeper. "Stop what you're doing. I want all of you in a line," she ordered, her voice sharp. The cooks, maids, and even me—the lowly cleaner—all lined up like prisoners, standing side by side. She began her inspection, passing each trembling figure, heads bowed low. When her shadow passed in front of me, I thought she would move on. She didn’t. "What was your name again?" she asked. "Valeria, ma'am," I replied softly. Her cold finger pressed beneath my chin, forcing me to raise my head. My blue eyes met her intimidating green gaze. "Good. I think I'll try a different strategy this time. Come with me," she ordered, and a sense of dread twisted in my chest. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the stares from the other women in the line. Bitter glares filled with jealousy, anger, envy. Nothing good. That much was certain. "Listen carefully, Valeria. You're going to be King Aldric's personal maid," she dropped the bombshell casually, as if it were nothing, walking toward the other side of the kitchen. "Do you know how to cook, iron, organize a man’s things, his clothes, and so on?" "Y-yes, ma'am. But… I don’t think I'm the right choice for the position. Perhaps someone more—" "It's not optional," she cut me off, turning abruptly. "You either accept it, or you leave. I don't need a floor cleaner right now. I need a maid for the King. Understood?" I had no choice but to nod. Sometimes, I forgot that this harsh woman had saved my life. Though, honestly, I still didn’t know why—especially now that she was sending me straight into the Lycan's den. "Memorize everything I'm about to say. The King wakes up at… He doesn’t like… Prefers it this way… And his meals are only prepared by the cook from this section. Make sure it’s always her… And you must taste it before serving him." She paced through the kitchen, the laundry area, practically the entire service zone, listing the King's preferences and dislikes. I followed, my brain nearly short-circuiting from the overwhelming information. I need to write all this down later! "Alright. You'll deliver his first breakfast now. Do exactly as I tell you,” she said, placing a silver tray full of covered dishes in my hands. "And Valeria… remember, head down. Stay invisible. You're nothing but a piece of furniture." "And I trust you haven't forgotten the scene from your first day here. If you try anything against the King, believe me, he was merciful with that woman." Her warning made me swallow hard as I nodded. I didn’t consider myself a coward, but it felt like I was marching straight to the gallows as I climbed the forbidden stairs, moving through the dim candlelit corridors leading to the Guardian leader's quarters. I reached the only door in this wing—an enormous wooden door with intricate carvings—and tried to recall every instruction. "Don't knock at this hour. Go straight inside." So, I did. Balancing the tray carefully, I twisted the heavy doorknob. Step by step, I entered the den of the big bad wolf, avoiding unnecessary glances around. I immediately noticed the large wooden table at the center, the dim lighting, and I focused on setting the breakfast properly. But then I heard it—and smelled it. The scent of lust. Through my bangs, I glanced toward a black door, slightly ajar. Muffled female moans seeped through, despite being closed. More than one woman’s voice. The rhythmic sound of something hitting a wall echoed. Maybe the bed—I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. The most important rule: head down, stay invisible. Don't speak. Don't look. Don't listen. I was so focused on remembering every detail of his preferences, circling the table, that I didn’t even notice when the sounds stopped. "Who are you?" a dominant voice behind me made me flinch. My trembling fists tightened, and I turned, staring down at the gray rug. "Your Majesty, my name is Valeria. I am your new maid," I managed without stuttering. A massive shadow loomed over me, every instinct screaming danger, run—but I stood firm as he placed a finger beneath my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. I expected disgust at my scarred face. Instead, I saw fierce, intimidating gray eyes studying me—so captivating they resembled lethal steel. "Where's your inner wolf?" he asked, frowning. How had he noticed with just one glance? "I… I’m not entirely sure, sir. I suffered a traumatic experience before I turned eighteen, and her spirit never appeared. But… I can shift into my wolf form. Others say it's a curse." I added quickly, half-expecting to be dismissed on my first day. Scarred, cursed—what a perfect maid. "Is that why your face hasn't healed?" he asked, his voice calm but piercing. "I suppose so, sir. My healing is… slower than others." He said nothing, but his intense scrutiny made my skin crawl. Did I say the wrong thing? I avoided lingering on his rugged features, but it was becoming clear why so many women risked losing their heads just for a night in his bed. Aldric Thorne was a man built for sin. A towering figure, nearly two meters tall, with a powerful, scarred body, bold and commanding. Muscular, rough, impossibly attractive. And despite his icy aura, his long shoulder-length hair was deep crimson, just like his short beard—like fire, like blood he could spill without flinching. "I don't care about your peculiarities, but I do expect you to have understood the rules clearly because I won't tolerate disobedience or tricks," he warned me, his voice dangerously low and guttural. I nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes, your maje—" "And call me Sir. I don't like that Your Majesty nonsense," he clarified, finally releasing me and walking toward the other side of the room. I exhaled, realizing I had been holding my breath the entire time. Yet, I could still catch that scent lingering from his skin, something like aged wine—rich, and intoxicating. Could it be some cologne? I couldn't detect the pheromones of