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'{"alias":2767971}'
Yes 2025-03-03 19:11 active 2791 0 ๐Ÿ”žAttention! Do not read in public๏ผ๐Ÿ‘‰ "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 is 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. "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. 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, withdrawing his hands reluctantly. "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?" 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'd better leave. 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, and 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, my brother slams a hand into my stomach. "What the heck did you say to him?" "N...nothing. Well, he just asked me why I smelled funny." "Did you tell him?" 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. "Pleaseโ€ฆ." I beg. "He was an Alphaโ€ฆIโ€ฆ 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?" "It's none of your business!" Alpha Trey sputters. 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?" I see those crimson eyes land on my swollen face. "I have a proposition for you, Alpha Trey." "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? I was a nobody, no one special. "Deal." After a little more thinking, 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 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/ 3,810 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 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/t39.35426-6/475030718_2173210466431930_316780871602090203_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=G4kKFV2eOnwQ7kNvgELJhiB&_nc_oc=AdhBl85I5pbb7IT9hHSPCn2zlnJULTi2JskhoaaRgnwOwE5IaCcR8yRrFQ2y2Ozz7Y-OBdOlkAYWex13TmDixqRw&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AuCRxuqZL9PBjtr9CnWToab&oh=00_AYDtVdLxkZdy_2TlhGzrijBhNfwB6y0Y1EaBiStjcYU_Ow&oe=67CC0E60 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 New world publications 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281)
'{"alias":2768661}'
Yes 2025-03-03 19:18 active 2792 0 ์ด๊ณณ์„ ํด๋ฆญํ•˜๊ณ  ๋ฌด๋ฃŒ๋กœ ์ฝ์–ด๋ณด์„ธ์š”! ๋•Œ๋Š” ๋ฐค 11์‹œ. ํ˜•๋‹˜ ์ง‘ ์•„๋ž˜์— ์žˆ๋Š” ๊ณต์›์—์„œ ์•ผ๊ฐ„ ๋Ÿฌ๋‹์„ ํ•˜๋˜ ์ค‘, ํ’€์ˆฒ ์†์—์„œ ๋“ค๋ ค์˜ค๋Š” ๋‚จ๋…€์˜ ๋ฐ”์Šค๋ฝ ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ๋“ค๋ ค์™”๋‹ค. โ€œ์ง„๋™์„ฑ, ์„ค๋งˆ ์•ˆ ๋˜๋Š” ๊ฑฐ์•ผ? ์ง‘์—์„œ๋Š” ๋А๋‚Œ ์•ˆ ์‚ฐ๋‹ค๊ณ  ํ•ด์„œ ์—ฌ๊ธฐ๊นŒ์ง€ ์™”๋”๋‹ˆ, ์™œ ์•„์ง๋„ ์•ˆ ๋ผ?โ€ โ€˜์ €๊ฑฐ ์šฐ๋ฆฌ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜ ๋ชฉ์†Œ๋ฆฌ ์•„๋‹ˆ์•ผ?โ€™ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ทธ ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๋“ฃ์ž๋งˆ์ž ์—ฌ์ž๊ฐ€ ๋‚ด ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜ ๊ณ ํƒœ์—ฐ์ด๋ผ๋Š” ๊ฑธ ์•Œ์•„๋ฒ„๋ ธ๋‹ค. โ€˜ํ˜•๊ณผ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋ฐฅ ๋จน์œผ๋Ÿฌ ๊ฐ„๋‹ค๊ณ  ํ–ˆ๋Š”๋ฐ? ์™œ ๊ณต์› ํ’€์ˆฒ์— ์žˆ๋Š” ๊ฑฐ์ง€?โ€™ ์—ฌ์ž ์นœ๊ตฌ๋Š” ํ•œ ๋ฒˆ๋„ ์•ˆ ์‚ฌ๊ท€์–ด ๋ดค์ง€๋งŒ ๋™์˜์ƒ์€ ๊ทธ๋ž˜๋„ ๋งŽ์ด ๋ดค๋‹ค๊ณ  ์ž๋ถ€ํ•˜๊ธฐ์—, ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ณง๋ฐ”๋กœ ๋‘ ์‚ฌ๋žŒ์ด ๋ฌด์Šจ ์ง“์„ ํ•˜๋Š”์ง€ ์•Œ์•„๋ฒ„๋ ธ๋‹ค. โ€˜ํ˜•๊ณผ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜์ด ์ด๋Ÿฐ ์Šค๋ฆด์„ ์ข‹์•„ํ•  ์ค„์€ ๋ชฐ๋ž๋„ค. ๊ทธ๊ฒƒ๋„ ๊ณต์›์—์„œ.โ€™ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ๋ชฐ๋ž˜ ์—ฟ๋“ฃ๊ณ  ์‹ถ๋‹ค๋Š” ์ƒ๊ฐ์„ ์ฐธ์„ ์ˆ˜ ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ์–ผ๊ตด๋„ ์˜ˆ์˜์žฅํ•œ๋ฐ ๋ชธ๋งค๋Š” ๋” ๋๋‚ด์ค€๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ์‹ ์Œ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๋ผ๋‹ˆ ์ด๊ฑด ๊ฟˆ์— ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๋˜ ์ผ์ด์—ˆ๋‹ค. ์‚ด๊ธˆ์‚ด๊ธˆ ์ˆ˜ํ’€ ์ชฝ์œผ๋กœ ๊ฑธ์–ด๊ฐ€ ๋ชฐ๋ž˜ ๋จธ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๋‚ด๋ฐ€์—ˆ๋”๋‹ˆ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜์ด ํ˜• ์œ„์— ์•‰์•„ ์žˆ์—ˆ๋‹ค. ๋ฌผ๋ก  ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๋“ฑ์ง€๊ณ  ์žˆ์—ˆ์ง€๋งŒ ๋“ฑ ๋ผ์ธ์„ ๊ฐํƒ„ํ•  ์ˆ˜๋ฐ–์— ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ์ž…์ด ๋ฐ”์‹น ๋งˆ๋ฅด๊ณ  ์•„๋žซ๋ฐฐ์— ์—ด๊ธฐ๊ฐ€ ์˜ฌ๋ผ์™”๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ์ด๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ๋งค๋ ฅ์ ์ธ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜ ์•ž์—์„œ ํ˜•์€ ์˜ ๋งฅ์„ ๋ชป ์ท„๋‹ค. โ€œํƒœ์—ฐ์•„, ๋‚˜ ์—ฌ์ „ํžˆ ์•ˆ ๋˜๋Š”๋ฐ.โ€ ๊ทธ ๋ง์— ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋ฒ„๋Ÿญ ํ™”๋ฅผ ๋ƒˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์•ฝ๋„ ์—†๋„ค, ์ •๋ง. ์ด์ œ ๊ณ ์ž‘ ์„œ๋ฅธ๋‹ค์„ฏ์ด๋ฉด์„œ ์™œ ์ด๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ์“ธ๋ชจ๊ฐ€ ์—†์–ด? ์•ˆ ์„œ๋ฉด ์‹ธ๊ธฐ๋ผ๋„ ํ•ด์•ผ ํ•  ๊ฑฐ ์•„๋‹ˆ์•ผ. ์•„๋ฌด๊ฒƒ๋„ ์—†์œผ๋ฉด ์• ๋Š” ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ๊ฐ€์ ธ? ๊ณ„์† ์ด๋Ÿฌ๋ฉด ๋‚˜ ๋‹ค๋ฅธ ์‚ฌ๋žŒ ๋งŒ๋‚œ๋‹ค? ๋‹น์‹ ์€ ์•  ์‹ซ์„์ง€ ๋ชฐ๋ผ๋„ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์—„๋งˆ๊ฐ€ ๋˜๊ณ  ์‹ถ๋‹ค๊ณ .โ€ ์ž”๋œฉ ํ™”๊ฐ€ ๋‚œ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋ฐ”์ง€๋ฅผ ์ž…๊ณ ๋Š” ์ˆ˜ํ’€ ๋ฐ–์œผ๋กœ ๊ฑธ์–ด ๋‚˜์˜ค์ž ๋†€๋ž€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ํ—๋ ˆ๋ฒŒ๋–ก ๋„๋ง์ณค๋‹ค. ์ง‘์— ๋Œ์•„์˜จ ์ง€ ์–ผ๋งˆ ์ง€๋‚˜์ง€ ์•Š์•„ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋Œ์•„์˜ค๋Š” ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ๋“ค๋ ธ๋‹ค. โ€˜์พ…โ€™ ๋‹ซํžˆ๋Š” ๋ฌธ์†Œ๋ฆฌ์— ๋‚ด ๊ฐ€์Šด๋„ โ€˜์ฒ ๋ โ€™ ๋‚ด๋ ค์•‰์•˜๋‹ค. โ€˜๊นœ์ง ๋†€๋ž๋„ค. ํ˜•๊ณผ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜ ์‚ฌ์ด๊ฐ€ ์ด๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ์•ˆ ์ข‹์„ ์ค„์ด์•ผ.โ€™ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์†์œผ๋กœ ์ค‘์–ผ๊ฑฐ๋ฆฌ๋ฉฐ ๊ฐ€์Šด์„ ์“ธ์–ด๋‚ด๋ ธ๋‹ค. ์—ฌ์ž๋Š” ๋‚˜์ด๊ฐ€ ๋“ค์ˆ˜๋ก ์š•๊ตฌ๊ฐ€ ๋งŽ์•„์ง„๋‹ค๋”๋‹ˆ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜๋„ ์š•๊ตฌ ๋ถˆ๋งŒ์ธ ๊ฒŒ ํ‹€๋ฆผ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€˜ํ•˜๊ธด, ํ˜•์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ๋น„์‹ค๋น„์‹คํ•œ ๋ชธ์œผ๋กœ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜์„ ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ๋งŒ์กฑ์‹œํ‚ค๊ฒ ์–ด? ๋‚˜ ์ •๋„๋Š” ๋ผ์•ผ์ง€.โ€™ โ€˜ํ‰คํ‰คํ‰ค! ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ์ง€๊ธˆ ๋ฌด์Šจ ์ƒ๊ฐ์„ ํ•˜๋Š” ๊ฑฐ์•ผ? ๊ณ ํƒœ์—ฐ์€ ๋‚ด ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜์ด๋ผ๊ณ  ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ์ด๋Ÿฐ ์ƒ๊ฐ์„ ํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ์–ด?โ€™ ๋ฌผ๋ก  ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ์ง„๋™์„ฑ๊ณผ ์นœํ˜•์ œ๋Š” ์•„๋‹ˆ์ง€๋งŒ ์นœํ˜•์ œ ๋ชป์ง€์•Š๊ฒŒ ๋ˆ๋ˆํ•œ ์‚ฌ์ด๋‹ค. ํ˜•์ด ์•„๋‹ˆ์—ˆ์œผ๋ฉด ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๋Œ€ํ•™๋„ ๊ฐˆ ์ˆ˜ ์—†์—ˆ์„ ๊ฑฐ๊ณ . ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ์ด๋Ÿฐ์ €๋Ÿฐ ์ƒ๊ฐ์— ์ž ๊ฒจ ์žˆ์„ ๋•Œ, ์˜†๋ฐฉ์—์„œ ๋‚ฎ์€ ์‹ ์Œ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ๋“ค๋ ค์™”๋‹ค. ์–ผ๋ฅธ ๊ท€๋ฅผ ๋ฒฝ์— ๋Œ€๊ณ  ์—ฟ๋“ค์–ด ๋ดค๋”๋‹ˆ ์ด๊ฑด ํ‹€๋ฆผ์—†์ด ์‹ ์Œ์ด์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€˜ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ์ง€๊ธˆ...โ€™ ์ƒ๊ฐํ• ์ˆ˜๋ก ๋ชธ์ด ๋‹ฌ์•„์˜ฌ๋ผ ๋„์ €ํžˆ ์ฐธ์„ ์ˆ˜ ์—†์–ด ๋‚˜๋„ ๊ฒฐ๊ตญ ๋ฐ”์ง€ ๋ฒ„ํด์„ ๋‚ด๋ ธ๋‹ค. ์ž ์‹œ ๋’ค, ๋ฒฝ ํ•˜๋‚˜๋ฅผ ์‚ฌ์ด ๋‘๊ณ  ๋‚˜์™€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ์‹ ์Œ ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ํ•œ๋ฐ ์„ž์˜€๋‹ค. ์˜ํ˜ผ์ด ์ด์–ด์ง„ ๋“ฏํ•œ ๋А๋‚Œ์— ๋‚˜๋„ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒŒ ์˜จ๊ฐ– ์ƒ๊ฐ์ด ๋“ค์—ˆ๋‹ค. ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋‚˜์™€ ๋งŒ๋‚ฌ๋‹ค๋ฉด ์–ผ๋งˆ๋‚˜ ์ข‹์„๊นŒ ํ•˜๋Š” ์ƒ๊ฐ์ด ๋“ค์–ด๋‚ฌ๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ์ด๊ฑด ์ ˆ๋Œ€ ๋ถˆ๊ฐ€๋Šฅํ•œ ์ผ์ด๋‹ค. ํ˜•์ˆ˜์™€ ๋‚˜ ์‚ฌ์ด์—๋Š” ์˜์›ํžˆ ๋„˜์„ ์ˆ˜ ์—†๋Š” ํ˜•์ด๋ผ๋Š” ์กด์žฌ๊ฐ€ ์žˆ์œผ๋‹ˆ. ํ˜•ํ•œํ…Œ ๋ฏธ์•ˆํ•œ ์ผ์€ ํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์—†๋‹ค. ๋”๋Ÿฌ์›Œ์ง„ ์†์˜ท์„ ๋Œ€์ถฉ ํ™”์žฅ์‹ค์— ๋‘๊ณ  ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋‚ด์ผ ์”ป์ž๋Š” ์ƒ๊ฐ์œผ๋กœ ์ž ์ด ๋“ค์—ˆ๋‹ค. ์ดํŠฟ๋‚ , ์ž ์—์„œ ๊นจ์—ˆ์„ ๋•Œ ์‹œ๊ฐ„์€ ๋ฒŒ์จ 9์‹œ๊ฐ€ ๋„˜์—ˆ๋‹ค. ํ˜•์€ ์ด๋ฏธ ์ถœ๊ทผํ–ˆ๊ณ  ์ง‘์—๋Š” ๋‚˜์™€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜ ๋‘˜๋ฟ์ด์—ˆ๋‹ค. ์•„์นจ์„ ํ•˜๋Š” ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ์‹คํฌ๋กœ ๋œ ๋‚˜์‹œ ์Šฌ๋ฆฝ์„ ์ž…์€ ์ฑ„๋กœ ๊ตด๊ณก์ง„ ๋ชธ๋งค๋ฅผ ๋“œ๋Ÿฌ๋ƒˆ๋‹ค. ํŠนํžˆ ํ’๋งŒํ•œ ๊ฐ€์Šด์„ ๋ณธ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ์ž…์ด ๋ฐ”์‹น ๋ง๋ž๋‹ค. โ€œ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ, ์ผ์–ด๋‚ฌ์–ด์š”? ์–ผ๋ฅธ ์”ป๊ณ  ๋ฐฅ ๋จน์–ด์š”.โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๋ณด์ž๋งˆ์ž ๋จผ์ € ์ธ์‚ฌ๋ฅผ ๊ฑด๋„ธ๋‹ค. ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ์ด๊ณณ์— ์˜จ ์ง€๋Š” ์•„์ง ๋ฉฐ์น  ๋˜์ง€ ์•Š๊ธฐ์— ํ˜•์ˆ˜์™€ ์•„์ง ์นœํ•ด์ง€์ง€ ๋ชปํ•˜์—ฌ ๋งŽ์ด ์–ด์ƒ‰ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ์ด์— ๋‚˜๋Š” ์งค๋ง‰ํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๋Œ€๋‹ตํ•˜๊ณ  ๊ณง์žฅ ํ™”์žฅ์‹ค๋กœ ํ–ฅํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ํ•œ์ฐฝ ์”ป๋˜ ๊ทธ๋•Œ, ๊ฐ‘์ž๊ธฐ ์–ด์ œ ๋ฒ—์–ด๋‘์—ˆ๋˜ ์†์˜ท์ด ๋‚ด ๋‡Œ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ์Šค์ณค๋‹ค. โ€˜ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋‚˜๋ณด๋‹ค ์ผ์ฐ ๊นจ์–ด๋‚ฌ๋Š”๋ฐ ์„ค๋งˆ ๋ณธ ๊ฑด ์•„๋‹ˆ๊ฒ ์ง€?โ€™ ์ด๋Ÿฐ ์ƒ๊ฐ์„ ํ•˜๋ฉฐ ์žฌ๋นจ๋ฆฌ ํ™•์ธํ•œ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ทธ๋Œ€๋กœ ์–ผ์–ด๋ถ™๊ณ  ๋ง์•˜๋‹ค. ์†์˜ท์ด ์‚ฌ๋ผ์กŒ๋‹ค. ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ์ด๊ณณ์ €๊ณณ ์ฐพ๊ณ  ์žˆ์„ ๋•Œ ๊ฐ‘์ž๊ธฐ ๋’ค์—์„œ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ชฉ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ๋“ค๋ ค์™”๋‹ค. โ€œ์ฐพ์„ ํ•„์š” ์—†์–ด์š”. ์ด๋ฏธ ์”ป์—ˆ์œผ๋‹ˆ๊นŒ.โ€ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ๊ฐ€์Šด์ด ์ฒ ๋ ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€˜๊ทธ ์†์˜ท์— ๋‚ด ์ •์•ก์ด ๊ฐ€๋“ ๋ฌป์–ด ์žˆ๋Š”๋ฐ, ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ์”ป์—ˆ๋‹ค๋ฉด ๋ดค์„ ๊ฑฐ์ž–์•„!โ€™ ์ด๊ฑด ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ๋ถ€๋„๋Ÿฌ์› ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ๋ฐ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ํŒ”์งฑ์„ ๋‚€ ์ฑ„ ๋ˆˆ์›ƒ์Œ์„ ์น˜๋ฉฐ ์•„๋ฌด๋ ‡์ง€ ์•Š์€ ๋“ฏ ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๋ดค๋‹ค. โ€œ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ, ํ˜น์‹œ ์–ด์ œ ๋ฌด์Šจ ์†Œ๋ฆฌ ๋“ค์—ˆ์–ด์š”?โ€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ณ ๊ฐœ๋ฅผ ์ ˆ๋ ˆ์ ˆ๋ ˆ ํ”๋“ค๋ฉฐ ์–ด์ œ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๋“ค์—ˆ๋‹ค๋Š” ๊ฑธ ๊ทน๊ตฌ ๋ถ€์ธํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์•„๋‹ˆ์š”, ์•„๋ฌด๊ฒƒ๋„ ๋ชป ๋“ค์—ˆ์–ด์š”.โ€ โ€œ๊ทธ๋ž˜์š”? ๋‚ด ๋ฐฉ์—์„œ ์ด์ƒํ•œ ์†Œ๋ฆฌ ๋“ฃ์ง€ ๋ชปํ–ˆ์–ด์š”?โ€ โ€˜์ด๊ฑด ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ์‹œํ—˜ํ•˜๋Š” ๊ฑด๊ฐ€?โ€™ โ€œ์ € ์–ด์ œ 10์‹œ์ฏค์— ์ž ๋“ค์–ด์„œ ์•„๋ฌด๊ฒƒ๋„ ๋ชป ๋“ค์—ˆ์–ด์š”.โ€ ์ด ๋ง์„ ๋์œผ๋กœ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋„๋ง์น˜๋“ฏ ๊ทธ ์ž๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๋ฒ—์–ด๋‚ฌ๋‹ค. ์™ ์ง€ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒ ์ง€๋งŒ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ์‹ฌ๋ฌธ์— ๊ฐ€์Šด์ด ์ฝ•์ฝ• ์ฐ”๋ ธ๊ณ  ๋ˆˆ์€ ์ €๋„ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒŒ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๊ฐ€์Šด์œผ๋กœ ํ–ฅํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๋ถ„๋ช… ๋งˆ๊ฐ€ ๋‚€ ๊ฒŒ ํ‹€๋ฆผ์—†๋‹ค. ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ณง์žฅ ์‹ํƒ ์•ž์— ์•‰์•„ ๋ฌต๋ฌตํžˆ ์Œ์‹์„ ๋จน์—ˆ๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ๋ฐฅ์ด ์ฝ”๋กœ ๋„˜์–ด๊ฐ€๋Š”์ง€ ์ž…์œผ๋กœ ๋„˜์–ด๊ฐ€๋Š”์ง€ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒ ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋„ ๊ทธ๋Ÿด ๊ฒŒ, ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ์ด๋‚ด ๊ฑธ์–ด์™€ ํ•˜ํ•„์ด๋ฉด ๋‚ด ์˜†์— ์•‰์•˜๊ธฐ ๋•Œ๋ฌธ์ด๋‹ค. ์™œ ์ด๋Ÿฌ๋Š”์ง€ ์ดํ•ด๊ฐ€ ๋˜์ง€ ์•Š๋Š”๋‹ค. ์˜ˆ์ „์—๋Š” ๋ถ„๋ช… ๋‚ด ๋งž์€ํŽธ์— ์•‰์•˜๋Š”๋ฐ, ์˜ค๋Š˜์€ ์™œ ๋‚ด ์˜†์— ์•‰๋Š”์ง€. ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ์ด๋Ÿฐ์ €๋Ÿฐ ์ƒ๊ฐ์— ์ž ๊ฒจ ์žˆ์„ ๋•Œ, ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๊ฐ‘์ž๊ธฐ ์†๊ฐ€๋ฝ์œผ๋กœ ๋‚ด ํŒ”๋š์„ ์ฟก์ฟก ์ฐ”๋ €๋‹ค. ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ์˜จ๋ชธ์ด ๊ฐ์ „๋˜๋Š” ๋“ฏ ์ฐŒ๋ฆฟํ•ด ๋‚ฌ๋‹ค. โ€˜์—ฌ์ž๊ฐ€ ๋‚ด ๋ชธ์„ ๋งŒ์ง€๋Š” ๊ฒŒ ์ด๋Ÿฐ ๊ธฐ๋ถ„์ด๊ตฌ๋‚˜.โ€™ ์‹ ๊ธฐํ•œ ๊ธฐ๋ถ„์ด์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ, ํ˜น์‹œ ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๋ฌด์„œ์›Œ์š”?โ€ โ€œ์•„๋‹ˆ์š”. ๊ทธ๋ƒฅ ์กฐ๊ธˆ ์–ด์ƒ‰ํ•ด์„œ์š”.โ€ โ€œ์‚ฌ๋žŒ์€ ์›๋ž˜ ์–ด์ƒ‰ํ•˜๋‹ค๊ฐ€ ์ ์  ์ต์ˆ™ํ•ด์ง€๋Š” ๊ฑฐ ์•„๋‹ˆ๊ฒ ์–ด์š”? ์–ด์ƒ‰ํ•˜๋‹ˆ๊นŒ ๋” ๋งŽ์ด ๊ต๋ฅ˜ํ•ด์•ผ์ฃ . ๊ทธ๋ž˜์•ผ ์–ผ๋ฅธ ์นœํ•ด์ง€์ฃ . ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ, ๋‚จ์ž์™€ ์—ฌ์ž๊ฐ€ ๊ฐ€์žฅ ๋นจ๋ฆฌ ์นœํ•ด์ง€๋Š” ๋ฐฉ๋ฒ•์ด ๋ญ”์ง€ ์•Œ์•„์š”?โ€ ๋‚ด ์ฐฉ๊ฐ์ธ์ง€ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒ ์œผ๋‚˜ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋ถ„๋ช… ๋‚˜์—๊ฒŒ ์•”์‹œํ•˜๋Š” ๊ฒƒ ๊ฐ™์•˜๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๊ฑธ ์ธ์‹ํ•˜๋‹ˆ ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ๋‹นํ™ฉํ•ด ๋ฐฅ์ด ๋„˜์–ด๊ฐ€์ง€ ์•Š์•˜๋‹ค. ์„ค๋ ˜ ๋ฐ˜ ๊ธด์žฅ ๋ฐ˜์ธ ์‹ฌ์ •์œผ๋กœ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ง์— ๋‹ด๊ธด ์˜๋ฏธ๋ฅผ ์ƒ๊ฐํ•˜๋‹ค๊ฐ€ ๋๋‚ด ์šฉ๊ธฐ๋ฅผ ๋‚ด ์งˆ๋ฌธํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๋ญ”๋ฐ์š”?โ€ โ€œ์•„์ด ๋งŒ๋“œ๋Š” ๊ฑฐ์š”.โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋ง‘์€ ๋‘ ๋ˆˆ์œผ๋กœ ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๋ฐ”๋ผ๋ณด๋ฉฐ ์•„์ฃผ ์ง์„ค์ ์œผ๋กœ ๋งํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์‚ฌ๋ ˆ๊ฐ€ ๊ฑธ๋ ธ๋‹ค. ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ์™œ ์ด๋Ÿฐ ๋ง์„ ํ•˜๋Š”์ง€ ์ดํ•ด๊ฐ€ ๋˜์ง€ ์•Š์•˜๋‹ค. ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์™€ ๋ญ˜ ํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ๋‹ค๊ณ . โ€˜์„ค๋งˆ ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๋…ธ๋ฆฌ๋‚˜?โ€™ โ€˜ํ˜•์ด ์•ˆ ๋˜๋‹ˆ๊นŒ ๋‚˜ํ•œํ…Œ ํฌ๋ง์„ ํ’ˆ์€ ๊ฑด๊ฐ€?โ€™ โ€˜์•ˆ๋ผ, ๋‚œ ์ ˆ๋Œ€ ํ˜•ํ•œํ…Œ ๋ฏธ์•ˆํ•œ ์ผ ํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์—†์–ด.โ€™ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋‹ค๊ธ‰ํžˆ ์˜์ž๋ฅผ ๋“ค๊ณ  ์˜†์œผ๋กœ ๋ฌผ๋Ÿฌ๋‚ฌ๋‹ค. โ€œํ˜•์ˆ˜, ๋†๋‹ดํ•˜์ง€ ๋งˆ์„ธ์š”. ๋ˆ„๊ฐ€ ๋ณด๋ฉด ์˜คํ•ดํ•ด์š”.โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๋ณด๋ฉฐ ํ”ผ์‹ ์›ƒ๋”๋‹ˆ ๊ณง์žฅ ์งˆ๋ฌธํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๊ทธ๋Ÿผ ์†”์งํžˆ ๋งํ•ด๋ด์š”. ์–ด์ œ ๋ฌด์Šจ ์†Œ๋ฆฌ ๋“ค์—ˆ์–ด์š”? ์†”์งํžˆ ๋งํ•˜์ง€ ์•Š์œผ๋ฉด ๊นŠ์€ ๋Œ€ํ™”๋ฅผ ํ•ด๋ด์•ผ ํ•  ๊ฒƒ ๊ฐ™์€๋ฐ์š”.