werewolves like others could. "They'll be here soon to collect those women. Make sure they leave and clean up everything," he ordered without even sparing me a glance, then disappeared through a door leading to what seemed like another room. I remained standing there in the dim light, frozen for a moment. Then, clenching my fists, I gathered my resolve and moved to deal with his lovers still in bed. I opened the door and stared in shock at the chaotic scene inside. The room was dimly lit, clothes strewn across the floor, and in the center, three women lay sprawled. The heavy scent filled the air, making it hard to breathe. "Umm… ladies, it's time to leave," I said softly, but none of them reacted, their eyes shut as if completely oblivious. They looked exhausted, their bodies marked with bites, bruises, and a mess of fluids staining their thighs. "The King ordered you to leave. You need to—" "Shut up, you annoying brat!" snarled the blonde lying in the middle of the two brunettes, even throwing a pillow at me, which I narrowly dodged. Well, they still have some energy left, it seems. Okay, this wasn’t going as smoothly as I had imagined, and they were already settling back down as if planning to sleep there. Aren't they uncomfortable covered in all that… stuff? But I couldn't fail my first task. I knew he had done this on purpose—to test me. I headed to the bathroom, filled a basin with cold water, and placed it near the bed. Rolling up my sleeves, exposing my pale arms, I then walked over to the massive crimson curtains, grabbed the heavy fabric, and yanked them open with force. "Aaaahh! Close it, right now! Close the curtain!" they screeched like the possessed, even though the sky was overcast. The sun never really shone brightly here—this land was always cloaked in thick fog. Grabbing the basin, I lifted it and—splash! —drenched them in icy water to snap them out of it. "Have you lost your damn mind, maid?!" C5 THE KING'S MAID VALERIA "Aahh, it’s horrible, she’s deformed!" "You’re just jealous, that’s why you want to keep us away from the King!" "The Lord has said you must leave now," I repeated impassively, while they hurled insults at me. But I felt nothing—not cold, not heat. I thought about how to get them out since, weakened or not, there were three of them and only one of me. Just then, loud knocks echoed from the side door leading to the hallway, a door I hadn’t even noticed before. It had to be the person sent to remove them from the castle. I walked over and opened it, revealing two sturdy servants who entered without a word. The women began to resist, screaming that their bodies were only for the King, threatening that our heads would roll. I didn’t need to be here long to see through their lies. That man had used them like disposable objects and was now discarding them like trash. The blonde rushed toward the door leading to the dining hall, but I stepped in front of her, standing firm and blocking her way. "Have some dignity and leave already. The King has ordered it. Don’t risk dying." "I want him to tell me himself! Last night, he showed me otherwise! Get out of my way!" she lunged at me, baring her fangs. I defended myself, grabbing her arms mid-air as we struggled. Her long claws scratched me in her fury, and I knew I could control her because, right now, she was weak. This she-wolf was stronger than me—honestly, anyone was stronger than me. With the help of the servants, we managed to drag the last crazed woman out of the room. I shut the door, breathing heavily. "Quite the first day on the job," I muttered in resignation, staring at the disaster I now had to clean. * I wiped the sweat from my forehead, taking a moment to catch my breath, surveying the nearly tidy room. The worst part was the bed. Even after removing the dirty sheets, I had gone overboard with the water. So, I thought of pushing the mattress closer to the window to let it air out and catch some sun. "Mmnn," I grunted, yanking at the heavy king-size mattress, my hands trembling. I doubted I could move it. I kept struggling when— "How many centuries does it take you to organize a room?" His voice startled me—I hadn’t heard him enter. I turned to apologize, but a wrong step, my nerves, and apparently a sticky substance I’d left on the floor caused me to lose my balance and fall forward. By instinct, I grabbed onto the first thing I could, falling to my knees with my eyes shut tight. Something had slipped from my hands, and now another thing, thick, brushed against my nose. A dark, musky, intoxicating scent assaulted my senses. When I opened my eyes again and saw the sight before me, I wished I could die right there without needing him to kill me. In my hands was a black towel—I assumed it had been around the King's hips—and I was on my knees, clutching his powerful thighs, with a massive, veiny member right in front of my wide eyes. «Girl, this could make you cry» was the first thing that crossed my mind in my nervous breakdown. And to think it was only half... not even Dorian’s compared in detail. "Should I fetch a tape measure so you can size it up too?" His cold voice snapped me out of my frozen state. Terrified, I raised my gaze to see him completely naked, in all his glory, his burgundy hair loose and tousled, damp from the shower, and I could swear his gray eyes held a mocking glint. "Your Majesty, I’m so sorry! Please, spare the life of this humble servant who doesn’t deserve your mercy!" I threw myself to the ground, pressing my forehead against the hard surface, begging him. What I had done was unforgivable. By the Goddess, I had even stayed there... staring at it. His threatening shadow loomed over my trembling body. I clenched my eyes shut, bracing for the end. "I’ll leave right away... I beg you... I’ll leave the castle... please..." "I don’t have the patience to find a new servant every day. You leave when I decide so. Now get up." His deep voice rumbled close to my ear, and I felt him tugging at the towel I still clutched in my hands. I released it immediately, sweat trailing down my back as my entire body trembled. "Besides, if you’re going to serve me, it won’t be the last time you see it. It’s not a big deal. Come to the dining room," he added before his bare footsteps echoed away from the room. Swallowing nervously, I stood on shaky legs. «Come on, Valeria, focus, please. » "Try the breakfast," he ordered, gesturing to the food set on the table. He sat, dominating the large chair, observing my every move. I picked up the fork and cut a small piece from each dish, tasting everything bite by bite. "If something is not to your liking, I can ask the kitchen to—" "That won’t be necessary. Everything’s fine," he interrupted and then fell silent. I kept my gaze on the floor, unsure of what he was waiting for, frantically reviewing every rule in my mind. "Do you think I’m a savage who eats with his hands?" "What? No, no, Your Maj... Sir..." I quickly lifted my gaze and saw him glancing at the fork still in my hand. Holy Goddess, I had covered the only utensil with saliva! The housekeeper hadn’t mentioned I had to taste the food here too! "I... I’ll get another, I’m so sorry—" "You seem to apologize well," he said as he took the fork from my hand. "It’s dirty, I... I ate with it—" I didn’t finish because he wiped it with a napkin and began eating calmly. I stepped back, standing in the corner, awaiting his orders. Through my bangs, I occasionally stole glances at him. He looked relaxed wearing just the towel, eating and reviewing some documents beside him. No matter what the Lycan King did, his aggressive aura filled the entire space, demanding only obedience and submission. This was my new master. And honestly, I was starting to wonder if I’d be better off running far away from this castle... and this pack. Aldric Thorne was the most dangerous thing I could have crossed paths with. *** Days passed, and despite my rookie mistakes, I managed to survive. The Lord wasn’t constantly present at the castle either—he often traveled between packs or faced dangerous situations. I hadn’t even seen the other “Guardians” until one morning. "Phew, I honestly don’t know how you handle the pressure and temptation," said Juliette. She was the only staff member who had approached me. An extroverted, cheerful girl. I didn’t consider her a friend, though—I'd never trust a woman like that again. But at least her chatter kept me entertained. We were walking through the underground corridor carrying laundry baskets when a side door leading to one of the many training gyms opened. A massive Lycan emerged. I knew by the powerful aura he projected. We immediately lowered our heads, waiting for him to pass, but his steps approached us instead. "Are these clean towels?" asked a strong but calm male voice. "Yes, yes, Sir," I answered, realizing I was the one carrying them. I glanced up for a second. Enchanting golden eyes stared back at me. I quickly lowered my gaze to the carpet and handed him a towel, but as he reached out, our fingers brushed for a moment. His touch was warm. Despite being intimidating, this Lycan projected a protective aura—not as sharp and wild as the King's. "I’m sorry... I’m so sorry—" "Relax, it’s fine. Thank you," he replied, taking the towel and walking away down the hallway. And then I dared to look at his back. Blond hair, massive like all Lycans, powerful, his muscular, sweaty back glistening, dressed in black combat gear. It seemed like he had been training. For some reason, the combination of his eyes and hair reminded me a bit of Dorian. I didn’t want to remember him at all, but the mind could be a traitor. He had been the first—and only—man I’d loved. "Right? He’s so handsome! I mean, they’re all attractive and hot, but for me, the best ones are the King and Guardian Quinn... Though the King, ugh, that man is pure fire. I’m torn—what do you think, Valeria? Would you prefer the King or Quinn?" Before I could scold her for talking so carelessly, her face turned pale, staring behind me in panic. A powerful presence pressed against my back, hot breath brushing against my ear. "I’d like to know too, Valeria. Who would you prefer? And why did you let another man touch what’s mine?" The basket in my hands begins to tremble along with my hands. I'm done for. And even though I know he’s talking about the towels, for some reason, it feels like he’s talking about me. "Ss… Sir..." "Get out!" he ordered Juliette, who looked at me for a second with guilt but had no choice but to flee almost running. I remained with my back to him. Could I run too? "I'm still waiting, Valeria. Tell me, are you unhappy with the position you were given? Would you prefer to be Quinn's personal maid instead? Turn around!"	LEARN_MORE	https://befant.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18151&u	Galaxy in the Story	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	2,414	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more		befant.com	VIDEO		https://befant.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18151&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/t39.35426-6/476229421_1136177071634238_187864606437170259_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xvYMfTqn9nQQ7kNvgGeRXFL&_nc_oc=Adig6uQmJiJ3jzGay62vPjcqfObTVc_00o9b2kP6EKuBbpSSQ9tOZAkxG7FOcpxJgnA&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AM-IiibpyT2bQy24R0aY0WE&oh=00_AYAB1SJwBDf1X5aoA7AtuEaBrIdC0GXVmCNXzS7JrEXmXQ&oe=67C2E985	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Galaxy in the Story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