โ€ โ€˜ํ—‰, ์ ˆ๋Œ€ ๊ทธ๋Ÿด ์ˆ˜ ์—†์–ด.โ€™ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋†€๋ž€ ๊ฐ€์Šด์„ ๋‹ค๋…์ด๋ฉฐ ๊ฒฐ๊ตญ ์ž…์„ ์—ด์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜, ์ € ํ™•์‹คํžˆ ๋ฌด์Šจ ์†Œ๋ฆฌ ๋“ค์—ˆ์–ด์š”. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ๊ณ ์˜๋Š” ์•„๋‹ˆ์—ˆ์–ด์š”.โ€ โ€œํ˜น์‹œ ๋‚ด ์‹ ์Œ ์†Œ๋ฆฌ์˜€์–ด์š”? ๋“ฃ๊ธฐ ์ข‹๋˜๊ฐ€์š”?โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜์ด ์ด๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ๋…ธ๊ณจ์ ์ธ ์งˆ๋ฌธ์„ ํ•  ๊ฑฐ๋ผ๊ณ ๋Š” ์ƒ๊ฐ์ง€๋„ ๋ชปํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ์–ผ๊ตด์€ ํ™”๋ˆ ๋‹ฌ์•„์˜ฌ๋ž๊ณ , ๊ฐ€์Šด์€ ์š”๋ž€ํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๋ถ์„ ์ณ ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ๋Œ€๋‹ตํ•ด์•ผ ํ• ์ง€ ๊ฐˆํ”ผ๋ฅผ ์žก์ง€ ๋ชปํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ๋˜ ๊ทธ๋•Œ. ๋งˆ์นจ ๋ฐ–์—์„œ ๋…ธํฌ ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ๋“ค๋ ค์˜ค์ž ๋‚˜๋Š” ์ง€ํ‘ธ๋ผ๊ธฐ๋ผ๋„ ์žก๋Š” ์‹ฌ์ •์œผ๋กœ ์–ผ๋ฅธ ๋‹ฌ๋ ค๊ฐ€ ๋ฌธ ์ชฝ์œผ๋กœ ๋‹ฌ๋ ค๊ฐ”๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ  ๋ฌธ์„ ์—ด์—ˆ๋”๋‹ˆ ๋ฐ–์—๋Š” ๋Š˜์”ฌํ•œ ์—ฌ์ž ํ•œ ๋ช…์ด ์„œ ์žˆ์—ˆ๋‹ค. ์–ผ๊ตด์€ ์˜ˆ์˜์žฅํ•œ ๋ฐ๋‹ค, ๋‚˜์˜ฌ ๋ฐ ๋‚˜์˜ค๊ณ  ๋“ค์–ด๊ฐˆ ๋ฐ ๋“ค์–ด๊ฐ€ ์—ฐ์˜ˆ์ธ ๋ชป์ง€์•Š์•˜๋‹ค. ์—ฌ์ž๋Š” ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๋ณด์ž ๋ˆˆ์„ ํฌ๊ฒŒ ๋œจ๋ฉฐ ๋ฌผ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๊ทธ์ชฝ์€ ๋ˆ„๊ตฌ์ฃ ?โ€ ๊ทธ ๋ง์— ๋‚˜๋Š” ์–ด์ด๊ฐ€ ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ๋Š” ๊ทธ์ชฝ์€ ๋ˆ„๊ตฐ๋ฐ์š”?โ€ ์ œ2ํ™” โ€œ์• ๊ต์•ผ, ์™”์–ด? ์–ผ๋ฅธ ๋“ค์–ด์™€.โ€ ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ํ•œ์ฐธ ๋‹ต๋‹ตํ•ดํ•˜๊ณ  ์žˆ์„ ๋•Œ, ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋‹ค๊ฐ€์™€ ๋‚ฏ์„  ์—ฌ์ž๋ฅผ ์นœ์ ˆํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๋งž์ดํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ์—ฌ์ž๋Š” ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ์ดˆ๋Œ€๋กœ ๊ณง์žฅ ์ง‘ ์•ˆ์— ๋“ค์–ด์„ฐ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ์ž ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ์šฐ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ์†Œ๊ฐœํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ์—ฌ์ž๋Š” ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ์นœํ•œ ์นœ๊ตฌ์ธ๋ฐ, ์ด๋ฆ„์€ ์ด์• ๊ต, ๋ฐ”๋กœ ์˜†์ง‘์— ์‚ด๊ณ  ์žˆ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์• ๊ต์•ผ, ์ด ์‚ฌ๋žŒ์€ ๋™์„ฑ ์”จ์™€ ๊ฐ™์€ ๋งˆ์„์— ์‚ด๋˜ ๋™์ƒ์ด์•ผ, ์ •์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ๋ผ๊ณ , ์–ด์ œ ์™”์–ด.โ€ ์• ๊ต๋ผ๋Š” ์—ฌ์ž๋Š” ์ด์ƒํ•œ ๋ˆˆ์œผ๋กœ ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๋ณด๋”๋‹ˆ ์ด๋‚ด ๋น™๊ทธ๋ ˆ ์›ƒ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๋™์„ฑ ์”จํ•œํ…Œ ์ด๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ์–ด๋ฆฌ๊ณ  ์ž˜์ƒ๊ธด ๋™์ƒ์ด ๋‹ค ์žˆ์—ˆ์–ด?โ€ โ€œ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ ์ด์ œ ๋ง‰ ๋Œ€ํ•™ ์กธ์—…ํ–ˆ์–ด. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ๋‹ˆ ๋‹น์—ฐํžˆ ์ Š์ง€. ์ Š์„ ๋ฟ๋งŒ ์•„๋‹ˆ๋ผ ์—„์ฒญ ํŠผ์‹คํ•ด.โ€ ๋‚ด ์ฐฉ๊ฐ์ผ์ง€ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒ ์œผ๋‚˜ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋งˆ์ง€๋ง‰ ํ•œ๋งˆ๋””๋Š” ๋ฌด์ฒ™ ์˜๋ฏธ์‹ฌ์žฅํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ์‹ฌ์ง€์–ด ๋ˆˆ๊ธธ๋งˆ์ € ๋‚ด ์•„๋ž˜๋ฅผ ํ˜๋—๊ฑฐ๋ ธ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ ๋™์ž‘์— ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋” ๋ถˆํŽธํ•ด์กŒ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋•Œ, ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๊ฐ€ ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ์œ„์•„๋ž˜๋กœ ํ›‘๋”๋‹ˆ ๋ฌผ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œํƒœ์—ฐ์•„, ๋„ค๊ฐ€ ๋งํ–ˆ๋˜ ๋งˆ์‚ฌ์ง€์‚ฌ๊ฐ€ ์„ค๋งˆ ์ด ์‚ฌ๋žŒ์ด์•ผ?โ€ โ€œ๋งž์•„. ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ๊ฐ€ ์–ด๋ฆด ๋•Œ๋ถ€ํ„ฐ ํ• ์•„๋ฒ„์ง€ํ•œํ…Œ ๋งˆ์‚ฌ์ง€๋ฅผ ๋ฐฐ์› ๋Œ€. ์†œ์”จ๊ฐ€ ์—„์ฒญ ์ข‹์•„.โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋ง์„ ๋งˆ์น˜์ž๋งˆ์ž ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๋ดค๋‹ค. โ€œ์•„๊นŒ ๋ฏธ์ฒ˜ ๋งํ•˜์ง€ ๋ชปํ–ˆ๋Š”๋ฐ, ์‚ฌ์‹ค ๋‚ด ์นœ๊ตฌ๊ฐ€ ํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ์™€ ์ฒ™์ถ”๊ฐ€ ์•„ํ”„๋‹ค๊ณ  ํ•ด์„œ์š”. ๊ฐ€๋” ๊ฐ€์Šด๋„ ๋‹ต๋‹ตํ•˜๋Œ€์š”. ์›๋ž˜๋Š” ํ•œ์˜์‚ฌ๋ฅผ ๋ถˆ๋Ÿฌ ๋งˆ์‚ฌ์ง€ ์ข€ ๋ฐ›๊ฒŒ ํ•˜๋ ค๊ณ  ํ–ˆ๋Š”๋ฐ, ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ๊ฐ€ ๋งˆ์นจ ๋งˆ์‚ฌ์ง€ํ•  ์ค„ ์•Œ์ž–์•„์š”. ๊ทธ๋ž˜์„œ ํ•œ๋ฒˆ ๋ฐ›์•„๋ณด๊ฒŒ ํ•˜๋ ค๊ณ ์š”.โ€ โ€˜๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ ๊ฑฐ์˜€๊ตฐ.โ€™ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋‹จ๋ฒˆ์— ์Šน๋‚™ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€˜ํ˜•๊ณผ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ์ด๊ณณ์—์„œ ๋จธ๋ฌผ๊ฒŒ ํ•ด์ฃผ๊ณ  ์ผ์ž๋ฆฌ๋„ ์•Œ์•„๋ด ์คฌ๋Š”๋ฐ, ์ด๋Ÿฐ ์ผ ์ •๋„์•ผ ๋‹น์—ฐํžˆ ๋„์™€์•ผ์ง€.โ€™ ๊ทธ๋•Œ, ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๊ฐ€ ๋ถ€๋„๋Ÿฌ์šด์ง€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋ฅผ ์˜†์œผ๋กœ ๋Œ๊ณ  ๊ฐ”๋‹ค. โ€œ์ด๊ฑด ์ข€ ์•„๋‹ˆ์ง€ ์•Š๋‚˜? ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ์ Š์€๋ฐ?โ€ โ€œ์ Š์€ ๊ฒŒ ๋ญ ์–ด๋•Œ์„œ? ์ Š์„์ˆ˜๋ก ์ข‹์€ ๊ฑฐ ์•„๋‹ˆ์•ผ? ์ Š์–ด์•ผ ํž˜์ด ์ข‹๊ณ , ๊ทธ๋ž˜์•ผ ๋„ˆ ๊ฐ™์€ ์œ ๋ถ€๋…€๋ฅผ ํŽธํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๋ชจ์‹ค ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ์ž–์•„.โ€ โ€œ๋ฌด์Šจ ํ—›์†Œ๋ฆฌํ•˜๋Š” ๊ฑฐ์•ผ. ๋‚˜ ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ ์‚ฌ๋žŒ ์•„๋‹ˆ๊ฑฐ๋“ .โ€ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ์–ผ๊ตด์„ ๋ถ‰ํ˜”๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ์ž ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ์‹ฑ๊ธ‹ ์›ƒ์œผ๋ฉฐ ๋Œ€๋‹ตํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๋†๋‹ด์ด์•ผ. ๋„ค๊ฐ€ ๊ทธ์ชฝ์œผ๋กœ ์ƒ๊ฐํ•˜๋‹ˆ๊นŒ ๊ทธ๋ ‡์ง€. ์†”์งํžˆ ๋งํ•ด๋ด, ๋„ค ๋‚จํŽธ ๋ฐ˜๋…„ ๋™์•ˆ ์ง‘์— ์•ˆ ์™”๋Š”๋ฐ, ๊ทธ๋™์•ˆ ํ•˜๊ณ  ์‹ถ์ง€ ์•Š์•˜์–ด?โ€ โ€œ๋„ˆ ๊ณ„์† ์ด๋Ÿฌ๋ฉด ๋‚˜ ๊ฐ„๋‹ค?โ€ ๊ทธ๋•Œ, ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๊ท€๊นŒ์ง€ ๋นจ๊ฐœ์ง„ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ํŒ”์งฑ์„ ๋ผ๋ฉฐ ๋งํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์•Œ์•˜์–ด. ์•ˆ ๋†€๋ฆด๊ฒŒ. ๋„ˆ๋Š” ์ ์ž–๊ณ  ์šฐ์•„ํ•œ ๊ท€๋ถ€์ธ์ด์•ผ. ๋์ง€? ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ๋ฐ ์šฐ๋ฆฌ ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ ์†œ์”จ ์—„์ฒญ ์ข‹์•„. ํ•œ๋ฒˆ ํ•ด๋ด. ์ Š๊ณ  ์ž˜์ƒ๊ธด ๋‚จ์ž๊ฐ€ ๋ฐ–์— ์žˆ๋Š” ๋Š™์€ ์˜๊ฐ๋ณด๋‹ค์•ผ ๋‚ซ์ง€ ์•Š๊ฒ ์–ด?โ€ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ง์— ์ผ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ์žˆ๋‹ค๊ณ  ์ƒ๊ฐํ–ˆ๋Š”์ง€ ๊ณ ๊ฐœ๋ฅผ ๋„๋•์˜€๋‹ค. โ€œ๊ทธ๋Ÿผ ์˜†์— ์žˆ์–ด ์ค˜. ์•ˆ ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ๋ฉด ์–ด์ƒ‰ํ•  ๊ฒƒ ๊ฐ™์•„.โ€ โ€œ๊ทธ๋ž˜, ๊ฐ™์ด ์žˆ์–ด ์ค„๊ฒŒ.โ€ ๋‘ ์‚ฌ๋žŒ์€ ํ•œ์ฐธ ๋™์•ˆ ์†Œ๊ณค๊ฑฐ๋ฆฌ๋”๋‹ˆ ๊ทธ์ œ์•ผ ๋‚ด ์•ž์œผ๋กœ ๋‹ค๊ฐ€์™”๋‹ค. ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๊ฐ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋”๋Ÿฌ ๋จผ์ € ์‹œ๋ฒ” ๋ณด์—ฌ๋‹ฌ๋ผ๊ณ  ํ•˜์ž ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๊ตฐ๋ง ์—†์ด ์†ŒํŒŒ์— ์—Ž๋“œ๋ ธ๋‹ค. โ€œ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ, ์‹œ์ž‘ํ•ด์š”.โ€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์˜์ž๋ฅผ ๊ฐ€์ ธ์™€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜ ์˜†์— ์•‰์•„ ๋งˆ์‚ฌ์ง€๋ฅผ ํ•˜๊ธฐ ์‹œ์ž‘ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ์ฝœ๋ผ๋ณ‘ ๋ชธ๋งค๋ฅผ ์†Œ์œ ํ•œ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ์—‰๋ฉ์ด๋Š” ๋™๊ทธ๋ž—๊ณ  ๋ณผ๋กํ•ด ๋‚˜๋Š” ์ €๋„ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒŒ ๋•Œ๋ฆฌ๊ณ  ์‹ถ๋‹ค๋Š” ์ƒ๊ฐ์ด ๋“ค์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œํƒœ์—ฐ, ์–ด๋•Œ? ์‹œ์›ํ•ด?โ€ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๊ฐ€ ๋ฌผ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๋‹น์—ฐํ•˜์ง€, ์ด๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ์‹œ์›ํ•˜๊ธฐ๋Š” ์˜ค๋žœ๋งŒ์ด์•ผ.โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋‚ฎ์€ ์‹ ์Œ์†Œ๋ฆฌ์— ๋‚˜์™€ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ์–ผ๊ตด์ด ํ™”๋ˆ ๋‹ฌ์•„์˜ฌ๋ž๋‹ค. ์‹ฌ์ง€์–ด ์•„๋ž˜๊ฐ€ ํ„ฐ์งˆ ๊ฒƒ ๊ฐ™์•„ ๊ดด๋กœ์›Œํ•˜๊ณ  ์žˆ์„ ๋•Œ, ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋„ ๋ถ€์ž์—ฐ์Šค๋Ÿฝ๊ฒŒ ๋‹ค๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๊ฝ‰ ๋ชจ์•˜๋‹ค. โ€œ๋์–ด, ์• ๊ต์•ผ. ์ด์ œ ๋„ค ์ฐจ๋ก€์•ผ.โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ์†ŒํŒŒ์—์„œ ์ผ์–ด๋‚˜ ์šฐ๋ฆฌ์—๊ฒŒ ๋ฌผ์„ ๋”ฐ๋ผ์ฃผ์ž, ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ๋ถ€๋„๋Ÿฌ์›Œํ•˜๋ฉด์„œ ์†ŒํŒŒ์— ๋ˆ•๋”๋‹ˆ ๋‹ค๋ฆฌ์— ๋‹ด์š”๋ฅผ ๋ฎ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€˜์ฏง, ์˜ˆ์œ ๋‹ค๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๊ฐ€๋ฆฌ๋‹ค๋‹ˆ, ์•„์‰ฝ๋„ค.โ€™ ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ์•„๋ฌด๋ฆฌ ๋ฎ๋Š”๋‹ค๊ณ  ํ•ด๋„ ์™„๋ฒฝํ•œ ๋ชธ๋งค๋ฅผ ๊ฐ€๋ฆด ์ˆ˜๋Š” ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ๋งˆ๋ฅธ ์ฒดํ˜•์ด์ง€๋งŒ ๋‚˜์˜ฌ ๋ฐ ๋‚˜์˜ค๊ณ  ๋“ค์–ด๊ฐˆ ๋ฐ ๋“ค์–ด๊ฐ„ ๋ฐ๋‹ค ์–ผ๊ตด๊นŒ์ง€ ๋™์•ˆ์ด๋ผ ๋ˆˆ๊ธธ์„ ๋” ๋Œ์—ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋•Œ ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ์†์„ ์–ด๊นจ์— ๋Œ€์ž ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ๋ชธ์ด ๋ปฃ๋ปฃํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๊ตณ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€˜ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜์€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜์ด๋ผ ๋ญ˜ ํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์—†๋‹ค์ง€๋งŒ, ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜ ์นœ๊ตฌ๋Š” ๊ดœ์ฐฎ์ž–์•„? ๊ฒŒ๋‹ค๊ฐ€ ๋‚จํŽธ์ด ์˜ค๋žซ๋™์•ˆ ์ง‘์„ ๋น„์› ๋‹ค๊ณ  ํ–ˆ์œผ๋‹ˆ ์—„์ฒญ ์™ธ๋กœ์šธ ๊ฑฐ์•ผ.โ€™ โ€œ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜, ์‹œ์›ํ•ด์š”?โ€ โ€œ์‘.โ€ ๋‚ด ๋ฌผ์Œ์— ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ๋ถ€๋„๋Ÿฌ์šด ๋“ฏ ๋‚ฎ๊ฒŒ ๋Œ€๋‹ตํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ ๋Œ€๋‹ต์„ ๋“ค์œผ๋‹ˆ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋”์šฑ ๋Œ€๋‹ดํ•ด์กŒ๋‹ค. โ€œ๋” ์‹œ์›ํ•˜๊ฒŒ ํ•ด์ค„๊ฒŒ์š”.โ€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ๋“ฑ์„ ํƒ€๊ณ  ๋‘ ์†์„ ์ ์  ์•„๋ž˜๋กœ ์›€์ง์˜€๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ์ž ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๊ฐ€ ๋ชธ์„ ๋ถ€๋ฅด๋ฅด ๋–จ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์ง€๊ธˆ ๋ญ ํ•˜๋Š” ๊ฑฐ์˜ˆ์š”?โ€ โ€œํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ ์‹œํฐ๊ฑฐ๋ฆฐ๋‹ค๋ฉด์„œ์š”? ํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ ์ข€ ์ฃผ๋ฌผ๋Ÿฌ ์ฃผ๋ ค๊ณ ์š”.โ€ ์‚ด์ง ๊ฒ์„ ๋จน์€ ์ฑ„ ๋งํ–ˆ๋”๋‹ˆ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ์•„๋ฌด ๋ง๋„ ํ•˜์ง€ ์•Š์•˜๋‹ค. ๋ฌต์ธ์„ ์–ป์ž ๋‚ด ์†์€ ๋‹ค์‹œ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ ์œ„๋กœ ์˜ฌ๋ผ๊ฐ€ ๊พน๊พน ๋ˆ„๋ฅด๊ธฐ ์‹œ์ž‘ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ๋Š” ๋งค์šฐ ๊ฐ€๋Š˜์–ด ํ•œ ์†์— ์žกํž ์ •๋„์˜€๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ์—‰๋ฉ์ด๋Š” ๊ทธ์— ๋น„ํ•ด ํฌ๊ณ  ํ†ตํ†ตํ•œ ์• ํ”Œํž™์ด์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์‚ฌ์‹ค ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ์–ด๊นจ๋Š” ํฌ๊ฒŒ ๋ฌธ์ œ์—†์–ด์š”. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ์— ๋ฌธ์ œ๊ฐ€ ๋งŽ์•„์š”.โ€ โ€œ๋„ค? ํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ์™œ์š”?โ€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋ถˆ์•ˆํ•œ ๋“ฏ ๋ฌป๋Š” ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๋ˆ„๋ฅด๋ฉฐ ๋งํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์‹ ์žฅ์ด ์•ฝํ•ด์š”. ์‹ ์žฅ์ด ์•ฝํ•˜๋ฉด ์ด๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ์•„ํ”„๊ฑฐ๋“ ์š”.โ€ โ€œ์‹ ์žฅ์€ ๋ณดํ†ต ๋‚จ์žํ•œํ…Œ ์ค‘์š”ํ•œ ๊ฑฐ์ž–์•„์š”. ๋‚˜๋Š” ์—ฌ์ž๋ผ์„œ ํฌ๊ฒŒ ์ƒ๊ด€์—†๋Š” ๊ฑฐ ์•„๋‹ˆ์—์š”?โ€ โ€œ๊ทธ๊ฑด ์˜คํ•ด์˜ˆ์š”. ๋‚จ์ž๋“  ์—ฌ์ž๋“  ์‹ ์žฅ์ด ๋‘ ๊ฐœ์ธ ๊ฑด ๋˜‘๊ฐ™์ž–์•„์š”. ๋ณดํ†ต ์‹ ์žฅํ•˜๋ฉด ๋‚จ์„ฑ ๊ธฐ๋Šฅ ์ชฝ์œผ๋กœ ์ƒ๊ฐํ•˜๋Š”๋ฐ, ์—ฌ์ž๋„ ๊ธฐํ˜ˆ์ด ๋ถ€์กฑํ•˜๋ฉด ์‹ ์žฅ์ด ์•ฝํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ์–ด์š”. ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๊ฐ€ ์–ผ๊ตด์ƒ‰์ด ์ฐฝ๋ฐฑํ•œ ๊ฒƒ๋„ ๊ธฐํ˜ˆ์ด ๋ถ€์กฑํ•ด์„œ ๊ทธ๋ž˜์š”. ์ด๊ฑธ ์žฅ๊ธฐ์ ์œผ๋กœ ๋ฐฉ์น˜ํ•˜๋ฉด ๋‹ค๋ฅธ ๋ฌธ์ œ๊ฐ€ ์ƒ๊ธฐ๊ฑฐ๋“ ์š”.โ€ โ€œ๊ทธ๋Ÿผ ์–ด๋–กํ•ด์š”?โ€ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๊ฐ€ ๋ฌด์˜์‹์ ์œผ๋กœ ๋ฌป์ž ๋‚˜๋Š” ์”ฉ ์ž…๊ผฌ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ์˜ฌ๋ ธ๋‹ค. โ€œ์‚ฌ์‹ค ์ง€๊ธˆ์€ ๊ทธ๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ์‹ฌ๊ฐํ•œ ๊ฒŒ ์•„๋‹ˆ๋ผ ํ•œ๋™์•ˆ ์ด๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ๋งˆ์‚ฌ์ง€ ๋ฐ›์œผ๋ฉด ๋‚˜์„ ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ์–ด์š”.โ€ โ€œ๊ทธ๋Ÿผ ์–ผ๋ฅธ ๋งˆ์‚ฌ์ง€ํ•ด ์ค˜์š”.โ€ โ€œ๊ทธ๋Ÿผ ์‹œ์ž‘ํ•ด์š”.โ€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๋”ฐ๋ผ ์•„๋ž˜๋กœ ์†์„ ๋‚ด๋ ธ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ๋ชธ์ด ๋ปฃ๋ปฃํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๊ตณ์—ˆ๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ์•„๋ฌด ๋ง๋„ ํ•˜์ง€ ์•Š์ž ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋” ๋Œ€๋‹ดํ•˜๊ฒŒ ํ–‰๋™ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๋‚ด ์†์€ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ์—‰๋ฉ์ด๋ฅผ ์Šค์น˜๋ฉฐ ๋‹ค๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๋ฎ๊ณ  ์žˆ๋˜ ๋‹ด์š”๋ฅผ ์ฒœ์ฒœํžˆ ๊ฑท์–ด๋ƒˆ๋‹ค. ๋ฐฑ์˜ฅ์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ์ƒˆํ•˜์–€ ๋‹ค๋ฆฌ๋Š” ์—ญ์‹œ๋‚˜ ์˜ˆ์ˆ ์ด์—ˆ๋‹ค. ๋‚˜๋Š” ์†์„ ์ ์  ์•„๋ž˜๋กœ ๋‚ด๋ ค ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ๋ฐœ์„ ์ฅ๊ณ  ๋ฐœ๋ฐ”๋‹ฅ ํ˜ˆ ์ž๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๊พน๊พน ๋ˆŒ๋ €๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ์ž ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ์ฐธ์ง€ ๋ชปํ•˜๊ณ  ์‹ ์Œ์„ ๋‚ด๋”๋‹ˆ ๋ถ€๋„๋Ÿฌ์› ๋Š”์ง€ ์–ผ๊ตด์ด ์ƒˆ๋นจ๊ฐœ์กŒ๋‹ค. โ€œ๊ดœ์ฐฎ์•„์š”?โ€ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ฐ€์œ ํ˜ธํก์„ ๊ฐ€๋‹ค๋“ฌ์œผ๋ฉฐ ๋Œ€๋‹ตํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๊ดœ์ฐฎ์•„์š”, ๊ณ„์†ํ•ด์š”.โ€ ๊ทธ ๋ง์— ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ณ„์†ํ•ด์„œ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ๋ฐœ๋ฐ”๋‹ฅ์„ ๋ˆŒ๋ €๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ๋‹ค ์ฐธ์ง€ ๋ชปํ•˜๊ณ  ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ์น˜๋งˆ ์†์„ ํ›”์ณ๋ดค๋Š”๋ฐ ์•„์‰ฝ๊ฒŒ๋„ ๋‹ค๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ๊ฝ‰ ๋ชจ์œผ๊ณ  ์žˆ๋Š” ํƒ“์— ์•„๋ฌด๊ฒƒ๋„ ๋ณผ ์ˆ˜ ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ํ•œ์ฐธ ๋™์•ˆ ๋ˆ„๋ฅด๋‹ค๊ฐ€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋งŒ์กฑ์Šค๋Ÿฝ์ง€ ์•Š์•„ ๋Œ€๋‹ดํ•˜๊ฒŒ ์š”๊ตฌํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜, ํ˜น์‹œ ํ‰์†Œ์— ๊ฐ€์Šด์ด ๋‹ต๋‹ตํ•˜์ง€ ์•Š์•„์š”? ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๋งˆ์‚ฌ์ง€ํ•ด ์ค„๊ฒŒ์š”.โ€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋งํ•˜๋ฉด์„œ ๋ฌด์˜์‹์ ์œผ๋กœ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ๊ฐ€์Šด์„ ์Šฌ์ฉ ์Šค์ณ๋ดค๋‹ค. โ€˜์ €๊ธฐ๋ฅผ ๋ˆ„๋ฅผ ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ๋‹ค๋ฉด ์–ผ๋งˆ๋‚˜ ์ข‹์„๊นŒ?โ€™ ๊ฑฐ์ ˆ๋‹นํ• ๊นŒ ๋ด ๊ฑฑ์ •ํ–ˆ๋˜ ๊ฒƒ๋„ ๋ฌด์ƒ‰ํ•˜๊ฒŒ, ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ๋ฐ”๋กœ ๋™์˜ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๋ญ, ๊ทธ๋ž˜์š”.โ€ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ํฅ๋ถ„ํ•œ ๋‚˜๋จธ์ง€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์˜์ž๋ฅผ ์†ŒํŒŒ ์ชฝ์œผ๋กœ ๋” ๋ฐ”์‹น ๋ถ™์ด๋ฉฐ ๋งํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๋ˆ„๋‚˜, ๋ฐ˜๋“ฏํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๋ˆ„์›Œ์š”. ๊ทธ๋ž˜์•ผ ๋งˆ์‚ฌ์ง€ํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ์œผ๋‹ˆ๊นŒ?โ€ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ณ ๋ถ„๊ณ ๋ถ„ ๋’ค๋Œ์•„ ์†ŒํŒŒ ์œ„์— ๋ฐ˜๋“ฏํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๋ˆ„์› ๋‹ค. ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ๊ฐ€์Šด์€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜ ๊ฒƒ๋ณด๋‹ค ์ž‘์•˜์ง€๋งŒ ๋ด‰๊ธ‹ํ•˜๊ฒŒ ์†Ÿ์•˜๋‹ค. ํ•œ ๋ฒˆ๋„ ์—ฌ์ž ๊ฐ€์Šด์„ ๋งŒ์ ธ ๋ณธ ์  ์—†์–ด ์ž”๋œฉ ๊ธด์žฅํ•œ ์ฑ„๋กœ ์†์„ ๋ป—์œผ๋ ค๋Š” ๊ทธ๋•Œ, ๊ฐ‘์ž๊ธฐ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ชฉ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ๋“ค๋ ค์™”๋‹ค. โ€œ์–ด๋จธ, ๋‘ ์‚ฌ๋žŒ ์ง„๋„ ๋น ๋ฅด๋„ค.โ€ ์ œ3ํ™” ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋งˆ์น˜ ๋‚˜์œ ์ง“์„ ํ•œ ์–ด๋ฆฐ์• ์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ๋ฒŒ๋–ก ์ผ์–ด๋‚ฌ๋‹ค. โ€œํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜, ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜์ด ์—ฌ๊ธด ์–ด์ฉ ์ผ์ด์—์š”?โ€ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋„ ์ž˜๋ชป์„ ์ €์ง€๋ฅธ ๊ฒƒ์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ๋ฒŒ๋–ก ์ž๋ฆฌ์—์„œ ์ผ์–ด๋‚ฌ๋‹ค. ์‹ฌ์ง€์–ด ์–‘ ๋ณผ์€ ์–ด๋А์ƒˆ ์‚ฌ๊ณผ์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ๋นจ๊ฐ›๊ฒŒ ๋ฌด๋ฅด์ต์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œํƒœ์—ฐ์•„, ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ ๊ฑฐ ์•„๋‹ˆ์•ผ. ๋‚˜๋ž‘ ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ ์•„๋ฌด ์ผ๋„ ์—†์—ˆ์–ด. ๊ทธ๋ƒฅ ๊ฐ€์Šด์ด ๋‹ต๋‹ตํ•ด์„œ ๋งˆ์‚ฌ์ง€ํ•ด ์ค€ ๊ฒƒ๋ฟ์ด์•ผ.โ€ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๊ฐ€ ๊ตฌ๊ตฌ์ ˆ์ ˆ ์„ค๋ช…ํ•˜์ž ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ํ”ผ์‹ ์›ƒ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๋ญ๋ผ๊ณ  ํ•œ ๊ฒƒ๋„ ์•„๋‹Œ๋ฐ, ์™œ ๊ทธ๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ๊ธด์žฅํ•ด? ์•„๋‹ˆ๋ฉด ๋‚˜ ๋ชฐ๋ž˜ ์ •๋ง ๋‚˜์œ ์ง“์ด๋ผ๋„ ํ–ˆ์–ด?โ€ ๋‚˜์™€ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ๋™์‹œ์— ๊ณ ๊ฐœ๋ฅผ ์ €์—ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ์™€ ๋™์‹œ์— ๋‹นํ˜น์Šค๋Ÿฌ์› ๋‹ค. โ€˜๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๊ฐํžˆ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜ ์นœ๊ตฌ๋ฅผ ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ํ•˜๋ ค ํ•˜๋‹ค๋‹ˆ, ๋งŒ์•ฝ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜์ด ์•Œ๋ฉด ๋ถ„๋ช… ์ซ“์•„๋‚ผ ๊ฑฐ์•ผ.โ€™ ๊ทธ๋•Œ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๊ฐ€ ์•ˆ์ ˆ๋ถ€์ ˆ๋ชปํ•˜๋”๋‹ˆ ์ผ์ด ์žˆ๋‹ค๋Š” ํ•‘๊ณ„๋กœ ์„œ๋‘˜๋Ÿฌ ์ง‘์„ ๋‚˜๊ฐ”๋‹ค. ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ๋’ท๋ชจ์Šต์„ ๋ณด๋ฉฐ ๋ฉํ•ด ์žˆ๋‹ค๊ฐ€ ํ•œ์ฐธ ๋’ค์— ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๋ณด๋ฉฐ ๋ฌผ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ, ๋‚ด ์นœ๊ตฌ ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ๊ฐ™์•„์š”?โ€ โ€œ๋„ค?โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜ํ•œํ…Œ์„œ ๊ฐ‘์ž๊ธฐ ์ด๋Ÿฐ ์งˆ๋ฌธ์„ ๋ฐ›์œผ๋‹ˆ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋งˆ์Œ์ด ํ˜ผ๋ž€์Šค๋Ÿฌ์›Œ ๋ง๊นŒ์ง€ ๋”๋“ฌ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์ข‹์ฃ . ์˜ˆ์˜๊ณ  ๋ชธ๋งค๋„ ์ข‹๊ณ  ์„ฑ๊ฒฉ๋„ ์ข‹์ž–์•„์š”.โ€ โ€œ๊ทธ๋Ÿผ ๋‚ด ์นœ๊ตฌ ๊ผฌ์‹œ๋ผ๊ณ  ํ•˜๋ฉด ๊ทธ๋Ÿด ์˜ํ–ฅ ์žˆ์–ด์š”?โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ง์— ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋†€๋ผ์›€์„ ๊ฐ์ถœ ์ˆ˜ ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. ๋งˆ์Œ๋„ ํ˜ผ๋ž€์Šค๋Ÿฌ์›Œ ๋ฌด์Šจ ๋ง์„ ํ•ด์•ผ ํ• ์ง€ ๋ชฐ๋ž๋‹ค. ๋ฌธ์ œ๋Š” ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋ฐฉ๊ธˆ ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜ ์นœ๊ตฌ๋ฅผ ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ํ•ด๋ณด๋ ค๋˜ ๊ฑธ ๋ฐœ๊ฒฌํ•˜๊ณ  ์ผ๋ถ€๋Ÿฌ ๋– ๋ณด๋Š” ๊ฒƒ์ผ๊นŒ ๋ด ๊ฑฑ์ •๋˜์—ˆ๋‹ค. ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๊ธด์žฅํ•˜๊ณ  ์žˆ์„ ๋•Œ, ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋‚ด ํŒ”์„ ์žก์œผ๋ฉฐ ์†๋“ฑ์„ ํ†กํ†ก ๋‘๋“œ๋ ธ๋‹ค. โ€œ๊ธด์žฅํ•  ๊ฑฐ ์—†์–ด์š”. ์†”์งํžˆ ๋งํ•˜๋ฉด ๋ผ์š”.โ€ โ€œํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜, ์ € ๋‚œ์ฒ˜ํ•˜๊ฒŒ ํ•˜์ง€ ๋งˆ์„ธ์š”. ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜ ์นœ๊ตฌ์ธ๋ฐ ์ œ๊ฐ€ ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ๊ฐํžˆ ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ ๋งˆ์Œ์„ ํ’ˆ๊ฒ ์–ด์š”?โ€ โ€œ๊ฐํžˆ๋ผ๊ณ ์š”? ์•„๋ž˜๊ฐ€ ์ด๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ๋‹จ๋‹จํ•ด์กŒ์œผ๋ฉด์„œ.โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋‚ด ์•„๋ž˜๋ฅผ ํ˜๊ธ‹๊ฑฐ๋ฆฌ๋ฉฐ ๋งํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ์ชฝํŒ”๋ฆฌ๊ณ  ๋‚œ๊ฐํ•ด ๋‚˜๋Š” ์–ผ๋ฅธ ํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ์ˆ™์˜€๋‹ค. โ€œ์™€, ์‚ฌ์ด์ฆˆ ๋ณดํ†ต ์•„๋‹ˆ๋„ค์š”.โ€ ๋‚ด ์ฐฉ๊ฐ์ผ์ง€ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒ ์œผ๋‚˜ ๋‚ด ์•„๋ž˜๋ฅผ ๋ณธ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ˆˆ๋น›์ด ๋ณ€ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋•Œ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋ง์„ ์ด์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๋‚˜ ๋†๋‹ด ์•„๋‹ˆ์—์š”. ์• ๊ต์™€ ์ž ์ž๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๊ฐ€์ ธ์š”. ํ˜• ๋„์™€์ฃผ๋Š” ์…ˆ ์น˜๊ณ .โ€ โ€˜๋ญ์ง€? ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์™€ ์ž๋Š” ๊ฒŒ ํ˜•๊ณผ ๋ฌด์Šจ ์ƒ๊ด€์ด์ง€?โ€™ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ์†ŒํŒŒ์— ์•‰ํžˆ๋”๋‹ˆ ์„ค๋ช…ํ•˜๊ธฐ ์‹œ์ž‘ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๋™์„ฑ ์”จ ํšŒ์‚ฌ์™€ ์• ๊ต์˜ ๋‚จํŽธ์ด ํ˜„์žฌ ์‚ฌ์—… ํŒŒํŠธ๋„ˆ๊ฑฐ๋“ ์š”. ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ๋‚จํŽธ์ด ๋ฐ–์— ์• ์ธ์ด ์žˆ๋Š”๋ฐ ๋™์„ฑ ์”จํ•œํ…Œ ์‚ฌ๋žŒ์„ ์ฐพ์•„ ์ž๊ธฐ ์•„๋‚ด ๊ผฌ์…”๋‹ฌ๋ผ๊ณ  ๋ถ€ํƒํ–ˆ๋Œ€์š”. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ๋ฉด ๋นจ๋ฆฌ ์ดํ˜ผํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ์œผ๋‹ˆ๊นŒ. ์ด์ œ ์•Œ๊ฒ ์ฃ ?โ€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์—ฐ์‹  ๊ณ ๊ฐœ๋ฅผ ๋„๋•์˜€๋‹ค. ์•Œ์•„๋“ค์€ ๊ฑด ํ™•์‹คํ•˜๋‚˜ ์ดํ•ด๊ฐ€ ๋˜์ง€ ์•Š์•˜๋‹ค. โ€˜์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ์˜ˆ์œ ์—ฌ์ž๋ฅผ ๋‘๊ณ  ๊ทธ ๋‚จํŽธ์€ ์™œ ๋ฐ”๋žŒํ”ผ์šฐ๋Š” ๊ฑฐ์ง€?โ€™ ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๊นŠ์€ ์ƒ๊ฐ์— ๋น ์ ธ ์žˆ์„ ๋•Œ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋‚ด ํ—ˆ๋ฒ…์ง€๋ฅผ ๊ผฌ์ง‘์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๋ฌด์Šจ ์ƒ๊ฐ์„ ๊ทธ๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ํ•ด์š”?โ€ โ€œ์•„!โ€ ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ์•„ํŒŒ ์ €๋„ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒŒ ๋น„๋ช…์„ ์ง€๋ฅด๋ฉฐ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์—ฐ์‹  ๊ณ ๊ฐœ๋ฅผ ์ €์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์•„๋ฌด๊ฒƒ๋„ ์•„๋‹ˆ์—์š”.โ€ โ€œ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ์•„์นจ์— ํ•œ ๋ง ๊ธฐ์–ตํ•ด์š”? ๋‚จ์ž์˜ ๊ทธ๊ฑด ์ •ํ™•ํ•œ ๊ณณ์— ์จ์•ผ ํ•ด์š”. ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ๋‚จํŽธ์ด ๋ฐ˜๋…„ ๋™์•ˆ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜ํ•œํ…Œ ์†๋ ํ•˜๋‚˜ ๋Œ€์ง€ ์•Š์•˜๋Œ€์š”. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ๋‹ˆ๊นŒ ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ๊ฐ€ ์กฐ๊ธˆ๋งŒ ์†์“ฐ๋ฉด ๋ฐ”๋กœ ๋„˜์–ด์˜ฌ ๊ฑฐ์˜ˆ์š”. ์—ฌ์ž์™€ ์ž๋ณธ ์  ์—†์ฃ ? ์ด๋ฒˆ์ด ๊ธฐํšŒ์˜ˆ์š”.โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ง์„ ๋“ค์„์ˆ˜๋ก ๋‚˜๋Š” ์–ผ๊ตด์ด ๋นจ๊ฐ›๊ฒŒ ๋‹ฌ์•„์˜ฌ๋ž๊ณ , ์•„๋žซ๋ฐฐ์— ์—ด๊ธฐ๊ฐ€ ๋ชฐ๋ ธ๋‹ค. ๋ฌธ์ œ๋Š” ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ๋ถ€๋„๋Ÿฌ์šฐ๋ฉด์„œ๋„ ๋‚œ๊ฐํ•œ ๋ถ€ํƒ์ด๋ผ๋Š” ๊ฑฐ๋‹ค. ๋งŒ์•ฝ ๋‹ค๋ฅธ ์‚ฌ๋žŒ์˜ ๋ถ€ํƒ์ด๋ผ๋ฉด ๊ทธ๋‚˜๋งˆ ๊ดœ์ฐฎ์•˜์„ ํ…๋ฐ. ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๊ฟˆ์ฉ๋„ ํ•˜์ง€ ์•Š์ž ๊ฐ‘์ž๊ธฐ ์˜†์œผ๋กœ ๋ฐ”์‹น ๋‹ค๊ฐ€์™”๋‹ค. ๊ทธ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ์€์€ํ•œ ํ–ฅ๊ธฐ๊ฐ€ ๋‚ด ์ฝ”๋์„ ๊ฐ„์ง€๋Ÿฝํ˜”๋‹ค. ์ „์— ํ•œ ๋ฒˆ๋„ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์™€ ์ด๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ๊ฐ€๊นŒ์ด ์•‰์€ ์  ์—†๋Š”๋ฐ, ์ง€๊ธˆ์€ ์‹ฌ์ง€์–ด ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ์˜จ๋„๊นŒ์ง€ ๋А๊ปด์งˆ ์ •๋„๋ผ ๊ฐ€์Šด์ด ์ฝฉ๋‹ฅ๊ฑฐ๋ฆฌ๋Š” ํ•œํŽธ ๊ธด์žฅํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œํ˜น์‹œ ๋ฌด์„œ์›Œ์š”? ๊ฑฑ์ •๋ผ์š”?โ€ ์กฐ์‹ฌ์Šค๋Ÿฝ๊ฒŒ ๋ฌป๋Š” ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ง์— ๋‚˜๋Š” ํ•„์‚ฌ์ ์œผ๋กœ ๊ณ ๊ฐœ๋ฅผ ๋„๋•์˜€๋‹ค. ์ด๊ฑด ๋ฌด์„œ์šด ์ •๋„๊ฐ€ ์•„๋‹ˆ๋ผ ์•„์ฃผ ๊ฒ์ด ๋‚˜ ๋ฏธ์น  ์ง€๊ฒฝ์ด๋‹ค. ์—ฌ์ž ์นœ๊ตฌ๋„ ์‚ฌ๊ท€์–ด ๋ณธ ์  ์—†๋Š” ๋‚˜๋”๋Ÿฌ ์œ ๋ถ€๋…€๋ฅผ ๊ผฌ์‹œ๋ผ๋‹ˆ. ๋ฌด์„ญ์ง€ ์•Š์„ ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€. ๊ทธ๋•Œ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋‹ค์‹œ ํ•œ๋ฒˆ ๋‚ด ์†์„ ์žก์œผ๋ฉฐ ํ•œ ๋ฒˆ๋„ ๋“ค์€ ์  ์—†๋Š” ๋ถ€๋“œ๋Ÿฌ์šด ๋ชฉ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๋กœ ๋งํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๊ฑฑ์ •ํ•  ๊ฑฐ ์—†์–ด์š”. ์ƒ๋Œ€๋Š” ์™ธ๋กœ์šด ์œ ๋ถ€๋…€๋ผ ๋งˆ์Œ๊ป ๊ผฌ์…”๋„ ๋ผ์š”. ์œ ๋ถ€๋…€๋ฅผ ๊ผฌ์‹œ๋Š” ๊ฐ€์žฅ ํšจ๊ณผ์ ์ธ ๋ฐฉ๋ฒ•์ด ๋ฐ”๋กœ ์„ฑ์š•์„ ์ž๊ทนํ•˜๋Š” ๊ฑฐ์˜ˆ์š”.โ€ โ€œ์„ฑ์š•์ด ํ•œ๋ฒˆ ๋“์–ด์˜ค๋ฅด๋ฉด ๋์ด ์—†๊ฑฐ๋“ ์š”. ๊ทธ๋•Œ๊ฐ€ ๋˜๋ฉด ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ๋Š” ์•„๋ฌด๊ฒƒ๋„ ์•ˆ ํ•ด๋„ ๋ชจ๋“  ์ผ์ด ํ’€๋ฆด ๊ฑฐ์˜ˆ์š”. ์•Œ์•˜์–ด์š”?โ€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ฑด์„ฑ์œผ๋กœ ๊ณ ๊ฐœ๋ฅผ ๋„๋•์˜€์ง€๋งŒ ์ƒ๊ฐ์€ ์ด๋ฏธ ๋‹ค๋ฅธ ๋ฐ๋กœ ๋‚ ์•„๊ฐ€ ๋ฒ„๋ ธ๋‹ค. ๋จธ๋ฆฟ์†์—๋Š” ์•„์นจ์— ๋“ค์€ ์žฅ๋ฉด์ด ๋– ์˜ฌ๋ž๊ณ , ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜์˜ ๊ฐ€์Šด์ด ์–ผ๋งˆ๋‚˜ ๋งคํ˜น์ ์ผ์ง€ ์ƒ์ƒํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ๋ฐ ํ•˜ํ•„์ด๋ฉด ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๊ทธ๊ฑธ ๋ณด๊ณ  ๋ง์•˜๋‹ค. โ€œ๋‚˜ ์ปค์š”?โ€ ๊ฐ‘์ž‘์Šค๋Ÿฌ์šด ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ฌผ์Œ์— ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋ฐ”์ง ๊ธด์žฅํ–ˆ๊ณ , ์ž…์ด ๋ฐ”์‹น ๋ง๋ผ ๋„‹์„ ์žƒ์€ ๋“ฏ ๋Œ€๋‹ตํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๋„ค.โ€ โ€œ๋งŒ์ง€๊ณ  ์‹ถ์–ด์š”?โ€ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ํ”ผ๊ฐ€ ๊ฑฐ๊พธ๋กœ ์†Ÿ๋Š” ๊ธฐ๋ถ„์ด ๋“ค์—ˆ๊ณ  ๋จธ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ์œ™์œ™ ์šธ๋ ค ์•„๋ฌด ๋ง๋„ ํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋•Œ, ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋‚ด ์ชฝ์œผ๋กœ ๊ฐ‘์ž๊ธฐ ๋ฐ”์‹น ๋‹ค๊ฐ€์™€ ๊ฐ€์Šด์„ ๋‚ด ๋ชธ์— ๋ˆŒ๋ €๋‹ค. ๊ทธ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„, ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋ฐ”๋ณด๋ผ๋„ ๋œ ๊ฒƒ์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ๋จธ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ์˜จํ†ต ๋ฐฑ์ง€์žฅ์ด ๋˜์–ด๋ฒ„๋ ธ๋‹ค. โ€œ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ๊ณ  ์‹ถ์œผ๋ฉด ์‹ถ์€ ๊ฑฐ์ฃ . ๋ฏผ๋งํ•ดํ•  ๊ฑฐ ๋ญ ์žˆ์–ด์š”? ์ด๊ฑด ์ธ๊ฐ„์˜ ๋ณธ๋Šฅ์ ์ธ ์š•๊ตฌ์˜ˆ์š”. ํ’€ ๋•Œ๋Š” ํ’€์–ด์•ผ ํ•œ๋‹ค๊ณ ์š”.โ€ ๊ฒฐ๊ตญ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์ฐธ์ง€ ๋ชปํ•˜๊ณ  ์ด๋ฅผ ์•…๋ฌผ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๋งŒ์ง€๊ณ  ์‹ถ์–ด์š”. ๊ทธ๊ฒƒ๋„ ์•„์ฃผ ๋งŽ์•„.โ€ โ€œํ•˜ํ•˜ํ•˜, ์ž˜ํ–ˆ์–ด์š”. ๋งˆ์Œ์ด ์‹œํ‚ค๋Š” ๋Œ€๋กœ ํ•ด ๋ด์š”. ๊ทธ๋Ÿผ ๋ฌด์„œ์šธ ๊ฑฐ ์—†์ž–์•„์š”. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ๊ทธ ์š•๊ตฌ๋Š” ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜ํ•œํ…Œ ํ’€์–ด์š”. ํ˜•์ˆ˜์ธ ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ์•„๋‹ˆ๋ผ. ์•Œ๊ฒ ์–ด์š”?โ€ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ๊ธฐ๋ถ„์ด ๋‚˜๋ฝ์œผ๋กœ ๋–จ์–ด์กŒ๋‹ค. โ€˜๋‚œ ๋˜ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜์ด ๋‚˜ํ•œํ…Œ ๋ชธ ๋ฐ”์น˜๋ ค ํ•˜๋Š” ์ค„ ์•Œ์•˜๋Š”๋ฐ ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ๋Œ€๋‹ดํ•ด์ง€๋Š”์ง€ ๊ฐ€๋ฅด์ณ์ฃผ๋Š” ๊ฑฐ์˜€์ž–์•„.โ€™ โ€˜ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ์˜คํžˆ๋ ค ์ข‹์•„. ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๋งŒ์•ฝ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์™€ ๋ฌด์Šจ ์ผ์ด๋ผ๋„ ์ƒ๊ธฐ๋ฉด ํ˜•ํ•œํ…Œ ๋ฏธ์•ˆํ•ด์„œ ์–ด๋–กํ•ด?โ€™ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋” ์ด์ƒ ์ฐธ์„ ์ˆ˜ ์—†์–ด ๋ฐฐ๊ฐ€ ์•„ํ”„๋‹ค๋Š” ํ•‘๊ณ„๋ฅผ ๋Œ€๊ณ  ์–ผ๋ฅธ ํ™”์žฅ์‹ค๋กœ ๋‹ฌ๋ ค๊ฐ”๋‹ค. ๋ฐฉ๊ธˆ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๋„์™€ ๋งˆ์‚ฌ์ง€ํ•  ๋•Œ๋ถ€ํ„ฐ ์ฐธ๊ธฐ ํž˜๋“ค์—ˆ๋Š”๋ฐ, ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๊ฑด๋“œ๋ฆฌ๊ธฐ๊นŒ์ง€ ํ•˜๋‹ˆ ์•„๋ž˜๊ฐ€ ํ„ฐ์งˆ ๊ฒƒ๋งŒ ๊ฐ™์•˜๋‹ค. ๋ฌผ๋ก  ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ์†์žฅ๋‚œ๋„ ์ ๋‹นํžˆ ํ•˜๋ฉด ๋ชธ์— ์ข‹๊ณ  ์ง€๋‚˜์น˜๋ฉด ๋ชธ์ด ์ƒํ•œ๋‹ค๊ณ  ํ–ˆ์ง€๋งŒ, ์ด ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ๋” ์ด์ƒ ์ฐธ์„ ์ˆ˜ ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ๋œป๋ฐ–์—๋„ ๋ชฉ์š• ํƒ€์›”์„ ์˜ฌ๋ ค๋†“๋Š” ์„ ๋ฐ˜ ์œ„์—์„œ ์—ฌ์ž ํŒฌํ‹ฐ ํ•œ ์žฅ์„ ๋ฐœ๊ฒฌํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๊นŠ์ด ์ƒ๊ฐํ•˜์ง€ ์•Š์•„๋„ ์•Œ ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ์—ˆ๋‹ค. ์ด ํŒฌํ‹ฐ์˜ ์ฃผ์ธ์ด ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋ผ๋Š” ๊ฑธ. ๊ทธ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ๊ทธ ํŒฌํ‹ฐ๋ฅผ ๊ฐ€์ ธ์•ผ ํ• ์ง€ ๋ง์•„์•ผ ํ• ์ง€ ์ˆ˜์—†์ด ๊ณ ๋ฏผํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ์ด๋‚ด ๋ˆˆ์„ ๊ฐ๊ณ  ๋งˆ์Œ์„ ์ง„์ •ํ•˜๋ ค๊ณ  ํ–ˆ์œผ๋‚˜, ํ•˜ํ•„์ด๋ฉด ๋จธ๋ฆฟ์†์— ์•„์นจ์— ๋ดค๋˜ ์žฅ๋ฉด์ด ๋– ์˜ฌ๋ž๋‹ค. ์‹ฌ์ง€์–ด ๋งˆ์Œ์†์—์„œ ์•…๋งˆ์˜ ์†์‚ญ์ž„์ด ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ์œ ํ˜นํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€˜์†์žฅ๋‚œํ•˜๋Š” ๊ฒƒ๋ฟ์ธ๋ฐ, ๊ทธ๊ฑด ๊ดœ์ฐฎ์ž–์•„. ์ด๊ฑด ์‰ฝ๊ฒŒ ์–ป์„ ์ˆ˜ ์—†๋Š” ๊ธฐํšŒ๋ผ๊ณ , ๋†“์น˜๋ฉด ์•ž์œผ๋กœ๋Š” ๊ธฐํšŒ๋„ ์—†์–ด.