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2,691,277	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2691247}'	Yes	2025-02-24 19:42	active	2625	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	"Can you share Nash’s contact info with me?" The girl who was well-known around campus lightly poked my arm. Near the classroom window, a figure came into view. It was 17-year-old Nash Xander. I suddenly snapped back to my senses, clutching my chest and gasping for breath. "What's the matter with you?" The person who poked me was my desk mate, Yvonne Quinn, who had just transferred here a week ago and was crowned as the most beautiful girl on campus. In my previous life, she had been just as carefree and self-assured, declaring, "Give me his contact info, and I'll have him in a week." Back then, I had dismissed it as mere boasting. But that very evening, I witnessed her seated on the table, sharing a kiss with Nash. The plaster statue that should have been on the table tumbled to the ground, breaking into pieces. I was reborn! I found myself transported back to a time when tragedies hadn’t unfolded yet. I clenched my hands, battling to suppress the quiver in my voice. "Sure, I'll send you on WhatsApp." In my previous life, I hadn't given her Nash’s contact info, and she had held a grudge against me for quite a while. After a straightforward operation on my phone, I set it aside. "Alright, if there’s nothing else, I should get back to my studies." Yvonne added Nash on WhatsApp while inquiring, "Studying again? Aren't you curious why I said I wanted to win him over? Aren't you secretly infatuated with him?" My heart constricted. At the age of seventeen, I had made two grave mistakes. First, I harbored a secret affection for Nash but lacked the courage to confess it. Second, I reported his relationship with Yvonne, which resulted in him being sent abroad. Thus, he held a deep-seated grudge against me, a hatred that endured for eight long years. He was even willing to destroy me, all to exact revenge for what had transpired back then. Recalling that humiliating night, a wave of nausea washed over me. "No, you've got it all wrong. I've never secretly crushed on him," I asserted, raising my head and locking eyes with Yvonne, my expression deadly serious. My earnest response caught Yvonne off guard, and she slyly curled her lips. "Well, now that you've said that, I can breathe easy. I wasn't sure how to tell you about me and Nash, afraid it might upset you." In my previous life, Yvonne had displayed the same audacious confidence. Yvonne was stunning, possessing a well-proportioned, tall frame, flawless fair skin, and striking facial features that radiated even without makeup. Among our rather ordinary-looking group of students, she was the most dazzling rose. Yvonne had earned the moniker of a "campus heartbreaker" – she had dated practically every good-looking guy in the school. Her personality matched her appearance, passionate and outgoing. While others anxiously studied for exams, she was drinking, partying, and skipping classes. She didn't fit the mold of a conventional "good girl." However, for those who didn’t dare to defy conventions, she exuded a deadly allure. Nash was one of those who couldn't resist her charm. I recalled the moments just before my death in my previous life. I gripped the cuff of Nash’s white shirt, telling him, "Nash, you shouldn't treat me like this, even if you despise me. Seeking revenge in this manner isn't right." As his cuff slipped from my grasp, my arm bore permanent scars from smoke burns and a curling iron. Nash peered down at me with a patronizing smirk. "So, what's your suggestion then? If it weren't for you, Yvonne wouldn't have married someone else, and she wouldn't have met her end in that underground clinic." "You played a part in her demise, and yet, you have the nerve to ask for my forgiveness?" "Wendy Carter, you're incredibly naive." Yes, in my previous life, I had confided in Mr. and Mrs. Xander about Nashi's relationship with Yvonne. It led to Nash being forced to go abroad, while Yvonne, entangled in a love affair, failed SAT. She graduated shortly after and became involved with a punk. She became conceived out of wedlock, and her boyfriend abandoned her, with her parents also neglecting her. In desperation, Yvonne sought a surgery at an underground clinic but didn't survive the procedure. Nash firmly believed that if I hadn't disclosed their relationship to his parents, he wouldn't have left the country, and Yvonne wouldn't have met her tragic end. I was the root cause of it all. I smiled warmly and offered my best wishes, saying, "That's wonderful! I wish you both a lifetime of happiness and love." Yvonne glanced at me with a hint of puzzlement but remained silent. As time passed, Nash and Yvonne carried on their secret romance. They were just like any other couple, skipping classes to catch movies, adorning their ears with flashy jewelry, sharing kisses on the Ferris wheel, and racing through the streets on motorcycles. Yvonne was introducing Nash to all the experiences he had missed in his previous life. Their carefree existence didn't quite fit the mold of typical students. Perhaps they had forgotten that they were still in school. I observed it all from a distance, choosing not to be silly enough to report them to Mr. and Mrs. Xander. I had a busy schedule preparing for SAT. In my previous life, under Nash’s influence, I had enrolled in the same high school as him and pursued an art major. I had even resolved to specialize in the same field as Nash, willingly becoming his shadow. However, things were different now. I had decided to switch from being an art student to a regular one. I was preparing to take SAT and carve out my own path. Chapter 0002 This path was undeniably challenging, but regardless of how tough it might get, I was determined to give it a shot. I had faith in myself! I overheard Yvonne boasting to someone, "Oh, come on, Nash is just a guy others hype up. In reality, he doesn't know anything; he's just a bit of an art geek. "On that note, if it weren't for the fact that he's participated in so many competitions, his reputation, and the fact that he's reasonably good-looking, who would be willing to be with him?" A fellow