โ€™ ๊ฒฐ๊ตญ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ทธ ์†์‚ญ์ž„์— ๋„˜์–ด๊ฐ€ ์ €๋„ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒŒ ํŒฌํ‹ฐ๋ฅผ ํ–ฅํ•ด ์†์„ ๋ป—์—ˆ๋‹ค. ์ œ4ํ™” ํŒฌํ‹ฐ๋Š” ๋ถ€๋“œ๋Ÿฝ๊ณ  ๋‚˜๋ฅธํ•œ ๋ฐ๋‹ค ์‹ฌ์ง€์–ด ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ƒ„์ƒˆ๊นŒ์ง€ ๋ฐฐ์–ด ์žˆ์—ˆ๋‹ค. ์†์— ๊ฐ๊ฐ์ด ๋А๊ปด์ง€์ž ์ €๋„ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒŒ ์•„์นจ์— ๋ชฐ๋ž˜ ์—ฟ๋“ค์—ˆ๋˜ ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ๋‡Œ๋ฆฌ์— ์žฌ์ƒ๋˜๋ฉฐ ์ ์ฐจ ํฅ๋ถ„๋˜์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€˜ํ˜•์ˆ˜์™€ ๋ญ˜ ์ง„์งœ๋กœ ํ•  ์ˆ˜๋Š” ์—†์ง€๋งŒ ํŒฌํ‹ฐ๋กœ ์ƒ์ƒํ•˜๋Š” ๊ฑด ๊ดœ์ฐฎ์ž–์•„.โ€™ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์†์œผ๋กœ ์ด๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ์ค‘์–ผ๊ฑฐ๋ฆฌ๋ฉฐ ๋ฒจํŠธ๋ฅผ ํ’€๊ณ  ํŒฌํ‹ฐ๋ฅผ ๋ฐ€์–ด ๋„ฃ์—ˆ๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ๋‚ด ์†์ด ์•„๋ž˜์— ๋‹ฟ์œผ๋ ค ํ•  ๋•Œ ๋…ธํฌ ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ๋“ค๋ ธ๊ณ , ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ๋†€๋ž€ ๋‚˜๋จธ์ง€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ทธ๋Œ€๋กœ ๋ฟœ์„ ๋ป”ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€˜์ง‘์— ๋‚˜์™€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜ ๋‘˜๋ฟ์ด๋‹ˆ ๋…ธํฌํ•œ ์‚ฌ๋žŒ์€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜์ด๊ฒ ์ง€?โ€™ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์„œ๋‘˜๋Ÿฌ ๊ทธ ํŒฌํ‹ฐ๋ฅผ ๊บผ๋‚ด ๋ชฉ์š• ํƒ€์›” ์„ ๋ฐ˜ ์œ„์— ์˜ฌ๋ ค๋‹ค ๋†“๊ณ  ๋‚˜์„œ ์กฐ์‹ฌ์Šค๋Ÿฝ๊ฒŒ ๋งํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜, ์™œ ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ์„ธ์š”?โ€ โ€œ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ, ์•ˆ์—์„œ ๋ฌด์Šจ ๋‚˜์œ ์ง“ ํ–ˆ์–ด์š”?โ€ โ€˜์ด๋Ÿฐ ๋ง์„ ๋ฌป๋Š”๋‹ค๊ณ ?โ€™ โ€œ๋„ค? ์•„, ์•„๋‹ˆ์š”.โ€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์ฐ”๋ ค์„œ ๋ง์„ ๋”๋“ฌ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ๋ฐ ์™œ ๊ทธ๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ๋–จ์–ด์š”?โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ํ•œ๋งˆ๋””์— ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ฐ€์Šด์ด ์ฒ ๋ ํ•ด ์‹์€๋•€์„ ์ค„์ค„ ํ˜๋ ธ๋‹ค. โ€˜ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ์•„๋ฌด๋ฆฌ ๊ฐœ๋ฐฉ์ ์ด๋ผ๊ณ  ํ•ด๋„ ๋ณธ์ธ๊ณผ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์•ˆ ๋œ๋‹ค๊ณ  ๋ช…ํ™•ํžˆ ๋งํ–ˆ๋Š”๋ฐ, ๋งŒ์•ฝ ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ํŒฌํ‹ฐ๋ฅผ ๊ฐ€์ง€๊ณ  ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ ์ง“์„ ํ•œ ๊ฑธ ๋“คํ‚ค๋ฉด ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๋ณธ์ธ ๋ง์„ ์•ˆ ๋“ฃ๋Š”๋‹ค๊ณ  ์ƒ๊ฐํ•ด ์ซ“์•„๋‚ด๋ฉด ์–ด๋–กํ•˜์ง€?โ€™ ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ์ด ์ƒํ™ฉ์„ ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ์„ค๋ช…ํ•ด์•ผ ํ• ์ง€ ๋ชฐ๋ผ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์• ์จ ์„ค๋ช…ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์ •๋ง ์•„๋ฌด๊ฒƒ๋„ ์•„๋‹ˆ์—์š”. ๋ฐฐ๊ฐ€ ์•„ํŒŒ์„œ ์‹์€๋•€์ด ๋‚œ ๊ฒƒ๋ฟ์ด์—์š”.โ€ โ€œ๊ฐ‘์ž๊ธฐ ์‹์€๋•€์ด ์™œ ๋‚˜์š”? ํ˜น์‹œ ์–ด๋”” ์•„ํŒŒ์š”?โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ์ด๋‚ด ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๊ฑฑ์ •ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์ €๋„ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒ ์–ด์š”. ๊ทธ๋ƒฅ ์ข€ ๋ถˆํŽธํ•ด์š”.โ€ โ€œ๋ฌธ ์ข€ ์—ด์–ด๋ด์š”. ์–ด๋”” ๋ด๋ด์š”.โ€ โ€œ์ด, ์ด์ œ ๊ดœ์ฐฎ์•„์š”.โ€ โ€œ๋‚ด์™ธํ•  ๊ฑฐ ๋ญ ์žˆ์–ด์š”? ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ ๋‚ด ๋ˆˆ์—๋Š” ์•„์ง ์• ์˜ˆ์š”. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ๋‹ˆ ์–ผ๋ฅธ ๋ฌธ ์—ด์–ด์š”.โ€ ๊ทธ ๋ง์„ ๋“ค์€ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ์‹ค๋ง๊ฐ์ด ํœ˜๋ชฐ์•„์ณค๋‹ค. โ€˜๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜ ๋ˆˆ์— ๊ณ ์ž‘ ์• ์˜€๋‹ค๋‹ˆ. ์–ด์ฉ์ง€ ๋‚ด ์•ž์—์„œ ๊ฑฐ์นจ์—†๋”๋ผ๋‹ˆ. ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ ์ƒ๋Œ€๋กœ ํ•œ ๋ฒˆ๋„ ์ƒ๊ฐํ•˜์ง€ ์•Š์•˜๋‚˜ ๋ณด๋„ค.โ€™ ๋‚˜๋Š” ํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ์ˆ™์—ฌ ํ™”์žฅ์‹ค ๋ฌธ์„ ์—ด์—ˆ๋‹ค. ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋“ค์–ด์˜ค์ž๋งˆ์ž ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๋ณด๋Š” ๊ฒŒ ์•„๋‹ˆ๋ผ ๋ชฉ์š• ํƒ€์›”์„ ๋†“์€ ์„ ๋ฐ˜ ์œ„๋ฅผ ํ™•์ธํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋งˆ์Œ์ด ์ฐ”๋ ค ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ˆˆ์„ ๋งˆ์ฃผ์น  ์ˆ˜ ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋•Œ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ์„ ๋ฐ˜ ์ชฝ์œผ๋กœ ๊ฑธ์–ด๊ฐ€๋”๋‹ˆ ๋‚˜ํ•œํ…Œ ์›ƒ์œผ๋ฉฐ ๋ฌผ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œํ˜น์‹œ ๋‚ด ํŒฌํ‹ฐ ๊ฑด๋“œ๋ ธ์–ด์š”?โ€ โ€œ์•„, ์•„๋‹ˆ์š”.โ€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋‹ค๊ธ‰ํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๊ณ ๊ฐœ๋ฅผ ํ”๋“ค์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์ •๋ง์ด์—์š”? ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ๋ฐ ์–ผ๊ตด์€ ์™œ ๊ทธ๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ๋นจ๊ฐœ์š”? ์†”์งํžˆ ๋งํ•ด์š”. ๋ฐฉ๊ธˆ ๋‚ด ํŒฌํ‹ฐ๋กœ ๋‚˜์œ ์ง“ ํ•˜๋ ค๊ณ  ํ–ˆ๋Š”๋ฐ ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๋ฐฉํ•ดํ•œ ๊ฑฐ์ฃ ? ๊ทธ๋ž˜์„œ ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๋“ค์–ด์˜ค๋Š” ๊ฑธ ๋ฌด์„œ์›Œํ–ˆ๋˜ ๊ฑฐ๊ณ ?โ€ โ€˜๋ญ์•ผ? ์ฒœ๋ฆฌ์•ˆ์ด๋ผ๋„ ์ง€๋…”๋‚˜? ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ์ €๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ๊ท€์‹ ๊ฐ™์ด ๋‹ค ์•Œ์ง€?โ€™ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ์œ„์•„๋ž˜๋กœ ํ›‘๋”๋‹ˆ ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๊ตฌ๋ถ€๋ฆฐ ์ฑ„ ์ผ์–ด๋‚˜์ง€ ๋ชปํ•˜์ž ์˜์‹ฌ์˜ ๋ˆˆ์ดˆ๋ฆฌ๋กœ ๋ฐ”๋ผ๋ดค๋‹ค. โ€œ๋˜‘๋ฐ”๋กœ ์„œ์š”.โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ์ง€๊ทธ์‹œ ๋ฐ”๋ผ๋ณด๋ฉฐ ๋งํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ช…์„ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์–ด๊ธธ ์ˆ˜ ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๋ชธ์„ ๊ณง๊ฒŒ ํŽธ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ๋‚œ๊ฐํ•œ ์ƒํƒœ์ธ ๊ฒƒ์ด ๋ฐ”๋กœ ๋“ค์ผœ๋ฒ„๋ ธ๋‹ค. ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋„ ๊ทธ๊ฑธ ๋ณธ ๊ฒŒ ํ‹€๋ฆผ์—†๋‹ค. ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋ˆˆ์„ ๊ฐ๊ณ  ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ˆˆ์„ ํ”ผํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ์ฒœ์ฒœํžˆ ๋‚ด ์•ž์— ๋ฌด๋ฆŽ์„ ๊ฟ‡๋Š” ๊ฒŒ ๊ณ ์Šค๋ž€ํžˆ ๋А๊ปด์กŒ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ๊ฐ€์Šด์ด ํŠ€์–ด๋‚˜์˜ฌ ๊ฒƒ๋งŒ ๊ฐ™์•˜๋‹ค. ๋ฌธ์ œ๋Š” ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋ญ˜ ํ•˜๋ ค๋Š”์ง€ ๋ชฐ๋ผ ๋„์ €ํžˆ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒ ๋‹ค๋Š” ๊ฑฐ์˜€๋‹ค. ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ์•ผ๋ฆ‡ํ•œ ์ž์„ธ์— ๋‚˜๋Š” ์ €๋„ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒŒ ์ด๋Ÿฐ์ €๋Ÿฐ ์ƒ์ƒ์„ ํ•˜๋ฉฐ ์ฒœ์ฒœํžˆ ๋ˆˆ์„ ๋–ด๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋žฌ๋”๋‹ˆ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋ฉํ•˜๋‹ˆ ๋‚ด ๊ทธ๊ณณ์„ ๋ฐ”๋ผ๋ณด๋ฉฐ ๊ฐํƒ„ํ•˜๋Š” ๊ฒŒ ์•„๋‹ˆ๊ฒ ๋Š”๊ฐ€? โ€œ๋™์„ฑ ์”จ๊ฐ€ ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ์ด๋žฌ์œผ๋ฉด ์–ผ๋งˆ๋‚˜ ์ข‹์„๊นŒ์š”?โ€ ๋™๊ฒฝ์ด ๊ฐ€๋“ํ•œ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ˆˆ๋น›์— ๋‚ด ๋จธ๋ฆฌ๋Š” ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ๋ฐฑ์ง€์žฅ์ด ๋˜์–ด๋ฒ„๋ ธ๊ณ , ๊ฐ€์Šด์€ ๋ฏธ์นœ ๋“ฏ์ด ์š”๋™์ณ ๋ฌด์Šจ ๋ง์„ ํ•ด์•ผ ํ• ์ง€ ๋ชฐ๋ž๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ๋ฐ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๊ทธ๊ณณ์„ ํ•œ์ฐธ ๋ฐ”๋ผ๋ณด๋”๋‹ˆ ๋‹ค์‹œ ์ผ์–ด๋‚ฌ๋‹ค. ๋‚˜๋Š” ์–ผ๋ฅธ ์†์œผ๋กœ ๊ทธ๊ณณ์„ ๋ง‰์•˜๋‹ค. โ€œ์•„์ง์€ ์š•๊ตฌ๋ฅผ ํ’€์ง€ ๋งˆ์š”. ๊ทธ๋ž˜์•ผ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๊ณต๋žตํ•  ๋™๋ ฅ์ด ์ƒ๊ธฐ์ฃ .โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋งํ•˜๋ฉด์„œ ๊ฐ‘์ž๊ธฐ ๋‚˜์—๊ฒŒ ๋ฐ”์‹น ๋‹ค๊ฐ€์™”๋‹ค. โ€œ์‚ฌ์‹ค ๋‚˜ ์ผ๋ถ€๋Ÿฌ ์ด๋Ÿฌ๋Š” ๊ฑฐ์˜ˆ์š”. ์ด๋Ÿฌ๋ฉด ์•ˆ ๋˜๋Š” ๊ฑฐ ์•„๋Š”๋ฐ ๋™์„ฑ ์”จ๋ฅผ ์œ„ํ•ด์„œ ์–ด์ฉ” ์ˆ˜ ์—†์–ด์š”. ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ๊ฐ€ ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ๋ถ€๋„๋Ÿผ์„ ํƒ€๋‹ˆ๊นŒ ์šฐ์„  ์ƒ๊ฐ์„ ์˜คํ”ˆํ•ด์•ผ์ฃ . ์† ์น˜์›Œ์š”. ๋‚˜๋„ ์‚ฐ์ „์ˆ˜์ „ ๊ฒช์€ ์‚ฌ๋žŒ์ธ๋ฐ, ์ด๋Ÿฐ ๊ฑธ ๋ชป ๊ฒช์–ด๋ดค์„๊นŒ์š”?โ€ โ€˜๊ทธ๋ž˜๋„ ์ด ๋ฐฉ๋ฒ•์€ ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ๋‚จ๋‹ค๋ฅธ ๊ฑฐ ์•„๋‹Œ๊ฐ€? ๋ชฉ์ˆจ์ด ๋‚จ์•„๋‚˜์งˆ ์•Š๋Š”๋‹ค๊ณ .โ€™ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์†์œผ๋กœ ์•„์šฐ์„ฑ์ณค๋‹ค. โ€œ๋‚˜์™€์š”. ์• ๊ตํ•œํ…Œ ์ „ํ™”ํ•  ๊ฑฐ๋‹ˆ๊นŒ ๊ฐ™์ด ์‡ผํ•‘ํ•˜๋ฉด์„œ ๋‘ ์‚ฌ๋žŒ ์ด์–ด์ค„๊ฒŒ์š”. ์˜ค๋Š˜ ์• ๊ต๊ฐ€ ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ๋ฅผ ์ง‘์— ์ดˆ๋Œ€ํ• ์ง€ ๊ธฐ๋Œ€๋˜๋„ค์š”. ์–ผ๋ฅธ ํ•ด๊ฒฐํ•ด์•ผ ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ ํ˜•๋„ค ํšŒ์‚ฌ๋„ ์–ผ๋ฅธ ์ œ์ž๋ฆฌ ์ฐพ์„ ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ์„ ๊ฑฐ์˜ˆ์š”.โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋ง์„ ๋งˆ์น˜์ž๋งˆ์ž ํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ํ”๋“ค๋ฉฐ ๋ฐ–์œผ๋กœ ๋‚˜๊ฐ€ ๋ฒ„๋ ธ๋‹ค. ํ™€๋กœ ๋‚จ๊ฒจ์ง„ ๋‚˜ ์—ญ์‹œ ๊ทธ์ œ์•ผ ํ™”์žฅ์‹ค์—์„œ ๋А๋ฆฟ๋А๋ฆฟ ๊ฑธ์–ด ๋‚˜์™”์ง€๋งŒ, ์†์€ ์˜จํ†ต ๋•€์œผ๋กœ ์ –์—ˆ๋‹ค. ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ์ฐธ๊ณ  ์žˆ์—ˆ๋˜ ํƒ“์ด์—ˆ๋‹ค. ํ˜•์ˆ˜ํ•œํ…Œ ๋งค๋ฒˆ ์ด๋Ÿฐ ์‹์œผ๋กœ ์ž๊ทน๋‹นํ•˜๊ณ  ์ œ๋Œ€๋กœ ํ’€ ์ˆ˜ ์—†์œผ๋‹ˆ ๋ฏธ์น  ๊ฒƒ๋งŒ ๊ฐ™์•˜๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ํ˜•์„ ์œ„ํ•ด์„œ ์ฐธ์„ ์ˆ˜๋ฐ–์— ์—†๋‹ค. ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ์†ŒํŒŒ์— ์•‰์•„ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์—๊ฒŒ ์ „ํ™”ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์•ˆ ๋‚˜๊ฐ€๊ฒ ๋‹ค๊ณ ? ์™œ? ์•ˆ๋ผ, ๋‚˜๋ž‘ ๋‚˜๊ฐ€์ž. ์•ˆ ๋‚˜๊ฐ€๋ฉด ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ๋”๋Ÿฌ ๋„ˆ ์•ˆ์•„์„œ ๋‚ด๋ ค์˜ค๋ผ๊ณ  ํ•œ๋‹ค?โ€ โ€œ๋ญ? ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๋„ˆ๋ฌดํ•˜๋‹ค๊ณ ? ๊ทธ๋ž˜, ๋‚˜ ์›๋ž˜ ์ด๋ž˜. ์–ด๋–กํ•  ๊ฑด๋ฐ?โ€ โ€œ๊ทธ๋ž˜, ๊ทธ๋Ÿผ ์•ฝ์†ํ•œ ๊ฑฐ๋‹ค? 5๋ถ„ ๋’ท๋ฌธ ์•ž์—์„œ ๊ธฐ๋‹ค๋ฆด๊ฒŒ.โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ์ „ํ™”๋ฅผ ๋Š์ž ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ํ–ฅํ•ด ์›ƒ์œผ๋ฉฐ ๋งํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œํ•ด๊ฒฐํ–ˆ์–ด์š”. ๊ฐ€์„œ ์˜ท ๊ฐˆ์•„์ž…์–ด์š”. ์ด๋”ฐ๊ฐ€ ์šด์ „ํ•ด์•ผ ํ•˜๋‹ˆ๊นŒ. ๊ธฐ์–ตํ•ด์š”, ์ž๊พธ ๋’ค์ชฝ์„ ๋ด์•ผ ํ•ด์š”, ์„œํ”„๋ผ์ด์ฆˆ๊ฐ€ ์žˆ์„ ํ…Œ๋‹ˆ๊นŒ.โ€ โ€œ๋„ค.โ€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์งค๋ง‰ํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๋Œ€๋‹ตํ•˜๊ณ  ๊ณง๋ฐ”๋กœ ์˜ท ๊ฐˆ์•„์ž…์œผ๋Ÿฌ ๊ฐ”๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ๋ฉด์„œ ๋‚ด์‹ฌ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋งํ•œ ์„œํ”„๋ผ์ด์ฆˆ๊ฐ€ ๋ญ˜๊นŒ ๊ธฐ๋Œ€ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ์ด๋‚ด ์˜ท์„ ๊ฐˆ์•„์ž…๊ณ  ํ˜•์ˆ˜์™€ ํ•จ๊ป˜ ๋ฌธ ์•ž์—์„œ ๊ธฐ๋‹ค๋ ธ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋žฌ๋”๋‹ˆ ์–ผ๋งˆ ์ง€๋‚˜์ง€ ์•Š์•„ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๊ฐ€ ๋‚˜์™”๋‹ค. ๋ถ‰์€ ์›ํ”ผ์Šค๋Š” ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ํ•˜์–€ ํ”ผ๋ถ€๋ฅผ ๋” ํฌ๊ฒŒ ๋งŒ๋“ค์—ˆ๊ณ , V๋„ฅ์ด๋ผ ๊ฐ€์Šด๊ณจ์ด ํ›คํžˆ ๋“œ๋Ÿฌ๋‚ฌ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๊ฑธ ๋ณธ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋„‹์„ ์žƒ๊ณ  ๋ง์•˜๋‹ค. โ€˜์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ๋ชธ๋งค๊ฐ€ ์ข‹์„ ์ค„์€ ์•Œ์•˜์ง€๋งŒ ์ด ์ •๋„์ผ ์ค„์ด์•ผ.โ€™ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ์ผ๋ถ€๋Ÿฌ ๋‚ด ๋ˆˆ์„ ํ”ผํ•˜๋ฉฐ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ํŒ”์งฑ์„ ๋ผ๋”๋‹ˆ ๋‚ด ์•ž์œผ๋กœ ์ง€๋‚˜๊ฐ”๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ ๋ฐ˜์‘์— ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋‹ต๋‹ตํ•˜๊ณ  ์†์ƒํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ์•„๊นŒ ๋งˆ์‚ฌ์ง€ํ•  ๋•Œ๋งŒ ํ•ด๋„ ๋ถ„๋ช… ์‚ด๊ฐ‘๊ฒŒ ๋Œ€ํ–ˆ๋Š”๋ฐ, ์™œ ๊ฐ‘์ž๊ธฐ ์ด๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ์ฐจ๊ฐ€์›Œ์กŒ๋Š”์ง€. ์‹ฌ์ง€์–ด ๋‚ด ๋ˆˆ๋„ ์•ˆ ๋งˆ์ฃผ์น˜๊ณ  ์žˆ๋‹ค. โ€˜์„ค๋งˆ ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ๋ฌด๋ก€ํ•ด์„œ ํ™”๋‚ฌ๋‚˜?โ€™ ์šฐ๋ฆฌ๋Š” ๊ณง์žฅ ๊ณ„๋‹จ์„ ๋‚ด๋ ค๊ฐ”๋‹ค. ๊ทธ ์‚ฌ์ด ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ํ˜•์ˆ˜์™€ ์›ƒ๊ณ  ๋– ๋“ค์—ˆ์ง€๋งŒ ๋‚˜๋Š” ํ˜ผ์ž ๊ฟ”๋‹ค ๋†“์€ ๋ณด๋”ฐ๋ฆฌ์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ์˜†์— ๋ฉ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ๋‹ˆ ์„œ ์žˆ์—ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๊ฒŒ ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ๋‹ต๋‹ตํ•˜๊ณ  ๊ดด๋กœ์› ์ง€๋งŒ ์ฐจ์— ํƒ€์ž๋งˆ์ž ๊ฐ‘์ž๊ธฐ ๋’ค๋ฅผ ๋Œ์•„๋ณด๋ฉด ์„œํ”„๋ผ์ด์ฆˆ๊ฐ€ ์žˆ์„ ๊ฑฐ๋ผ๋˜ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ง์ด ๋– ์˜ฌ๋ž๋‹ค. ๊ทธ ์„œํ”„๋ผ์ด์ฆˆ๊ฐ€ ๋ฌด์—‡์ธ์ง€ ๊ถ๊ธˆํ•˜์—ฌ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ณ„์† ๋ฐฑ๋ฏธ๋Ÿฌ๋กœ ๋’ค๋ฅผ ํž๋”๊ฑฐ๋ ธ๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์™€ ์›ƒ๊ณ  ๋– ๋“ค๊ธฐ๋งŒ ํ•  ๋ฟ, ๊ธฐ๋Œ€ํ–ˆ๋˜ ์„œํ”„๋ผ์ด์ฆˆ๋Š” ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜, ์šฐ๋ฆฌ ์–ด๋”” ๊ฐ€์š”?โ€ ๊ธธ์„ ๋ฌผ์–ด๋ณธ๋‹ค๋Š” ๊ฑธ ํ•‘๊ณ„ ์‚ผ์•„ ๋˜ ํ•œ ๋ฒˆ ๋’ค๋Œ์•„๋ดค์ง€๋งŒ ์—ฌ์ „ํžˆ ์„œํ”„๋ผ์ด์ฆˆ๋Š” ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์™€ ๋ˆˆ๋น›์ด ๋งˆ์ฃผ์นœ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„, ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ์–ผ๊ตด์ด ๋นจ๊ฐ›๊ฒŒ ๋‹ฌ์•„์˜ค๋ฅด๋”๋‹ˆ ์ด๋‚ด ์‹œ์„ ์„ ํ”ผํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๊ฑด ๋‹นํ™ฉํ•˜๊ณ  ์ดˆ์กฐํ•ดํ•˜๋Š” ๋ˆˆ๋น›์ด ํ‹€๋ฆผ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ๋‚ด ๊ฐ€์Šด์€ ์ฒ ๋  ๋‚ด๋ ค์•‰์•˜๋‹ค. ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ์ง€๊ธˆ ํ™”๋‚˜ ์žˆ๋Š” ๊ฒŒ ์•„๋‹ˆ๋ผ ๋‚˜์™€ ์ธ์„ ์ด์–ด๊ฐˆ์ง€ ๊ณ ๋ฏผํ•˜๋Š” ๊ฑฐ์˜€๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๊ฑธ ์ธ์ง€ํ•˜์ž ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ธฐ์จ์„ ์ฃผ์ฒดํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๊ฑด ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋„ ๋‚˜ํ•œํ…Œ ๋งˆ์Œ์ด ์žˆ๋‹ค๋Š” ๋œป์ด์—ˆ์œผ๋‹ˆ. โ€œ๊ด‘ํ™”๋ฌธ ๊ด‘์žฅ์œผ๋กœ ๊ฐ€์š”.โ€ โ€œ๋„ค.โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ง์— ๋‚˜๋Š” ์งค๋ง‰ํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๋Œ€๋‹ตํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ๊ณ ๋Š” ๊ณง์žฅ ํ•ธ๋“œํฐ์„ ๊บผ๋‚ด ๊ธธ์„ ๊ฒ€์ƒ‰ํ•˜๊ณ ๋Š” ์‹œ๋™์„ ๊ฑธ์—ˆ๋‹ค. ์ฐจ๊ฐ€ ์ •์ฒด ๊ตฌ๊ฐ„์— ์ด๋ฅด์ž ์ข€์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ์†๋„๊ฐ€ ๋‚˜์ง€ ์•Š์•„ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋‹ค์‹œ ๋’ค๋ฅผ ํ˜๋”๊ฑฐ๋ ธ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ  ๊ทธ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๊ฐ€ ํŒฌํ‹ฐ๋ฅผ ๋‚ด๋ฆฌ๋Š” ๋ชจ์Šต์„ ๋ด๋ฒ„๋ ธ๋‹ค. LEARN_MORE https://operkn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=11942&u ๋‚จ์„ฑ ์†Œ์„ค ๋ชจ์Œ https://www.facebook.com/61560317043692/ 135 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 operkn.com IMAGE https://operkn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=11942&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/t39.35426-6/476359457_1068657881974299_3048820725284479605_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=aD58lda3Y08Q7kNvgHU2J_r&_nc_oc=AdgVuKF_KfVqTtbHagEGD__L-F-x5q9Y0w45zrwGgV-LUv1R3zgHADYIfHq20eTv0iI9EmTNJgw3KxRSVraZt0uN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AawgtjS7w9dz3g7jjnK-Kzy&oh=00_AYCTYIKmwhlliYeF2Z_Si-yKl_Gpd85L2X4yfVYKIkIqcQ&oe=67CC296E PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 ๋‚จ์„ฑ ์†Œ์„ค ๋ชจ์Œ 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2025-03-03 18:57 active 2790 0 VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE http://instagram.com/storybookbasics Storybookbasics Connected Page https://www.facebook.com/61554978158289/ 1 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Visit Instagram Profile 0 instagram.com CAROUSEL http://instagram.com/storybookbasics 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481706747_507201045444113_7297784698776476554_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=0nXb3zwr0fAQ7kNvgH2ZKXu&_nc_oc=AdjwZ1z7LgML6wI7U65WMHz2pZ_5KvW1wLG1heERGcokGB6DRMz_KfVS6NFgFq77DUSwYULBj84MDbIno9yoF5IU&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AaVW1ZEf7xkTAclSFhDpCOl&oh=00_AYAfF4P310MPRaZUF3NJIemfZ4xnQNL3JiUXRURiFchlmA&oe=67CC3500 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Storybookbasics Connected Page 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2025-03-03 18:27 active 2789 0 ๐Ÿ€BIG MARCH SALE๐Ÿ€ New deals on flat irons, Hair dryers and even YARA perfumeโ€ผ๏ธ๐Ÿ˜ฑ MUST LIKE, SHARE & TAG YOUR FRIENDS TO unlock DEALS ๐Ÿ”“& be entered into the March giveawayโ€ผ๏ธ Only @ Hair Que Kenmore ๐Ÿ“524 Kenmore Ave โ˜Ž๏ธ(716) 322-0068 MESSAGE_PAGE Hair Que Kenmore https://www.facebook.com/100067542791346/ 1,144 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Send message 0 MULTI_IMAGES 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481184959_9621801914529961_4376231407435347113_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=sclFBVVIc0QQ7kNvgFwaVux&_nc_oc=Adimw5iG-SBBz5UV2ZwJVVzu96ZWlpd2lNMXHy8p-GlVAmPz7_1GQNbOAkl1VXrZrcmeZG3nJAjk2Uvn8tR2bD7r&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AM--rvGiPhWHL6qw1ijI4Mt&oh=00_AYAOpNtUWnQ3N62fYD5f8Ea679laS70s4MPEUtRelkj8kQ&oe=67CC1A95 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Hair Que Kenmore 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2025-03-03 19:10 active 2791 0 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 Ethanโ€ฆ" 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 bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d 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 b*dmates, 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 b*d, 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 b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "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 m*rk 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 thoughtโ€ฆ 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 dayโ€ฆ Ethan will end up in my b*d 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 b**ch! 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 fiancรฉe'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 justโ€ฆ 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 gr*aning 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? 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Yes 2025-03-03 19:11 active 2791 0 ๐Ÿ”ฅ๐Ÿ”ฅClick to read the next chapter for free๐Ÿ‘‰ The brilliant lights in the hall dimmed, leaving a concentrated glow upon the stage. The bride and groom stood bathed in radianceโ€”she in her flowing white gown, he in his impeccably tailored suit. They were the perfect picture of beauty and elegance. The background music shifted, rising into a crescendo, infusing the air with a palpable sense of excitement. The wedding ceremony had reached its peak. Deidre clasped her left hand over her right, her palms damp with sweat beneath the delicate white gloves. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, each beat echoing like a drum in her ears. She was so nervous it felt as though her heart might leap into her throat. Her gaze settled on the man before her, a mix of elation and unease swirling within her. Micah Landonโ€”one of Salve City's most eligible bachelors, heir to one of its most powerful familiesโ€”was about to marry her. It felt surreal, like a fairy tale come to life. A Cinderella marrying her prince, with all the incredulity that entailed. Micah stood tall in his sharply cut suit, his handsome face composed, his demeanor radiating charm and distinction. The unframed glasses perched on his high-bridged nose softened the sharpness of his features, lending his eyes a gentle warmth that seemed deeper than usual. "And now, let's have the bride and groom exchange rings!" The emcee's voice was vibrant, his enthusiasm infectious. A poised bridesmaid stepped forward, carrying a tray with a red velvet base upon which the wedding rings rested. Micah's gaze lowered to the open ring box, and for a fleeting moment, his calm faรงade faltered. His gentle, smiling expression froze ever so slightly. The warmth and softness in his eyes disappeared entirely, replaced by an unfamiliar coldness. Deidre followed his gaze to the rings, her brow furrowing in confusion. These weren't the rings they had chosen together. What was going on? Micah's hand hovered over the ring box but didn't move to pick one up. An awkward pause settled over the ceremony. The emcee hesitated, his expression reflecting the growing tension in the room. Then a shout broke through the silence. "What's that on the screen?" Heads turned toward the massive display behind them. Deidre instinctively followed their gaze. The screen, which had been playing a slideshow of their sweet, romantic pre-wedding photos, now displayed a completely different set of images. The pictures still showed a man and a woman, but the man wasn't Micah. The first photo revealed Deidre being intimately embraced by a stranger outside a hotel. The next showed her leaning into the same man in a hotel room, their bodies close on a bed. The lively background music continued to play, a jarring contrast to the now stifling atmosphere. Whispers swept through the crowd, their eyes darting toward Deidre. Daring to humiliate Micah, the powerful and revered heir, on his wedding day? And this bride, from her modest family background, had the audacity to wear such a scandalous stain on her character? Deidre felt as if lightning had struck her. Panic surged through her as she snapped her gaze toward Micah. His attention was fixed on the screen. The light from the display reflected off his glasses, making it impossible for Deidre to discern his expression. But the tight line of his lips and the vein bulging at his temple revealed enough. A cold blade seemed to pierce her chest, twisting sharply. The once cheerful wedding music now felt like a cruel mockery. "Micah, I didn'tโ€”" Deidre started, her voice trembling. Micah's gaze finally shifted to her, his eyes icy and unreadable behind his glasses. The storm brewing in them made her heart sink further. "Iโ€ฆ" She wanted to explain, but no words came. The images on the screen were a mystery to her. She had no memory of them, no explanation for their existence. Who would do this to her? Who would want to ruin her like this? Micah's expression grew colder, a mocking glint appearing in his eyes. He didn't say a word. Instead, he glanced at the bridesmaid holding the tray of rings. He picked up one of the rings, turned sharply, and walked away. "Micah, don't go!" Deidre cried, lifting the hem of her gown as she rushed after him. She grabbed his hand, desperate to stop him. He halted briefly, turning to look at her. His lips curved in a faint, mocking smile, his voice low and biting. "This weddingโ€ฆ" He trailed off, his gaze flicking back to the screen where yet another photo appearedโ€”Deidre asleep in bed, her features serene. Beside her, the same stranger propped his head on one hand, gazing at her with a tenderness that seemed all too intimate. Micah's faint smirk turned into a derisive laugh. "โ€ฆis off." Each word struck Deidre like an arrow, sinking deep into her heart and leaving a searing pain in their wake. He shook off her hand with enough force to send her stumbling backward. She staggered, unable to steady herself, and fell to the ground, her pristine white gown pooling around her like a defeated flag. Chapter 2 The wedding host, visibly flustered as the groom turned and walked away, hastily gestured to the sound engineer to cut the music. As the cheerful background tunes abruptly ceased, the atmosphere shifted, the murmur of the crowd swelling into an unabashed roar of judgment and speculation. "They've been engaged for over a year, and now this scene unfolds at the wedding? Utter humiliation," someone remarked loudly. "She looks so pure, doesn't she? But clearly, she's got other, shall we say, talents that hooked Micah. Guess she practiced those talents with plenty of others. Walk along the river long enough, and you'll get your feet wet. Someone probably got fed up and exposed her. Tsk, tsk." That particular comment sliced through the air like a shard of glass, sharp and cutting. "Nonsense! I didn't do any of that!" Deidre screamed, her voice raw with desperation. Her outburst only added fuel to the fire. None of the attendees spared her even a modicum of sympathy. They were there for the prestige of the Landon family. Now that she had been abandoned by Micah, who was she to them? A nobody, someone to ridicule without consequence. "Look at her, losing her temper. How unsightly." "Exactly. Instead of finding a hole to crawl into, she's still yelling at others." "Such shameless defiance. Playing the victim while pretending to be saintlyโ€”what a joke." "If my daughter ever turned out like this, I'd beat her to death." "Let's go. The wedding's clearly over." The voices piled up, overlapping in waves of cruelty. Deidre's head buzzed with a hollow static. None of it made sense. How had the day turned into this nightmare? No. It couldn't end like this. She slipped off her high heels, hoisting up the heavy layers of her wedding gown, and ran after Micah. Outside the hotel, Micah stood by the open door of his car, flipping through some documents. The sight of him brought a glimmer of hope to Deidre's heart, and she quickened her steps. "Micah!" she called out, her voice trembling with both fear and longing. His hand froze mid-turn, but he didn't look up. Tears welled in Deidre's reddened eyes. "How can you just leave me like this? How can you believe those photos without even hearing me out?" Micah finally lifted his gaze, his eyes cold and detached, like a winter wind slicing through her skin. "One week ago," he began, his voice steady but unyielding, "Westin Hotel, Room 309. Was it you?" The precision of his words hit her like a jolt. A specific time, a specific placeโ€”her memory stirred reluctantly to life. Her breath hitched as fragments resurfaced. She had been there. It was her sister Valerie's 18th birthday party, and they'd forced a bottle of whiskey down her throat. The next thing she remembered was waking up alone in that hotel room with a splitting headache. The images from the wedding screen replayed in her mind, overlapping with her fragmented recollection. Could it be? But noโ€”when she had woken up that morning, she was alone. There had been no one else, she was sure of it. Her silence spoke volumes. "Can't answer, can you?" Micah's voice dripped with disdain, dragging her back to the present. "I was there, yes, butโ€”" she began, desperate to explain. "Spare me your excuses," he cut her off icily. He thrust the documents in his hand toward her. "Take a good look. No one's an idiot here." Mechanically, Deidre accepted them, her hands trembling. Her eyes skimmed over the pagesโ€”photographs, so many photographs. Many were the same ones that had been displayed on the wedding screen, but theseโ€ฆ these included more. Her breath caught in her throat. Among the images, her sister Valerie appeared too, unmistakably linked to the events captured. "This isn't real," Deidre stammered. "I'll call Valerieโ€”she'll explain. This is all a misunderstanding. That nightโ€”sheโ€”" Her frantic words were abruptly silenced as Micah seized her chin, forcing her to look at him. "It's over, Deidre," he said quietly. His gaze locked onto hers, unyielding. She saw her own desperation reflected in the lenses of his frameless glasses, his eyes devoid of warmth or mercy. His voice dropped to a chilling whisper. "If only you'd stayed obedient. But there are no 'if onlys.' You hid it well these past two years. I almost believed in you, fooled by that face of yours. But you're tainted. In the end, it was my mistake for thinking you could ever compare to her." Her mind stumbled over his words, catching on one fragment: "Her." Who was he talking about? Before she could grasp it, Micah let out a bitter laugh. With his free hand, he pulled a ring box from his pocket, opening it with a flick of his thumb. Chapter 3 Deidre recognized the wedding ringโ€”it was the same unfamiliar one that had appeared earlier at the ceremony. Micah's voice broke through the heavy air, low and dripping with disdain. "You're not worthy of this ring." Her heart shuddered at his words, and pain flared across her jaw as he harshly released her. Without so much as a glance back, he stepped into the car, slamming the door shut with finality. His expression remained cold as he instructed the driver, "Drive." Desperate, Deidre chased after the car, her bare feet burning against the scorching pavement. The