classmate chimed in, "Cut it out, Yvonne. If you're going to brag, at least be realistic. He's a top student. Do you really think he'd be interested in you? You're probably just a fun distraction for him because you have the reputation of being a campus hottie." Yvonne snorted, "You guys are just jealous. Who cares if he's a top student? I can win him over anytime. "To prove whether he's genuinely interested in me or not, that's simple. Just wait and see." The classmate added, "I heard he's about to participate in an international art competition. If you're as talented as you claim, why don't you try to stop him from going?" I sat right beside her, fully aware of how crucial this competition was for Nash and how much effort he had invested in it. As expected, even without my interference, the pivotal moments from my previous life were unfolding once again. In my previous life, I knew that Yvonne was dating Nash casually. I tried dropping hints to Nash a few times, but he always believed I was trying to stir trouble and ruin their relationship. So, after much hesitation, I chose to inform his parents. Due to their intervention, things escalated significantly. Nash and Yvonne were compelled to break up. Nash's mother kept a watchful eye on him during the competition, but due to his less-than-optimal condition, he missed out on the first-place prize. Not long after, his parents sent him overseas. He harbored a grudge against me for many years, a grudge so deep that he was willing to destroy me in that manner. As I regained my composure, Yvonne was already standing directly in front of me. She casually rested her arm on my shoulder and asked, "Wendy, you're not going to rat us out, are you?" I lowered my head, opened my book, and made a solemn promise, "Don't worry, I didn't catch a word of it." In my previous life, Nash himself imparted a lesson to me: to let go of playing the hero and to respect the destinies of others. The first time I encountered Nash after my rebirth was right at my doorstep. It marked our initial meeting since my reincarnation. Reflecting on his actions towards me in my prior life, my palms couldn't help but break out in a cold sweat. I suppressed my revulsion and glanced down. Empty cans were scattered on the ground, and he still held an unfinished beer can in his hand. When he noticed me, he swiftly rose from the ground, his eyes bloodshot, and he clutched my shoulder. "Wendy, aren't you in the same class as Yvonne? Could you do me a favor and get in touch with her? She wants to break up with me. "I can't bear to let her go. She doesn't like me drawing, and I can give up drawing. Please convey to her that I'll stop drawing. Can you do that for me? "I'm really out of options. I love her, and I can't bear to lose her. I'm willing to sacrifice anything for her." I silently gazed at the disheveled young man before me, reeking of wine. He had lost the radiance he once had. He appeared different from the Nash I remembered. His hands had always been well-proportioned and well-kept; he cherished them dearly. He once said he was grateful to the heavens for blessing him with hands capable of crafting captivating works of art. He took great pleasure in the process of turning landscapes and people into art with his adept touch. However, now his hands, once meticulously maintained, were smeared with dirt, and yet, he remained oblivious to it all. In his eyes, no one could hold a candle to Yvonne anymore. I couldn't help but shake my head. Indeed, the unattainable Nash that I used to admire could only exist in memories; even if the actual Nash himself were to appear now, it wouldn’t work. Chapter 0003 "Wendy, why aren't you speaking? Are you willing to help me or not?" Seeing Nash's hopeful expression, I pulled out my phone and dialed Yvonne's number. Willing? Of course, why wouldn't I be? How else would I get to witness this drama unfold? "Yvonne, Nash has passed out drunk at my doorstep, shouting your name. Can you come over for a moment?" Nash stared anxiously at the phone, barely taking a breath. Yvonne chuckled and asked me, "What does it have to do with me if he's passed out at your doorstep? You must have called the wrong person." Nash's face grew even paler by the moment. These two couldn't break up, so I immediately stepped in. "Yvonne, did you two have an argument? Couples don't break up after just one fight. Why not hear Nash out or let him apologize to you? Yvonne scoffed, "Apologize? There's no need for an apology. If you want me to stay with him, ask him if he's truly willing to do anything for me." I switched on the speakerphone, and as soon as Nash heard Yvonne say that, he immediately nodded in a panic. "Yes, Yvonne, I'm willing to do anything for you. I'm sorry, it's my fault for making you upset." Yvonne appeared satisfied, "Good then. In that case, don't go to the competition." After that, she abruptly hung up the phone. Nash stared at my phone in bewilderment. I observed Nash, curious to see how he would choose in this life without my intervention. Nash stood there, rigid and with his head bowed. I understood that matters of love and dreams could be quite complex. After a while, he lifted his head with a bitter smile and asked, "Wendy, does giving up the competition prove how important she is to me?" He posed the question to me, but I sensed he already knew the answer in his heart. I didn't have much to add, considering my previous life's experiences. I watched as his despondent figure slowly receded from view, step by step. Indeed, Nash didn't participate in the competition due to an injury on his hand. Something must have happened after leaving my place, as a substantial abrasion had appeared on the back of his hand. Even the slightest movement caused it to bleed. I couldn't help but admire the power of love, driving him to self-sacrifice to honor his promise to his girlfriend. Their reconciliation was nothing short of a miracle. They walked home hand in hand, enjoying sweet and happy moments every day. Nash no longer displayed the despair of that night; instead, his eyes radiated tenderness and affection for the girl at his side. As they strolled past the alley they used to take on their way home, Yvonne exhaled the smoke slowly into Nash's face. He lovingly caressed her hair, then leaned in to kiss her deeply. He placed his arm around her waist and walked into a nearby internet cafe. Once inside, a group of local young people greeted him, and he engaged in a lively conversation. I shook my head, turned away, and became a complete bystander. It wasn't until Nash's mother found us in our classroom that everything changed. Mrs. Xander was a well-known fashion designer, and she had always been kind and gentle. In my memory, she never had any conflicts with anyone, giving the impression of a very contented life. Mr. Xander’s company had also been quite successful, which was why in my previous life, when Nash took over the company, he had the power to place me in the bed of a business partner. Nash excelled in his academic subjects, and he had remarkable talent in art as well. He was what parents often referred to as the "golden child" who excelled in everything. His parents never pressured him to focus solely on academics; they fully supported his pursuit of interests and hobbies. Nash certainly lived up to their expectations, winning numerous awards over the years. Upon high school graduation, he received acceptance letters from prestigious foreign universities. This competition was his gateway to a prestigious art school. Nash could have enjoyed a splendid life, basking in the limelight and receiving applause and flowers from everyone. However, he willingly chose to forgo all that glory and opted to rot in the gutter with Yvonne. Chapter 0004 Mrs. Xander walked in followed by our homeroom teacher, her face stern and icy. "Who is Yvonne?" she demanded, her sharp gaze scanning the room. None of the students dared to make a sound. Yvonne, seated next to me, furrowed her brow and swiftly tapped a few times on her phone, then stood up calmly. "That would be me. How may I help you?" Mrs. Xander scrutinized Yvonne from head to toe with her slender brows furrowed. Yvonne's face gradually turned red, and she appeared somewhat flustered. "It's you, the one who's dating my son every day, leading him into mischief?" Yvonne instinctively denied it, but before she could say more, Mrs. Xander slapped her across the face. "Your tricks won't work with me. Do you think I don't know what you're up to? You're so young, yet so cunning!" Yvonne, with a red mark from Mrs. Xander's five fingers on her beautiful face, stared in disbelief at Mrs. Xander and shouted loudly, "You old witch, who gave you the right to hit me?" Mrs. Xander coldly chuckled, "I have every right, especially when you, at such a young age, deliberately seduced my son. He used to be such a well-behaved child, but now, because of you, he's drinking, getting into fights, and defying his parents. If you want to ruin yourself, go ahead, but why drag my son down with you?" Yvonne was a popular figure at school, and she couldn't tolerate being accused of seducing someone. "Well-behaved? Ha, old witch, Nash is a human being, an independent thinker. How dare you use 'well-behaved' to describe him as if he were a dog." Yvonne argued vehemently. Mrs. Xander was so furious that her chest heaved up and down. She grabbed Yvonne's hair and began pulling. "My son, my rules. It's my choice how I want to raise him. It's none of your business." Nash finally arrived, pushing Mrs. Xander aside and protecting Yvonne. Our homeroom teacher managed to restrain Mrs. Xander, who was now panting heavily. "Mom, what are you doing? It's my choice to be with Yvonne so hit me instead. "Withdrawing from the competition was my own decision; it has nothing to do with Yvonne." Mrs. Xander never expected her obedient and sensible son to openly defy her for a girl who clearly had ulterior motives. She trembled with anger, swayed a bit, and our homeroom teacher hurriedly supported her. "Mom..." Nash hadn't expected his mother to be so upset. Seeing Mrs. Xander's unsteady steps, he worriedly called out to her. "Don't call me 'Mom.' I don't have such a disobedient and unfilial son like you." Mrs. Xander raised her hand and slapped Nash. She pointed at me, standing among the crowd. "You want to date? Your dad and I never stopped you, but at least find a decent girl like Wendy. Wake up and see what kind of person she is. Are you trying to drive me and your dad to an early grave?" I stood there, feeling unexpectedly singled out. This hadn't happened in my previous life. Mrs. Xander had never come to the school, and even when she later found out about Nash and Yvonne's early romance, they had chosen to send Nash abroad discreetly, cutting off their contact. Something must have happened this time to make Mrs. Xander react so irrationally and embarrass both of them publicly. Since Mrs. Xander mentioned my name, everyone's eyes turned to me. Yvonne, seemingly realizing something, stared at me with sudden anger. "Wendy, it's you! You're the one who told on us!" "You promised me you wouldn't snitch on us. Why would you do this? What do you gain from it?" Nash, too, looked at me with a mixture of caution and annoyance. I shrugged. "This has nothing to do with me. I told you I wouldn't get involved in your affairs, and I've kept my word. If you want to argue, can you at least do it outside? It's affecting everyone's studying here. Also, Mrs. Xander, please clarify that I didn't inform on you." However, Yvonne was convinced that I was the informer. "Enough of this arguing. I'm the one who told Mrs. Xander. Calm down, and if you have any issues, discuss them in my office. Don't disrupt the other students here," our homeroom teacher said, rubbing her temples. We followed our homeroom teacher to her office. It was class