southern Salve City was in the grip of a relentless summer heat, but she barely noticed. The pain in her feet seemed distant, insignificant compared to the ache in her chest. She ran with abandon, her cumbersome wedding gown tangling around her legs, until she tripped and fell hard onto the unforgiving ground. Her knees and elbows scraped against the rough asphalt, bleeding slightly. She looked utterly disheveled, a far cry from the radiant bride she had been moments ago. The driver, catching sight of her pitiful state in the rearview mirror, hesitated. His foot eased off the gas, and he ventured cautiously, "Young Master Micah, Miss Deidre isโ€”" "Did you not understand what I said earlier?" Micah's tone was sharp, cutting. "Yes, sir!" The driver stiffened, not daring to say another word. He pressed harder on the accelerator, and the car sped away. For a fleeting moment, Deidre thought she saw the car slow down. A glimmer of hope ignited in her eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it came. The car roared forward, disappearing into the distance, leaving her behind. She sat where she had fallen, her meticulously applied bridal makeup now smeared and ruined. The oppressive summer sun bore down on her, but she didn't care. Perhaps if her body suffered enough, her heart might hurt a little less. The sound of approaching heels broke through her haze. A shadow loomed over her, and Deidre slowly looked up to see Casey Landon standing before her, her elegant face frosty with disdain. Casey crouched down, bringing their gazes level. Her lips curled into a cold smile as she produced her phone, unlocking it and flipping through her photo album. She held it out for Deidre to see. "Take a good look. This is my brother's first love." Deidre's face drained of color the moment her eyes landed on the photo. The girl in the picture was young, no older than eighteen or nineteen. Her delicate features radiated joy, her hand raised in a playful gesture that highlighted the ring on her slender fingerโ€”a ring identical to the one Micah had just dismissed as unworthy of Deidre. Her breath caught. The resemblance was uncanny. The girl's eyes, especially, bore a startling similarity to her own. "This photo," Casey said coolly, "is why my brother took an interest in you." Deidre's mind reeled. 'You're not worthy of this ring.' Micah's words came rushing back, sharper than ever. "So, I'mโ€ฆ herโ€”" Deidre began, her voice trembling. "Her replacement," Casey finished mercilessly. Her tone was detached, but each syllable landed like a dagger to Deidre's heart. "Noโ€ฆ that can't be," Deidre murmured, her voice barely audible. Yet her body betrayed her denial, trembling uncontrollably. Though the summer heat was oppressive, she felt as if she had been plunged into an icy abyss. She was a joke. Right from the start, she had been nothing more than a substitute. Casey watched Deidre descent into despair with evident satisfaction, though her anger hadn't quite abated. She raised her hand and struck Deidre across the face. The slap echoed sharply. Deidre's head snapped to the side, her cheek instantly stinging with heat. A vivid red mark bloomed across her pale skin, the outline of fingers clear and unrelenting. "Today, you humiliated my brother in front of everyone," Casey said coldly. "You turned this wedding into the laughingstock of the entire Salve City's elite. You should be thankful my parents left in disgust early on. If they were still here, you wouldn't have gotten off with just a slap." Deidre bit her lip, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth. Slowly, she turned her face back to Casey, her eyes red-rimmed but resolute. Tears welled up but refused to fall. "I didn't do anything to betray him," she said through clenched teeth. "Spare me the pitiful act," Casey sneered. "Who do you think you're fooling?" Her disgust was unmistakable, simmering just beneath the surface. She straightened, slipping her phone back into her pocket. With a final disdainful glance, she added, "You're just a shameless woman clinging to lies and excuses. Disgusting." Without another word, Casey turned on her heel and walked away. Chapter 4 The reporters had trailed after Micah's car for a good while, hoping to intercept him, but when it became clear that their efforts were futile, they shifted their attention. Like a tidal wave, they surged toward Deidre instead. Vincent Winsley, who had also rushed out, caught sight of Deidre slumped on the ground, her hair disheveled, her expression blank. A surge of fury erupted within him. "You've disgraced me completely!" he spat, his teeth clenched in rage. Without waiting for a response, he stormed over and yanked her up forcefully. Deidre stumbled as he dragged her toward the parking lot, his movements sharp and brimming with frustration. Like a discarded, soulless rag doll, Deidre let herself be shoved into the car. Her mind was elsewhere, caught in an unending loop of Micah's cold words and Casey's venomous taunts. A replacement. The phrase clung to her, refusing to loosen its grip. Deidre's lips curled into a silent, bitter smile. Of course. It all made sense now. No wonder Micah had believed those photos, no wonder he had so readily embraced such absurd accusations. Trust? There had never been any between them. How could there be trust when all along, he had seen her as someone else? To him, she was merely a shadow, an echo of his lost love. A stand-in needed no trustโ€”only convenience. When she no longer suited his mood, he could cast her aside without hesitation, without remorse. After all, she was just a replacement. Nothing more. For two whole years, she had been ensnared in the illusion of Micah's tenderness, his feigned affection. Even until this very day, she had dared to dream of a future together, of growing old by his side. But now, the illusion was shattered. The truth lay bare, unrelenting in its cruelty. She was nothing but a substitute. And if she had paid closer attention, she might have seen it all along. The signs were there. The way Micah would often stare at her, lost in thoughtโ€”as if seeing through her, seeing someone else entirely. The pain clawed at her chest, raw and relentless. Why? Why did Micah have to do this to her? Just because she happened to resemble his first love? Did that alone condemn her to this undeserved heartbreak, this torment? "You still have the audacity to cry after committing such shameless acts!" Her father's enraged scolding pierced her thoughts. Deidre didn't even have the strength to argue anymore. Exhaustion weighed down every fiber of her being. She closed her eyes, letting the tears fall silently. But behind her closed lids, she couldn't stop the image from resurfacingโ€”Micah's cold, disdainful gaze, those eyes filled with nothing but contempt. Again and again, the memory replayed, refusing to fade. Her heart felt as though it were being torn apart, over and over, each tear exposing fresh wounds, each wound bleeding pain she couldn't contain. โ€ฆ The moment Deidre stepped into the house, pushed forward by Vincent, she stumbled through the doorway into the entryway. As soon as the door clicked shut, his palm came down hard across her face. It struck the same spot Casey had hit earlierโ€”her left cheekโ€”and the sharp sting of pain flared up once more, searing and numb all at once. Deidre's expression didn't even flicker. She had no tears left to shed; the journey home had wrung her dry. All that remained was the dull ache behind her eyes. She stood there like a wooden doll, her gaze hollow and detached, staring at Vincent without truly seeing him. "How dare you humiliate the Landon family like this? How dare you cheat on Micah!" he roared. There was no questioning, no attempt to understandโ€”just an immediate verdict of guilt, a judgment passed without trial. This was her father, Vincent. He had always been like this. The rage that had been simmering within him on the way home boiled over entirely now, erupting with full force. He raised his hand again, his voice thunderous. "I'll beat you to death today. That way, the Landon family won't come after me for this disgrace!" Deidre didn't move. She didn't even flinch. She knew better than to try. It wouldn't make a difference. Another slap landed squarely on her cheek, hard and unrelenting. The pain was distant now, buried under layers of numbness. Her expression remained as lifeless as before. "Look at you! Always that dead, useless look!" Her passive indifference only fueled Vincent's anger further, like oil thrown onto an open flame. His veins bulged at his neck, his face twisted with fury. "Fine! I'll end your life right here!" He glanced around, his eyes landing on a shoehorn resting by the entryway. He grabbed it without hesitation and swung it at her. Blow after blow rained down on her, relentless and furious. The shoehorn struck her arms, leaving bright red welts on her pale skin, each mark stark and startling against its canvas. The door opened again, and Kiera Winsley, her stepmother, appeared. She took in the scene, her voice laced with feigned concern as she exclaimed, "What's going on here? Why are you hitting Deidre?" "Stay out of it!" Vincent snapped, his grip tightening on the shoehorn. "This disgraceful wretch deserves it. end her life would be doing us all a favor." "Now, now," Kiera replied, stepping between Vincent and Deidre, her tone calm yet firm. "She's still your daughter. You can't say things like that." Her words seemed protective, but her eyes betrayed her indifference. There wasn't the faintest glimmer of worry in them. Deidre's gaze drifted to the silhouette of Kiera standing in front of her, shielding her from further blows. For the first time in what felt like forever, her empty eyes focused again. Her voice, hoarse and strained, broke the silence. "Where's Valerie?" Kiera blinked, startled by the unexpected question. She hesitated for a moment before responding, "Your sister and brother took a different car. They'll be home soon." Deidre said nothing more. Without another word, she turned and walked toward the living room. "Look at her! Look at the way she acts!" Vincent fumed behind her, his rage still simmering. Kiera stepped closer to him, her voice soothing as she tried to calm him down. But even as she murmured words of comfort, her gaze followed Deidre, scrutinizing her retreating figure with a calculating glint in her eyes. Chapter 5 After a long string of coaxing and placating, Kiera finally managed to calm Vincent's seething anger to a simmer. She tugged at his arm, steering him towards their room to change out of the formal attire they'd worn for the wedding. As they reached the stairs, Kiera glanced back and saw Deidre sitting quietly on the living room sofa. Her gaze was fixed on the front door, unblinking, her expression unreadable but for the faint furrow in her brows. Kiera hesitated, then called out, "Deidre, go change into something else, won't you?" Deidre didn't move. It was as if her ears had turned deaf to the sound of her stepmother's voice. "That girl's just like her motherโ€”a cursed woman through and through!" Vincent spat as he ascended the stairs. "What bad luck it's been to have a daughter like that!" Deidre's eyes flickered for a moment, a ripple disturbing their stillness. Her hands clenched tightly, nails digging into her palms. It wasn't long before Valerie and Johnny returned. The atmosphere in the house had barely settled when their chatter filled the space again. "What a disaster today turned out to be," Valerie muttered as she stepped inside, slipping off her shoes. She paid no attention to the figure rising slowly from the living room sofa. "I told you from the beginningโ€”this match was doomed from the start. Why force it? Marrying into wealth, what a joke..." Johnny trailed behind her, nodding absentmindedly as she spoke. But before she could take another step, she found herself face-to-face with Deidre. Startled, Valerie took a step back, her eyes scanning the figure before her. Deidre stood there in her wedding dressโ€”filthy, tattered, with her hair in disarray. The left side of her pale face was swollen. For a brief moment, Valerie froze, as though she'd seen a ghost. Then her expression twisted into irritation. "What are you doing, standing there looking like that? Trying to scare someone to death?" Deidre's voice was calm, so calm it was unnerving. "It was you, wasn't it? On your eighteenth birthday, you forced me to drink, sent me to that hotel. And the pictures on the wedding screenโ€”those were your doing too." The tone carried no inflection, just a straightforward certainty. It wasn't a question. It was a fact laid bare. Valerie faltered, her bravado wavering under Deidre's steady gaze. "Youโ€ฆ Iโ€ฆ" Her voice stumbled, and her eyes darted away, the guilt she tried to suppress bubbling to the surface. Before she could stammer out a denial, Deidre's hand moved swiftly. The slap landed on Valerie's cheek. Johnny snapped to attention, rushing forward to push Deidre away. "Don't hit my sister!" Johnny shouted, his fourteen-year-old frame trembling with indignation. The shove was forceful, and Deidre stumbled back several steps before regaining her balance. Valerie, clutching her cheek, finally processed what had happened. Her shock quickly morphed into rage. "Even Dad has never hit me! How dare you?!" she shrieked, rushing toward Deidre with hands outstretched, aiming for her face. But Deidre caught her by the wrist, her grip unyielding. Another slap followed, sharp and deliberate. Her voice, low and icy, cut through the chaos. "You deserve it." "Youโ€ฆ you hit me again?!" Valerie's voice cracked into a wail. But before she could retaliate, Deidre's hand moved for the third time, another slap echoing in the room. "Stop hitting Valerie, you useless freak!" Johnny yelled. He rushed over, intending to help his older sister. But when his eyes met Deidre's gaze, he froze. As a fourteen-year-old boy who had been pampered his whole life, he had never seen anyone with such a murderous