time, so there was no one else inside. Mrs. Xander, still furious, was seated by our homeroom teacher. "If our homeroom teacher hadn't told me, how long were you planning to hide this from me? All the things you've done behind my back, how do you plan to explain them to me and your dad?" Mrs. Xander glared at Nash. Chapter 0005 "Alright, talk to your child calmly," our homeroom teacher said, pouring a cup of tea for Mrs. Xander and patting her hand. Our homeroom teacher and Mrs. Xander were old classmates and had a very close relationship. With her soothing words, Mrs. Xander managed to restrain her anger. Both Mrs. Xander and our homeroom teacher confirmed that the information didn't come from me, and I finally cleared my name. "Now that it's not my problem, I'll head back to the classroom. There are so many practice papers I haven't finished." The college entrance exam was approaching, and I had to make the most of my time. However, I had underestimated the gossip mills in our school. This incident became widely known. While teenage romances were not uncommon, and some even involved parents and the school, this one attracted unparalleled attention. I heard that Mrs. Xander gave them two choices that day. Either Nash would go abroad, or Yvonne would transfer to another school. Yvonne thought she could easily get into an art school with her looks and figure, which was why she dared to be so reckless in her relationship with Nash. She certainly wouldn't transfer schools for Nash; she hadn't fallen in love with him that deeply yet. Tears welled up in Yvonne's eyes as she hid behind Nash, feeling wronged. "Don't worry, Yvonne, I'll protect you." Nash probably felt responsible for Yvonne's humiliation by his mother. When Nash was taken home by Mrs. Xander, another intense argument erupted. To express his determination to be with Yvonne, Nash even smashed his beloved easel and went on a hunger strike in protest. I saw Nash a week later. It was the first sunny day in two months. I happened to catch a glimpse of him sitting by the window, painting. Since being with Yvonne, he had rarely touched a paintbrush. He would discard a painting even before it took shape. In the middle of the night, the piercing sound of an ambulance tore through the silence. My parents heard it and rushed next door to help. I saw Mr. Xander carrying Nash on his back, and Mrs. Xander was sobbing behind them. Nash's right hand hung in front of Mr. Xander, and blood was dripping down one drop at a time. "Quick, get him into the ambulance, Mr. Xander, I'll give you a hand." My dad rushed up, supporting the unconscious Nash on Mr. Xander's back, and they hurried towards the ambulance. Nash, pale as a ghost, lay on his father's shoulder, a victorious smile in his eyes. As he passed by me, he chuckled and said something. "In this lifetime, I'll live for Yvonne. Wendy, don't obstruct me, or you know what'll happen." In that moment, it felt like a bucket of icy water had been poured over me, and I stood frozen in place, feeling a chilling dread. Nash's tendons in his hand were severed, and while the discovery was made quickly and his life was not in danger, his hand was rendered useless. Mr. and Mrs. Xander had no choice but to agree to let the two of them be together. Nash could never pick up a paintbrush again, but he didn't mind it one bit. When someone asked, he would proudly display the long scar on his wrist, boasting, "This is proof of my love for Yvonne, this is my youth!" But only I knew that those hands of his could have painted unique works of art. He could have been in the halls filled with an artistic atmosphere, enjoying the admiring glances of everyone. After Mrs. Xander's visit to the school, Yvonne moved to the seat farthest away from me. The two of them were now openly together. I heard there were a few breakups in between, but each time, Nash went and coaxed her back. As for Yvonne, she simply assumed herself to be part of the Xander family. After witnessing Mrs. Xander's wealth and extravagance, and dissatisfied with her own modest circumstances, Yvonne often asked Nash for expensive gifts that students couldn't afford. However, Nash was determined to be with her. Disappointed, Mr. and Mrs. Xander cut off Nash's allowance. Nash had already moved out of his home, and he rented a house with Yvonne off-campus. Thanks to Nash participating in various competitions over the years, he had won numerous prizes and managed to save a substantial amount from his previous allowances. For a while, they were living quite comfortably. Chapter 0006 I paid no attention to all of this and dedicated all my time to my studies. Whenever I encountered something I didn't understand, I would seek guidance from my teachers. My parents even hired a private tutor for me. After school each day, I focused on strengthening my weaker subjects. Following the second mock exam, my grades improved significantly, and I secured a place in the top ten students in the entire grade. My homeroom teacher called me into her office, his face filled with pride but tinged with a hint of regret as he patted my shoulder. "Your friendship with Nash has always been excellent. It's a shame." Another teacher chimed in, "He's such a talented student! Yet, that Yvonne doesn't seem to study at all, and she's influencing good students." I quietly left the office, passing by the hallway where I spotted Nash and Yvonne kissing. Nash, seemingly accustomed to Yvonne's playful nature. He wasn't wearing his usual white shirt but had donned a T-shirt with bold patterns, much like Yvonne's. When Yvonne noticed me, she nudged Nash and playfully raised her chin toward me. "Hey, it's your little crush. No greeting? She's in the top ten now, you know." Nash glanced at me, his gaze strangely distant, as if we had never met before. His thin lips formed two words. "Not interested." Yvonne burst into laughter. Ever since Mr. and Mrs. Xander stopped caring about Nash, he