look in their eyes. Terrified, he hesitated. "Stop it this instant!" Kiera's voice rang out as she descended the stairs, her heels clacking rapidly against the steps. Her sharp eyes took in the sceneโ€”her daughter red-faced and wailing, Deidre standing unmoved, cold as stone. "How dare you hit your sister? Have you lost your mind?" Vincent wasn't far behind, his fury reignited at the sight of his precious daughter's reddened cheeks. He stormed down the stairs, his voice shaking with anger. "Hitting your sister like this? I'll end you life myself!" Deidre watched them allโ€”the righteous fury on her father's face, the manufactured concern in her stepmother's eyes, and the unbridled hatred radiating from Valerie. Her chest tightened, the ache so deep it numbed her. Valerie broke through the cacophony with a scream, her voice shrill with rage. "Yes! I did it! I made you drunk that night and sent you to that hotel! And those photos on the screenโ€”I had those taken! You think you deserve to marry into wealth? You're nothing! A crow pretending to be a phoenixโ€”know your place!" Chapter 6 Vincent had been spewing curses at Deidre just moments ago, but upon hearing Valerie's confession, his lips pressed into a rare, tight line. He said nothing. Deidre let out a derisive laugh, her gaze shifting from Valerie to settle on her father. "You heard her, didn't you? You know now who orchestrated today's wedding fiasco. Weren't you so eager to beat me to death earlier? Why aren't you laying a hand on Valerie now?" Vincent remained still, his brows furrowing deeper as he finally spoke. "She's your sister. Watch your tone." "And when she humiliated me in front of an entire banquet hall, did she ever stop to think that I was her sister?" Deidre's voice cracked as she shouted, her anger no longer contained. "She's your daughter. Am I not your daughter, too?" "You're the older one. You should let her have her way," Vincent said, as if his words were carved in stone. "Yes, that's always your answer. Whenever there's a conflict between me and Valerie, you tell me I'm the older one, so I have to give in to her," Deidre said quietly now, her tone steeped in irony. She stood a few steps away, staring at the four people before her, her eyes cold, filled with disdain. Her mother had passed away before she was old enough to form memories. Not long after, Vincent had remarried, bringing Kiera into their home. With her came Valerie and Johnny. In the suffocating silence that followed, Deidre let out a bitter laugh. "I'm just an outsider, aren't I? You're the real family here." Her words pierced through the thin veneer of harmony that had barely held their household together. It shattered like glass. "What kind of look is that? Don't forget, I'm your father!" Vincent barked, enraged by the unmasked contempt in Deidre's eyes. "Following the passing of your mother, you ate my food, wore the clothes I bought. Did you call yourself an outsider then? Don't think earning a scholarship every year makes you someone special. If you're so capable, get out of this house right now and see how far you get without my support! Starve for all I careโ€”just don't come crawling back!" Kiera's eyes gleamed at his words, though her tone remained measured, even gentle. "Why say such harsh things? Deidre is only twenty, and she's still in university. You can't talk to a child like that." Turning to Deidre, she added with a hypocritical kindness, "Deidre, don't take your father's words to heart. Apologize and make peace." "Fine," Deidre replied curtly. Her compliance startled Kiera, who hesitated, unsure what to make of it. This girl had never shown her any respect before, and now, all of a sudden, she was so obedient? The thought didn't sit well. If Deidre were truly driven out of the house, Kiera would no longer have to keep up the facade of a benevolent stepmother. Yet, despite herself, she felt unsettled, as if she had just swallowed a fly. Vincent was equally taken aback by his daughter's uncharacteristic acquiescence. He paused, his expression softening slightly. Clearing his throat, he assumed a more commanding tone. "The matter with the photos at the weddingโ€”Valerie is still young and made a mistake. You've already hit her. Let's put it behind us. If you've done nothing to wrong the Landon family, find a time to clear things up and reschedule the wedding." Running a construction materials company, Vincent's business had been thriving, especially with the Landon family connection. A marriage alliance with the Landons would secure even greater opportunities. Naturally, he hoped Deidre would still marry into that family. The thought of returning the Landon family's generous bride price gnawed at him. That money alone had already covered the cost of raising Deidre for twenty years, and then some. It could ever cover her living costs for another forty years. The idea of losing it was unbearable. "You were engaged to Micah a year ago," he continued, his voice laced with warning. "You've been a part of the Landon family ever since. If they decide they don't want you after this mess, don't think anyone else will have you." "Reschedule the wedding?" Deidre repeated, as though the suggestion was the most absurd thing she'd ever heard. She began to laughโ€”a deep, bitter laugh that only grew louder, carrying with it a sadness so profound it filled the room. This was her father. A man so blinded by favoritism, he had lost all sense of reason. "What are you laughing at?" Vincent snapped, his brows knitting together tightly. Chapter 7 "I'd rather never get married in this lifetime than marry Micah. Never!" Deidre stopped laughing, her face freezing over, her voice sharp: "I think you've misunderstood something. When I said 'fine,' I meant I'll leave this house, and you can all go ahead and live your happy little lives." Since middle school, Deidre had been a boarding student, and the bond between her and her father, Vincent, had always been tenuous. The estrangement between them was as thin as the paper separating two worlds. In a blended family, when there are children from previous marriages, someone always ends up hurt. Vincent's fatherly love had been doled out almost entirely to his other children, Valerie and Johnny, leaving only the scraps for her. It was like charity, barely a gesture. Now, standing on the edge of her limits, she had had enough. Absolutely enough. "Fine! Fine then!" Vincent, enraged, his face contorted, pointed toward the door and bellowed, "I'll cut ties with you today! Get out! Get out of this houseโ€”now!" "Don't worry, I'm leaving." The deepest sorrow wasn't in the confrontation itself but in the stillness that followed it. Deidre had imagined this moment countless times, but now that it was happening, she felt a strange tranquilityโ€”almost a sense of release. Like her presence in this house had always been superfluous, an eyesore. She should have left long ago. Calmly, Deidre turned and went upstairs to her room to pack her things. Kiera, thrilled on the inside, masked her joy with an expression of feigned concern and helplessness. She muttered, "Don't be so upset. Why argue with a twenty-year-old? I'll go check on her." When Valerie heard Deidre's words, the sting of the slap on her face lightened. A wicked smile spread across her face, and sweetly, she said, "Dad, you still have me. I'll be a good daughter from now on." Vincent had been angry with Valerie earlier, but seeing her with that slap mark on her face, now with her pitiful, submissive expression, all the anger drained away. His tone softened as he looked at her, a far cry from the venomous words he had thrown at Deidre. He spoke gently, as a father would to a daughter he cherished, his voice full of indulgence. "Yes, having you is enough, my dear." Johnny watched Deidre walk up the stairs, his face contorted with disdain and contempt. This burden had been long overdue to leave. Upstairs, Deidre entered her room, changed out of the wedding dress, and began packing her suitcase. She heard footsteps stop at the door. Turning, she saw Kiera leaning against the doorframe, a smile plastered on her face. It was clear to Deidre that Kiera's smile was full of unmasked triumph, as if her goal had been achieved. "You don't need to stand there. Don't worry, I won't take anything valuable." Kiera chuckled lightly. "What valuable things could you even have in this room? Compared to Valerie's, yours is barely furnished. Take whatever you wantโ€”it's all just the last little bit of charity our family has given you." Deidre eyed Kiera for a moment, then silently walked past her and slammed the door shut. Kiera raised an eyebrow, unfazed by the gesture. Her mood was too good to argue with the brat now. She turned, adopting a concerned expression, and went downstairs. โ€ฆ Inside the room, Deidre slid down to the floor, leaning against the door, her eyes closed, her face etched with sorrow. From this moment on, she would be alone. She was only twenty, but why did it feel as though she had already lived an entire life? She didn't want to stay in Salve City anymore. She needed to leave, to disappear far away. But now, she had no money. Where could she go? Would she ask Vincent for money? She had to keep living, to prove to everyone who had mocked her that one day, she would slap their faces with her achievements. But what other choice did she have? How could she escape this place, this city, if not through death? Her eyes still closed, Deidre's mind scrambled through every possible future, searching for some shred of hope. Then, suddenly, a thought flashed through her mind. She opened her eyes, her gaze trembling slightly. Perhaps she still had one chance left. She stood up, found her phone, and dialed her mentor's number. After a few beeps, the call was answered, and her mentor's voice, warm with a smile, came through the receiver. "Deidre?" "It's me, Professor." Deidre's voice was hoarse. "Congratulations on your wedding today. If I hadn't been abroad for an academic exchange this week, I would have definitely come to your wedding." Deidre's throat tightened, her nose burning. Her voice cracked as she responded, "Professor, Iโ€ฆ I want to ask you something." "Go ahead." Deidre took a deep breath, summoning all the strength she had left before speaking, "Is itโ€ฆ possible for me to reclaim my study-abroad spot?" There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by her mentor's surprised voice. "Didn't you say you were planning to stay in Salve City after marriage? What's changed? Has your husband agreed to it?" The wedding had been canceled. She didn't have a husband. Deidre barely managed a smile, her lips twitching silently, before speaking as calmly as she could. "Noโ€ฆ I just think the opportunity to study abroad with a full scholarship is too rare." "Yes, it is. There are only three spots in the whole school, and you were the top choice. You know, for your fieldโ€”financeโ€”the offers from top international universities are extremely precious. This means you could stay in a foreign country and work there after graduation." Deidre opened her mouth but couldn't find the words. What was there to say? She had given up a brilliant future for a man she had believed was her one true love, only to end up as a fool, tossed aside in a fleeting illusion. "Deidre?" Her mentor's voice cut through the silence, noticing the quiet on the other end. "Professor, is there still a chance?" "Well, that's hard to say. The spot you gave up has already been filled by someone else." Deidre bit her lip, and the sharp pain in her mouth made her bite down harder, blood filling her mouth. She gripped the phone tightly, her voice laced with desperation. "Really... no chance at all?" Chapter 8 It seemed that the professor had sensed the unease in Deidre's voice. After a moment, the warm, familiar tone of her mentor returned over the phone. "There could still be a chance. Let me make a call and try to secure it for you." Deidre had always been a top student. Even though she hadn't finished high school, she had been exempted from exams and directly enrolled in the prestigious university in Salve City, completing both her undergraduate and master's degrees in one continuous stretch. Her mentor, who had always kept a close eye on such promising talent, was not one to let someone like Deidre miss out on such an opportunity. "Thank you. I'll wait for your call," Deidre said, her fingers tightening around the phone, turning pale as she bit down hard on her lower lip. Her heart pounded, the anxiety spreading like fire. She waited for an answer. Each second dragged on painfully, like she was being fried alive in a pan. She gripped her phone, staring at the screen, willing it to bring some resolution. Finally, the screen lit up. It was a call from her mentor. With a nervous breath, Deidre answered. "Good news," came the professor's voice. "A spot's available, and it's yours. Deidre, cherish this opportunity. Remember, no matter what others do, your future is yours to hold in your hands. That's the safest bet." Tears welled up in Deidre's eyes, and she started to cry, her joy so overwhelming that it spilled out of her like a river. She bit her lip, trying to control her shaking voice, and spoke each word slowly and deliberately. "Thank you... Thank you, Professor." "Alright, we'll talk later. I've got a lecture to begin." The screen darkened as the call ended, and Deidre, eyes still brimming with tears, looked out the window. Through her blurred vision, she could make out the faint blue sky, the soft white clouds. The vast expanse of the heavens stretched out before her. There was a way after all. The road had not been completely closed off. โ€ฆ Time passed swiftly. Seven years slipped by unnoticed. In Zemenia City, a bustling commercial hub neighboring Salve City, the evening descended, and the lights flickered on in their dazzling array. In the heart of this prime real estate stood the prestigious Wilton Grand Hotel, a symbol of high society, where the city's elite gathered for their