had become unrestrained. Just a few days ago, he even got into a fight with a troublemaker from our school. Coincidentally, the troublemaker happened to be Yvonne's ex-boyfriend, and he couldn't resist provoking them when he saw them together. Yvonne couldn't stand it and egged Nash on to fight the guy. Nash didn't hesitate, delivering a single punch that broke the guy's nose. Mrs. Xander came to our school for the second time. The wealthy lady, accustomed to a life of luxury, was now humbly apologizing to the teachers and parents. Nash stood silently by her side, tightly holding Yvonne's hand without uttering a word. Mrs. Xander was seething with anger, rendering her speechless. Our homeroom teacher, unable to bear it any longer, stood up and scolded Nash. "Nash, look at yourself now. You used to be such an outstanding student, how did you become so unreasonable? While your family is well-off, your parents can't protect you forever. Even if you want to date, can't you find a sensible girl? You've known Wendy since childhood, why don't you choose her instead of someone like..." The rest of her words were unkind, and as she glanced at Yvonne, who was nonchalantly chewing gum next to Nash, she frowned and swallowed the remaining words. She couldn't help but add, "Nash, this shows a lack of responsibility towards yourself!" Nash lifted his head, sarcastically remarking, "How could Wendy ever compare to Yvonne?" Our homeroom teacher slammed her hand onto the desk, exclaiming, "Wendy is currently ranked third in the class and is among the top ten students in the grade. How can you claim that she can't be compared to Yvonne?" Nash, with a blank expression, retorted, "She's just a bookworm who only knows how to study. Boring." "Yeah, teacher!" Yvonne chimed in with a laugh, hooking her arm around Nash's. "If we don't go a little crazy in our youth, what's the point?" Nash frowned irritably. "And please, can you all stop comparing me to Wendy? We don't have anything to do with each other..." He stopped mid-sentence, noticing me entering with my homework. In fact, I had been there for a while and overheard their conversation. I entered just because it was time for the next class. Silently, I placed my homework on the teacher's desk and said, "Teacher, I'm going back to class."	LEARN_MORE	https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1	Happyday	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	1,643	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more		www.qknymufd.com	VIDEO		https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=17985&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/t39.35426-6/475780479_2877643852409262_6687145381019828711_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=i6RDP7M1U80Q7kNvgEtSDkd&_nc_oc=AdhRi5hSdNC6lnTtbiAZWlnccNUD5XZziukZzDstIcJn0BGEjE7zTYb9-uG6O7opB9k&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AM-IiibpyT2bQy24R0aY0WE&oh=00_AYCnR8NRHxpT4beMH3Z5bgwy0WiO-eVhB4TvAPPusMSZRQ&oe=67C30673	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Happyday	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,691,750	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-02-24 19:42	active	2625	Read next chapter	To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blde. "You're the one who climbed into my bd back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi*ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his bdmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my bd, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in bd. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her chst. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red mrk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my bd too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You bch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame graning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... 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) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e	Popular romance stories	https://www.facebook.com/100083149047490/	18,002	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more		fbweb.moboreader.net	IMAGE		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0130-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=673595984708315&exdata=E7C53BDECE0DE88B442000C4CDE41AB3ADFC1F8CE891BBAE	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475635186_625642559958841_8542119154104872155_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=cxwvWWjED8gQ7kNvgFlP-zM&_nc_oc=AdhCDed3us315655JPjjV1hZeouSPPccAaeVLCcZK8Z49PKMHR_HZ50vkS-SdRVLfww&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ALweYHgCeLjLsHhOKKdlLAe&oh=00_AYAjHY7Tf3Sle6E0gofkZ-xovMlylxoWWddw9e6ChC7a3A&oe=67C2E954	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Popular romance stories	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
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2,693,955	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-02-25 17:24	active	2628	Read next chapter👉	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	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more		fbweb.moboreader.net	VIDEO		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65282322-fb_contact-enp26_6-1226-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=2030515880733998&exdata=E3D95798EE9F212C67AF5BEC6F22D2FFEC4679B507F1CE11	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480451342_1073888414754721_1723640997524989487_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=lf08yxN98swQ7kNvgFQR3El&_nc_oc=Adg0jN5AD9oh3-E0_dH0vc1KrB4MprOo3cTX2TNx6nbUK9XMW6MShH2_DwdcU6NblTU&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AVGHuPRvvfD1aPwtnpBS9Gi&oh=00_AYCkV5bK4BD3fsJzH8Kk-lj8tVeYEmtL_OHcDYcnZxP6Fw&oe=67C42108	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Lime novel-E	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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