business soirรฉes. Outside the hotel, a barrier of security personnel kept the press at bay, forcing the journalists to crane their necks, helplessly watching the spectacle from a distance. This particular business banquet, however, was by invitation only. Among the luxury cars parked outside, one stood out above the rest: a limited-edition car, the kind that only the ultra-wealthy could afford. Its gleaming body spun gracefully before coming to a halt right in front of the hotel, catching the attention of all those gathered. The door to the driver's side opened, and the man who emerged was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, the kind that made his figure appear long and sharp. He pushed up his rimless glasses, and his finely chiseled face caught the light, his lips curving into the faintest of smiles. His eyes shimmered behind the lenses, and the sight instantly drew gasps of admiration from the women in the crowd. "That's Micah Landon from the Landon Group in Salve City, isn't it?" "He's even more handsome and refined in person than in his photos!" Micah glanced around, his gaze cool and detached, masking a momentary flicker of impatience. A smile, barely perceptible, touched his lips as he adjusted the buttons of his suit jacket, walking swiftly around the car to open the door to the passenger side. A slender, pale hand emerged from the car, resting lightly on Micah's arm as a woman gracefully stepped out. Her custom-made gown, an extravagant piece from this season's collection, hugged her slender form. She smiled as she looked up, her face radiant with the kind of poise that made everyone around her hold their breath. The man was elegant, the woman, stunning. They were the perfect picture of grace and beauty, drawing all eyes. "Look! A limited-edition extended Luxury car! My goodness!" The crowd's attention quickly shifted from Micah and the woman beside him to the new arrival. Micah, too, turned his gaze in response to the sound. Soon, a tall, imposing figure emerged from the luxury car. As he looked closer, Micah recognized the man immediatelyโ€”Connor Halls, the young heir to the Halls family from a country called Milwarke. But just as quickly, Micah's gaze turned to one of astonishment. Standing by the car, the distinguished and handsome man offered a gentlemanly smile, bending slightly as he extended his hand. From the extended luxury car, a graceful woman emerged. Her delicate arm raised, her soft hand resting in Connor's as she descended. Her gown, a hand-crafted European design, clung to her figure, accentuating every curve, while the blue fabric highlighted her fair skin. The simple pearl necklace around her neck caught the light, and Micahโ€”being an expert in jewelry designโ€”immediately recognized it: a rare, limited-edition piece by renowned European designer Laire, a treasure impossible to acquire. But all Micah could feel was shock, as the woman's appearance completely stole his attention. How could it be her? A ripple of whispers spread through the crowd as people wondered about the identity of this poised and beautiful woman. Micah's gaze finally fixed on her face, her flawless features, the delicate oval of her face framed by perfect makeup. LEARN_MORE https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17042&ut Random Reading https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ 375 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 beokn.com VIDEO https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17042&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/t39.35426-6/474628562_861065926050348_4496125354870669628_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=qzChGxU91VcQ7kNvgFuMhsM&_nc_oc=AdiDf3mjepSbVTNN3ehWO1KgCYaGyQU8FrQp63kL5InospZPdnoQDHyqWG0sxrKgIUILPa7Aio0lQiMmaXHqHHFd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AHmPEKmaNsN1nmK0UUYQsqZ&oh=00_AYAYSreL6kuzuBalp2dQvfcGt0GkHt0qBCWTgDHuMrFCGg&oe=67CC11F3 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Random Reading 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2025-03-03 19:18 active 2792 0 ใ“ใ“ใ‚’ใ‚ฏใƒชใƒƒใ‚ฏใ—ใฆ็„กๆ–™ใงใŠ่ชญใฟใใ ใ•ใ„๏ผ ้ซ˜ๆฉ‹ๅ„ชๅญใŒๆœซๆœŸ็™Œใจ่จบๆ–ญใ•ใ‚ŒใŸใใฎๆ—ฅใ€ๅคซใฎไฝ่—คๅณปไป‹ใฏใ€ๅˆๆ‹ใฎ็›ธๆ‰‹ใฎๅญไพ›ใฎไธ–่ฉฑใ‚’ใ—ใฆใ„ใŸใ€‚ ... ็—…้™ขใงใ€ไธญๆ‘ๆ‚ ๆ–—ใŒๆธ‹ใ„้ก”ใง่จ€ใฃใŸใ€‚ใ€Œๅ„ชๅญใ•ใ‚“ใ€ๆ‰‹่ก“ใŒๆˆๅŠŸใ™ใ‚Œใฐใ€็”Ÿๅญ˜็އใฏ15%ใ‹ใ‚‰30%ใซใชใ‚‹ใ€‚ใ€ ๅ„ชๅญใฏใ‹ใฐใ‚“ใฎใฒใ‚‚ใ‚’็ดฐใ„ๆŒ‡ใงใŽใ‚…ใฃใจๆกใ‚Šใ—ใ‚ใ€้’ใ–ใ‚ใŸๅฐใ•ใช้ก”ใซๆทฑใ„้™ฐใ‚Šใ‚’ๆตฎใ‹ในใฆใ„ใŸใ€‚ ใ€Œๅ…ˆ่ผฉใ€ใ‚‚ใ—ๆ‰‹่ก“ใ‚’ๅ—ใ‘ใชใ‘ใ‚Œใฐใ€ใฉใฎใใ‚‰ใ„็”Ÿใใ‚‰ใ‚Œใ‚‹ใฎ๏ผŸใ€ ใ€ŒๅŠๅนดใ‹ใ‚‰1ๅนดใใ‚‰ใ„ใ€‚ใ€ ๅ„ชๅญใฏๅ”‡ใ‚’ใŽใ‚…ใฃใจๅ™›ใฟใ—ใ‚ใ€ใ‚„ใฃใจ่จ€่‘‰ใ‚’ๅใๅ‡บใ—ใŸใ€‚ใ€Œๅ…ˆ่ผฉใ€ใ“ใฎใ“ใจใฏ็ง˜ๅฏ†ใซใ—ใฆใกใ‚‡ใ†ใ ใ„ใ€‚ๅฎถๆ—ใ‚’ๅฟƒ้…ใ•ใ›ใŸใใชใ„ใฎใ€‚ใ€ ้ซ˜ๆฉ‹ๅฎถใฏใ™ใงใซ็ ด็”ฃใ—ใฆใŠใ‚Šใ€ๅ„ชๅญใฏ็ˆถ่ฆชใฎๅŒป็™‚่ฒปใ‚’ๅทฅ้ขใ™ใ‚‹ใ ใ‘ใงใ‚‚็ฒพไธ€ๆฏใ ใฃใŸใ€‚ ๆ‚ ๆ–—ใฏ่ซฆใ‚ใŸใ‚ˆใ†ใซ่จ€ใฃใŸใ€‚ใ€Œๅฃๅค–ใ—ใชใ„ใ‚ˆใ€‚ใงใ‚‚ใ€็ตๅฉšใ—ใฆใ„ใ‚‹ใจ่žใ„ใŸใ€‚ๆ—ฆ้‚ฃใ•ใ‚“โ€•โ€•ใ€ ใ€ŒใŠ็ˆถใ•ใ‚“ใฎใ“ใจใฏใŠ้ก˜ใ„ใญใ€‚ใ‚‚ใ†่กŒใ‹ใชใ„ใจใ€‚ใ€ๅ„ชๅญใฏๅคซใฎ่ฉฑ้กŒใ‚’้ฟใ‘ใ‚‹ใ‚ˆใ†ใซใ€ๆ—ฉใ€…ใซใใฎๅ ดใ‚’็ซ‹ใกๅŽปใฃใŸใ€‚ ็ˆถ่ฆชใฎๆฒป็™‚ใŒๅง‹ใพใฃใฆใ‹ใ‚‰ใฎ2ๅนด้–“ใ€ๅคซใงใ‚ใ‚‹ไฝ่—คๅณปไป‹ใฏไธ€ๅบฆใ‚‚ๅงฟใ‚’่ฆ‹ใ›ใŸใ“ใจใŒใชใ‹ใฃใŸใ€‚ๅฝผๅฅณใŒๅ€’ใ‚Œใฆ้€š่กŒไบบใซ็—…้™ขใธ้‹ใฐใ‚ŒใŸๆ™‚ใงใ•ใˆใ‚‚ใ ใ€‚ ใ‹ใคใฆใฏๅฝผใ‚‚ๅ„ชๅญใ‚’ๅคงๅˆ‡ใซใ—ใฆใ„ใŸใ€‚ใ ใŒใ€ๅˆๆ‹ใฎ็›ธๆ‰‹ใงใ‚ใ‚‹ๆพๆœฌ้‡Œ็พŽใŒๅฆŠๅจ ใ—ใŸ็Šถๆ…‹ใงๅธฐๅ›ฝใ—ใฆใ‹ใ‚‰ใ€ใ™ในใฆใŒๅค‰ใ‚ใฃใŸใ€‚ ๅ„ชๅญใ‚‚ใ‹ใคใฆๅฆŠๅจ ใ—ใฆใ„ใŸใ“ใจใŒใ‚ใฃใŸใ€‚ใ‚ใ‚‹ๆ—ฅใ€ๆน–ใงๆพๆœฌ้‡Œ็พŽใจใจใ‚‚ใซ่ฝๆฐดใ—ใŸๆ™‚ใ€ๅฟ…ๆญปใซใ‚‚ใŒใใชใŒใ‚‰ใ€ๅฝผใŒ้‡Œ็พŽใซๅ‘ใ‹ใฃใฆๆณณใ„ใงใ„ใๅงฟใ‚’่ฆ‹ใŸใ€‚ ๅพŒใ€้‡Œ็พŽใฏ็„กไบ‹ใซๅญใฉใ‚‚ใ‚’็”ฃใ‚“ใ ใ€‚ใงใ‚‚ๅ„ชๅญใฏๆฏ่ฆชใซใชใ‚‹ๆฉŸไผšใ‚’ๅฅชใ‚ใ‚ŒใŸใ€‚ 7ๆ—ฅๅพŒใ€ๅณปไป‹ใฏ้›ขๅฉšใ‚’ๆฑ‚ใ‚ใŸใŒใ€ๅฝผๅฅณใฏๆ‹’ๅฆใ—ใŸใ€‚ ใ ใŒใ€็—…ๆฐ—ใฎใ“ใจใ‚’็ŸฅใฃใŸไปŠใ€ๅฝผๅฅณใฏ้œ‡ใˆใ‚‹ๆ‰‹ใงๅฝผใฎ้›ป่ฉฑใ‚’ใ‹ใ‘ใŸใ€‚ 3ๅ›ž็›ฎใฎใ‚ณใƒผใƒซใงใคใชใŒใ‚‹ใจใ€ๅฝผใฎๅ†ทใŸใ„ๅฃฐใŒ่žใ“ใˆใฆใใŸใ€‚ใ€Œ้›ขๅฉšไปฅๅค–ใฎ็”จไปถใชใ‚‰ใ€ใŠๅ‰ใซไผšใ†ๆฐ—ใฏใชใ„ใ€‚ใ€ ๅ„ชๅญใฏๆถ™ใ‚’ใ“ใ‚‰ใˆใ€็™Œใฎ่ฉฑใ‚’ๅˆ‡ใ‚Šๅ‡บใ™ใ“ใจใŒใงใใชใ‹ใฃใŸใ€‚ใ™ใ‚‹ใจ้›ป่ฉฑใฎๅ‘ใ“ใ†ใ‹ใ‚‰้‡Œ็พŽใฎๅฃฐใŒ่žใ“ใˆใฆใใŸใ€‚ใ€Œๅณปไป‹ๅ›ใ€ใใ‚ใใ‚่ตคใกใ‚ƒใ‚“ใฎๅฎšๆœŸๆคœๆŸปใ‚ˆใ€‚ใ€ ใใฎ็žฌ้–“ใ€ใ“ใ‚‰ใˆใฆใ„ใŸๆถ™ใŒไธ€ๆฐ—ใซๆบขใ‚Œๅ‡บใ—ใŸใ€‚ใ™ในใฆใ‚’็ต‚ใ‚ใ‚‰ใ›ใ‚‹ๆ™‚ใŒๆฅใŸใฎใ ใ€‚ ๅ„ชๅญใฏใ“้œ‡ใˆใ‚‹ๅฃฐใงใ€็ตžใ‚Šๅ‡บใ™ใ‚ˆใ†ใซใฝใคใ‚Šใจๅ‘Ÿใ„ใŸใ€‚ใ€Œๅณปไป‹โ€ฆโ€ฆใ‚‚ใ†ใ€้›ขๅฉšใ—ใ‚ˆใ†ใ€‚ใ€ ๅณปไป‹ใฏไธ€็žฌใ€้ฉšใ„ใŸใ‚ˆใ†ใ ใฃใŸใŒใ€ๅ†ท็ฌ‘ใ—ใฆ่จ€ใฃใŸใ€‚ใ€Œๅ„ชๅญใ€ไปŠๅบฆใฏใฉใ‚“ใชๆ‰‹ใ‚’ไฝฟใ†ใคใ‚‚ใ‚Šใ ๏ผŸใ€ ใ€Œๅฎถใงๅพ…ใฃใฆใ‚‹ใ‹ใ‚‰ใ€‚ใ€ ๅณปไป‹ใฏใ€้›ป่ฉฑใŒ็ช็„ถๅˆ‡ใ‚‰ใ‚ŒใŸๅพŒใ€ๅ‘†็„ถใจใ‚นใƒžใƒ›ใ‚’่ฆ‹ใคใ‚ใฆใ„ใŸใ€‚ ไธ€ๅนด้–“ๆ‹’ๅฆใ—็ถšใ‘ใฆใใŸๅ„ชๅญใŒใ€ใชใœไปŠๆ€ฅใซๅŒๆ„ใ—ใŸใฎใ ใ‚ใ†๏ผŸ ๅฝผๅฅณใซไผšใ„ใซ่กŒใใ“ใจใ‚’ๆฑบใ‚ใŸใ€‚ ใ€Œๅณปไป‹ใ€ใฉใ“ใซ่กŒใใฎใ‚ˆ๏ผŸใ€้‡Œ็พŽใŒๅญใฉใ‚‚ใ‚’ๆŠฑใˆใชใŒใ‚‰่ฟฝใ„ใ‹ใ‘ใฆใใŸใ€‚ ใ—ใ‹ใ—ใ€ๅฝผใฏไฝ•ใ‚‚่จ€ใ‚ใš็ซ‹ใกๅŽปใฃใŸใ€‚ใใฎ็žฌ้–“ใ€้‡Œ็พŽใฎๅ„ชใ—ใ„่กจๆƒ…ใฏใฟใ‚‹ใฟใ‚‹ใ†ใกใซๆใ‚ใ—ใ„ใปใฉๆš—ใใชใฃใŸใ€‚ ใ‚ใฎๅฅณโ€ฆโ€ฆใพใŸไฝ•ใ‹ไป•ๆŽ›ใ‘ใฆใใŸใ‚ใญ๏ผ ็Ž„้–ขใฎใƒ‰ใ‚ขใŒ้–‹ใ„ใŸใจใใ€ๅ„ชๅญใฏใƒ†ใƒผใƒ–ใƒซใฎใใฐใซ็ซ‹ใฃใฆใ„ใ‚‹ใ‚นใƒผใƒ„ใ‚’็€ใŸ่ƒŒใŒ้ซ˜ใ„็”ทๆ€งใ‚’่ฆ‹ใŸใ€‚ๆ•ดใฃใŸ้ก”็ซ‹ใกใฏๆฐทใฎใ‚ˆใ†ใซๅ†ทใŸใใ€ใใฎๆš—ใ„็žณใซใฏๅ„ชๅญใธใฎ่ปฝ่”‘ใŒๆตฎใ‹ใ‚“ใงใ„ใŸใ€‚ ใ€Œใฉใ“ใซ่กŒใฃใฆใŸใ‚“ใ ๏ผŸใ€ๅณปไป‹ใŒๅ†ทใŸใๅฐ‹ใญใŸใ€‚ ใ€Œใใ‚“ใชใ“ใจใฏใ„ใคใ‹ใ‚‰ๆฐ—ใซใ™ใ‚‹ใฎ๏ผŸใ€ ใ€Œ้›ขๅฉšๅฑŠใซใ‚ตใ‚คใƒณใ—ใฆใ‚‚ใ‚‰ใ†ๅฟ…่ฆใŒใ‚ใ‚‹ใ€‚ใ€ ใใฎ่จ€่‘‰ใฏ้‹ญใ„้‡ใฎใ‚ˆใ†ใซๅฝผๅฅณใฎๅฟƒใ‚’ๅˆบใ—ใŸใ€‚ๆฟกใ‚ŒใŸไฝ“ใ‚’ๅผ•ใใšใ‚ŠใชใŒใ‚‰ใ€ๅฝผๅฅณใฏใ‚ซใƒใƒณใ‹ใ‚‰ๆ›ธ้กžใ‚’้™ใ‹ใซๅ–ใ‚Šๅ‡บใ—ใŸใ€‚ ใ€Œๅฟƒ้…ใ™ใ‚‹ๅฟ…่ฆใŒใชใ„ใ€‚ใ‚‚ใ†ใ‚ตใ‚คใƒณๆธˆใฟใ ใ€‚ใ€ ๅฝผๅฅณใŒๆ›ธ้กžใ‚’ใƒ†ใƒผใƒ–ใƒซใฎไธŠใซ็ฝฎใ„ใŸใจใใ€ๅณปไป‹ใฏใ€Œ้›ขๅฉšใ€ใจใ„ใ†ไบŒๆ–‡ๅญ—ใŒใ“ใ‚Œใปใฉใพใงใซไธๆ„‰ๅฟซใซๆ€ใˆใŸใ“ใจใฏใชใ‹ใฃใŸใ€‚ๅ„ชๅญใŒๅ”ฏไธ€่ฆๆฑ‚ใ—ใŸใฎใฏใ€2ๅ„„ๅ††ใฎๆ…ฐ่ฌๆ–™ใ ใฃใŸใ€‚ ใ€Œใฉใ†ใ—ใฆๆ€ฅใซๅŒๆ„ใ—ใŸใฎใ‹ใจๆ€ใฃใŸใ‚‰ใ€็ตๅฑ€้‡‘ใฎใŸใ‚ใ‹ใ€‚ใ€ๅฝผใฎ้ก”ใŒๅ˜ฒ็ฌ‘ใ‚’ๆตฎใ‹ในใŸใ€‚ ใ‹ใคใฆใชใ‚‰ใ€่‡ชๅˆ†ใ‚’ๅผ่ญทใ™ใ‚‹ใ‹ใ‚‚ใ—ใ‚Œใชใ„ใ€‚ใงใ‚‚ใ€ไปŠๅฝผๅฅณใฏใŸใ ้™ใ‹ใซ่จ€ใฃใŸใ€‚ใ€Œๆœฌๆฅใชใ‚‰ใ€ไฝ่—คใ•ใ‚“ใฎ่ณ‡็”ฃใฎๅŠๅˆ†ใ‚’่ซ‹ๆฑ‚ใ™ใ‚‹ๆจฉๅˆฉใŒใ‚ใ‚‹ใ‚ใ€‚ใงใ‚‚ใ€็งใฏ2ๅ„„ๅ††ใ—ใ‹่ฆๆฑ‚ใ—ใชใ‹ใฃใŸใ€‚ใ“ใ‚Œใงใ‚‚ใ€ใพใ ๆƒ…ใ‘ใ‚’ใ‹ใ‘ใฆใ‚‹ใคใ‚‚ใ‚Šใ‚ˆใ€‚ใ€ ๅณปไป‹ใฏไธ€ๆญฉๅ‰ใซ้€ฒใฟใ€้•ทใ„ๅฝฑใŒๅ„ชๅญใ‚’่ฆ†ใฃใŸใ€‚ๅฝผใฏๅฝผๅฅณใฎ้กŽใ‚’็ดฐ้•ทใ„ๆŒ‡ใงๆŽดใฟใ€ๅ†ทใŸใ„ๅฃฐใง่จ€ใฃใŸใ€‚ใ€ŒไปŠใ€ไฝ•ใฆๅ‘ผใ‚“ใ ๏ผŸใ€ ใ€Œไฝ่—คใ•ใ‚“ใ€ใ‚‚ใ—ใ“ใฎๅ‘ผใณๆ–นใŒๅซŒใชใ‚‰ใ€ๅ…ƒๅคซใจๅ‘ผใณ็›ดใ—ใฆใ‚‚ใ„ใ„ใ‚ใ‚ˆใ€‚ใ•ใ‚ใ€ๆ›ธ้กžใซใ‚ตใ‚คใƒณใ—ใฆๅธฐใฃใฆใ‚‚ใ‚‰ใฃใฆใ„ใ„๏ผŸใ€ ๅฝผใฏไธๆ„‰ๅฟซใใ†ใช้ก”ใ‚’ใ—ใŸใ€‚ใ€Œใ“ใ“ใฏไฟบใฎๅฎถใ ใ€‚ๅ‡บใฆ่กŒใ‘ใจ่จ€ใ†ๆจฉๅˆฉใฏใŠๅ‰ใซใฏใ‚ใ‚‹ใ‹ใ„ใ€‚ใ€ ๅ„ชๅญใฏ็šฎ่‚‰ใ’ใซๅพฎ็ฌ‘ใฟใ€่จ€ใฃใŸใ€‚ใ€Œ็ขบใ‹ใซใ€ใใฎๆจฉๅˆฉใฏใชใ„ใ‚ใ€‚ใงใ‚‚ใ€ๅฎ‰ๅฟƒใ—ใฆใ€ไฝ่—คใ•ใ‚“ใ€‚้›ขๅฉš่จผๆ˜Žๆ›ธใ‚’ๅ—ใ‘ๅ–ใฃใŸใ‚‰ใ€ใ™ใใซๅ‡บใฆ่กŒใใ€‚ใ€ ใพใŸใ€ๅฝผใฎๆ‰‹ใ‚’ๆŒฏใ‚Šๆ‰•ใ„ใ€ๅ†ทใŸใ„็›ฎใงๅฝผใ‚’่ฆ‹ใคใ‚ใŸใ€‚ใ€Œๆ˜Žๆ—ฅใฎๆœ9ๆ™‚ใ€ๅธ‚ๅฝนๆ‰€ใงๆ›ธ้กžใ‚’ๆŒใฃใฆใใฆใใ ใ•ใ„ใ€‚ใ€ ็ฟŒๆœใ€ๆ—ฅใฎๅ‡บๅ‰ใซใฏๅ„ชๅญใฏๅ‡บ็™บใ—ใ‚ˆใ†ใจใ—ใŸๆ™‚ใ€็—…้™ขใ‹ใ‚‰้›ป่ฉฑใŒใ‹ใ‹ใฃใฆใใŸใ€‚ใ€Œ้ซ˜ๆฉ‹ใ•ใ‚“ใ€ใŠ็ˆถใ•ใ‚“ใŒๅฟƒ่‡“็™บไฝœใ‚’่ตทใ“ใ—ใพใ—ใŸใ€‚ใ€ ใ€Œใˆใฃ๏ผŸใ™ใๅ‘ใ‹ใ„ใพใ™๏ผใ€ ็—…้™ขใซๅˆฐ็€ใ™ใ‚‹ใจใ€ๆ‰‹่ก“ใฏใพใ ็ถšใ„ใฆใ„ใŸใ€‚ ไปŠใ€ๅ”ฏไธ€ใฎๅธŒๆœ›ใฏ็ˆถใŒๅฅๅบทใง็”Ÿใ็ถšใ‘ใ‚‹ใ“ใจใ ใ‘ใ ใฃใŸใ€‚ ็œ‹่ญทๅธซใŒๆ‰‹่ก“่ฒป็”จใฎ่ซ‹ๆฑ‚ๆ›ธใ‚’ๆ‰‹ๆธกใ—ใฆใใŸใ€‚็ท้กใฏ300ไธ‡ๅ††ไปฅไธŠใ€‚ ใงใ‚‚ใ€ไปฅๅ‰ๆ”ฏๆ‰•ใฃใŸๅ…ฅ้™ข่ฒปใงๆฎ‹้‡‘ใฏใŸใฃใŸใฎ10ไธ‡ๅ††ใ€‚ใฉใ†ใ—ใฆใ‚‚่ถณใ‚Šใชใ‹ใฃใŸใ€‚ ไป•ๆ–นใชใใ€ๅณปไป‹ใซ้›ป่ฉฑใ‚’ใ‹ใ‘ใŸใ€‚ ๅ†ทใŸใ„ๅฃฐใŒ่žใ“ใˆใ‚‹ใ€‚ใ€Œใฉใ“ใ ๏ผŸใ‚‚ใ†30ๅˆ†ๅพ…ใฃใฆใ„ใ‚‹ใ€‚ใ€ ใ€Œๆ€ฅใชใ“ใจใŒใ‚ใฃใฆโ€•โ€•ใ€ ใ€Œๅ„ชๅญใ€ใ“ใ‚ŒใงใŠใ‚‚ใ—ใ‚ใ„๏ผŸใ€ๅณปไป‹ใŒ้ผปใง็ฌ‘ใ†ใ€‚ใ€Œใฉใ†ใ›ใพใŸๅ˜˜ใ‚’ใคใ„ใฆใ„ใ‚‹ใ‚“ใ ใ‚ใ†๏ผŸใ€ ใใ‚“ใช๏ผ ใ€Œๅ˜˜ใ˜ใ‚ƒใชใ„๏ผ็ˆถใŒๅฟƒ่‡“็™บไฝœใ‚’่ตทใ“ใ—ใฆๆ‰‹่ก“ใŒๅฟ…่ฆใชใฎ๏ผโ€•โ€•ใ€ ใ€Œใใ‚Œใงใ€ๆญปใ‚“ใ ใฎใ‹๏ผŸใ€ๅณปไป‹ใŒ้ฎใฃใŸใ€‚ ใใฎ่จ€่‘‰ใซใ€ๅ„ชๅญใฏ่€ณใ‚’็–‘ใฃใŸใ€‚ใใ‚“ใช่จ€ใ„ๆ–นใ™ใ‚‹ไบบใŒใ„ใ‚‹ใฎใ‹๏ผŸ ใ€Œใ„ใ„ใˆ๏ผๅณปไป‹ใ€ๆ‰‹่ก“่ฒปใŒ300ไธ‡ๅ††ไปฅไธŠใ‹ใ‹ใ‚‹ใฎใ€‚ใ ใ‹ใ‚‰ๆ…ฐ่ฌๆ–™ใ‚’ๅ…ˆใซๆŒฏใ‚Š่พผใ‚“ใงใใ‚Œใชใ„๏ผŸๅฟ…ใš้›ขๅฉšใ™ใ‚‹ใ‹ใ‚‰๏ผใ€ ใ€Œๅ„ชๅญใ€ไฟบใŒ่ชฐใ‚ˆใ‚Šใ‚‚ๅ›ใฎ็ˆถ่ฆชใฎๆญปใ‚’ๆœ›ใ‚“ใงใ„ใ‚‹ใ“ใจใ‚’็†่งฃใ—ใฆใ„ใ‚‹ใ‚ˆใชใ€‚้‡‘ใ‚’ๆธกใ™ใฎใฏใ„ใ„ใ ใ‚ใ†ใ€ใงใ‚‚ๆ‰‹็ถšใใŒ็ต‚ใ‚ใฃใŸๅพŒใซใ ใ€‚ใ€ ใใ‚Œใ ใ‘่จ€ใ†ใจใ€้›ป่ฉฑใฏๅˆ‡ใ‚‰ใ‚ŒใŸใ€‚ ๅ„ชๅญใฎ้ก”ใซใฏๅ›ฐๆƒ‘ใŒๆตฎใ‹ใ‚“ใงใ„ใŸใ€‚ใ‹ใคใฆๅฝผใฏ็ˆถใซๅฏพใ—ใฆๆ•ฌๆ„ใ‚’ๆ‰•ใฃใฆใ„ใŸใฏใšใ ใฃใŸใ€‚ใ—ใ‹ใ—ใ€ไปŠใฎๅฝผใฎๅฃฐใซใฏๆœฌๆฐ—ใฎๆ†Žใ—ใฟใŒๆปฒใ‚“ใงใ„ใŸใ€‚ ใชใœใ ๏ผŸ 2ๅนดๅ‰ใฎ้ซ˜ๆฉ‹ๅฎถใฎ็ ด็”ฃใจ็ตใณใคใ‘ใฆ่€ƒใˆใ‚‹ใจใ€ๅถ็„ถใฎๅ‡บๆฅไบ‹ใจใฏๆ€ใˆใชใใชใฃใฆใใŸใ€‚ ใ‚‚ใ†ใ—ใ‹ใ—ใฆใ€ๅณปไป‹ใŒ่ฃใงไฝ•ใ‹ใ‚’ไป•ๆŽ›ใ‘ใŸใฎใ ใ€‚ใ—ใ‹ใ—ใ€ๅฎŸๅฎถใฏไธ€ไฝ“ใฉใ†ใ‚„ใฃใฆๅฝผใ‚’ๆ€’ใ‚‰ใ›ใฆใ—ใพใฃใŸใฎใ ใ‚ใ†๏ผŸ ไปŠใ€่€ƒใˆ่พผใ‚€ไฝ™่ฃ•ใ‚‚ใชใใ€็ˆถใฎๆฒป็™‚่ฒปใ‚’ไฝ•ใจใ‹ใ™ใ‚‹ใฎใŒๆœ€ๅ„ชๅ…ˆใ ใฃใŸใ€‚ ๆ‰‹่ก“ๅฎคใฎๆ‰‰ใŒ้–‹ใ„ใŸใ€‚ใ€Œๅ…ˆ็”Ÿ๏ผŸใ€ ใ€Œ้ซ™ๆฉ‹ใ•ใ‚“ใ€ใŠ็ˆถๆง˜ใฏใชใ‚“ใจใ‹ๆŒใกใ“ใŸใˆใพใ—ใŸใ€‚ใ€ ๅ„ชๅญใฏใ‚ˆใ†ใ‚„ใ่ƒธใ‚’ๆ’ซใงไธ‹ใ‚ใ—ใŸใ€‚ ไป‹่ญทไบบใซ็ˆถใ‚’ไปปใ›ใ€ๅธ‚ๅฝนๆ‰€ใซๆ€ฅใ„ใ ใŒใ€ๅณปไป‹ใฏใฉใ“ใซใ‚‚ใชใ‹ใฃใŸใ€‚ ็„ฆใฆ้›ป่ฉฑใ‚’ใ‹ใ‘ใ‚‹ใ€‚ใ€Œๅธ‚ๅฝนๆ‰€ใซ็€ใ„ใŸใ‚ใ€‚ใฉใ“ใซใ„ใ‚‹ใฎ๏ผŸใ€ ใ€Œไบ‹ๅ‹™ๅฎคใ ใ€‚ใ€ ใ€ŒไปŠใ™ใ้›ขๅฉšๆ‰‹็ถšใใ‚’ๆธˆใพใ›ใซๆฅใฆใใ‚Œใชใ„๏ผŸใ€ ๅณปไป‹ใฏ่–„ใ็ฌ‘ใฃใฆ่จ€ใฃใŸใ€‚ใ€Œๆ•ฐๅ„„ๅ††ใฎๅฅ‘็ด„ใจใŠๅ‰ใ€ใฉใฃใกใŒๅคงไบ‹ใ ใจๆ€ใ†๏ผŸใ€ ใ€Œ็ต‚ใ‚ใ‚‹ใพใงๅพ…ใคใ‹ใ‚‰โ€ฆโ€ฆๅณปไป‹ใ€ใŠ้ก˜ใ„ใ€ไปŠ็ˆถใฏใŠ้‡‘ใŒๅฟ…่ฆใชใฎใ€‚ใ€ ใ€Œใ‚‚ใ—ๆญปใ‚“ใ ใ‚‰ใ€่‘ฌๅผไปฃใ‚’ๅ‡บใ—ใฆใ‚„ใ‚‹ใ‚ˆใ€‚ใ€ใใ‚Œใ ใ‘่จ€ใ†ใจใ€ๅฝผใฏ้›ป่ฉฑใ‚’ๅˆ‡ใฃใŸใ€‚ ๅ†ใณ้›ป่ฉฑใ‚’ใ‹ใ‘ใŸใŒใ€ใ™ใงใซ้›ปๆบใŒๅˆ‡ใ‚‰ใ‚ŒใŸใ€‚ ๅ„ชๅญใฏๆฏใŒ่ฉฐใพใ‚‹ใ‚ˆใ†ใชๆ„Ÿ่ฆšใซ่ฅฒใ‚ใ‚ŒใŸใ€‚ ๅฝผๅฅณใฏใ‚ใฃใจใ„ใ†้–“ใซๅ…จใฆใ‚’ๅคฑใฃใฆใ—ใพใฃใŸใ€‚ ไปŠใ€ๅ„ชๅญใŒๆŒใฃใฆใ„ใ‚‹ๅ”ฏไธ€ใฎไพกๅ€คใ‚ใ‚‹ใ‚‚ใฎใฏใ€็ตๅฉšๆŒ‡่ผชใ ใ‘ใ ใฃใŸใ€‚ ๅฝผๅฅณใฏๆŒ‡่ผชใ‚’ๅค–ใ—ใ€้ซ˜็ดšๅฎ้ฃพๅบ—ใซ่ถณใ‚’่ธใฟๅ…ฅใ‚ŒใŸใ€‚ ใ€ŒใŠๅฎขๆง˜ใ€่ณผๅ…ฅๆ™‚ใฎ้ ˜ๅŽๆ›ธใจ่จผๆ˜Žๆ›ธใฏใŠๆŒใกใงใ™ใ‹๏ผŸใ€ ใ€Œใฏใ„ใ€‚ใ€ๅ„ชๅญใฏๆ€ฅใ„ใงๆ›ธ้กžใ‚’ๅทฎใ—ๅ‡บใ—ใŸใ€‚ ใ€Œใ‚ใ‚ŠใŒใจใ†ใ”ใ–ใ„ใพใ™ใ€‚ๆŒ‡่ผชใฏๆคœๆŸปใซๅ‡บใ™ๅฟ…่ฆใŒใ‚ใ‚‹ใฎใงใ€ๆ˜Žๆ—ฅใพใŸใ”้€ฃ็ตกใ•ใ›ใฆใ„ใŸใ ใ‘ใพใ™ใ‹ใ€‚ใ€ ๅ„ชๅญใฏๅˆ‡่ฟซใ—ใŸๅฃฐใง่จ€ใฃใŸใ€‚ใ€Œๆ€ฅใ„ใงใ„ใ‚‹ใ‚“ใงใ™ใ€‚ไปŠๆ—ฅไธญใซใŠ้ก˜ใ„ใ—ใพใ™ใ€‚ใ€ ใ€Œใฏใ„ใ€‚ใ€ๅบ—ๅ“กใŒๆŒ‡่ผชใ‚’ๆŒใกๅŽปใ‚ใ†ใจใ—ใŸใใฎๆ™‚ใ€ใ‚ใ‚‹็™ฝใใฆ็นŠ็ดฐใชๆ‰‹ใŒๆŒ‡่ผชใ‚ฑใƒผใ‚นใ‚’ๆŠผใ•ใˆใŸใ€‚ ใ€Œใ“ใฎๆŒ‡่ผชใ€ใจใฆใ‚‚็ด ๆ•ตใญใ€‚็งใŒ่ฒทใ†ใ‚ใ€‚ใ€ ้ก”ใ‚’ไธŠใ’ใŸๅ„ชๅญใฎ็›ฎใซ้ฃ›ใณ่พผใ‚“ใงใใŸใฎใฏใ€ๅฝผๅฅณใŒใ“ใฎไธ–ใงๆœ€ใ‚‚ๆ†Žใ‚“ใงใ„ใ‚‹ไบบ็‰ฉโ€•โ€•ๆพๆœฌ้‡Œ็พŽใ ใฃใŸ LEARN_MORE https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&ut ๅฅณใฎๅญใŒ่ชญใฟใŸใ„ๅฐ่ชฌใ‚’ๅคง็‰น้›† https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/ 147 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 heplk.com IMAGE https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&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/t39.35426-6/480406227_1476624079964965_3348405624945206789_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=rjt-3pPVLFAQ7kNvgEWxapp&_nc_oc=AdhVqvgnAmWRVj8WoLK2nLnmI0N_XBemkmGXYuu0EAfW49Jy-oolq03lAcv6Ooy1muQQbwozmGrRMPUMc42raLtX&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ASRDCwNmXG4xlu1vXvM-d9z&oh=00_AYB83cHOjuWqjhgz6hdvBk35n0kyAJMEMTjZl8eQSftSDw&oe=67CC0EA6 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 ๅฅณใฎๅญใŒ่ชญใฟใŸใ„ๅฐ่ชฌใ‚’ๅคง็‰น้›† 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2025-03-03 19:10 active 2791 0 ๐Ÿ”ฅNEW POPULAR READ๐Ÿ”ฅ โ€œI want a divorce.โ€ I said, but there was no response. โ€œI said I want a divorce.โ€ I repeated louder this time, clenching my fists at my sides. Alpha Dante finally looked up from his desk, staring at me like I had come to throw another tantrum. โ€œYou are tired. Go and have a nap or something,โ€ he said dismissively. I bit down on my lips and, in annoyance, slammed the divorce papers I had secretly gathered on his desk. โ€œWhat is this?โ€ he muttered in irritation, flipping through the papers. โ€œThese are the divorce papers. I have my signature already on them. All thatโ€™s left is your signature.โ€ His brow furrowed, and his jaw clenched. Then suddenly, he tore the papers into shreds, causing me to gasp. โ€œWhatโ€ฆ what do you think you are doing? I spent months gathering thatโ€ฆ why would youโ€ฆโ€ โ€œI will not divorce!โ€ His voice thundered, causing me to flinch. He tossed the shredded papers across the room. โ€œYou are my wife. The Luna of the Moonshade Pack. How dare you ask for a divorce?โ€ โ€œWhat more do you want? Youโ€™ve caused me nothing but pain for the past three years,โ€ I found myself yelling in anger. โ€œYouโ€™ve had your revenge. My father's dead and you took over his pack. What more do you want? Why wonโ€™t you let me go? Whyโ€ฆโ€ โ€œItโ€™s not enough!โ€ he cut me off. โ€œYour pain is not enough! You cannot be happy while I am unhappy! You will remain unhappy by my side forever,โ€ he said, now standing, his voice filled with nothing but disdain. I let out a shaky breath. Who was he? This wasnโ€™t the man I had fallen in love with. This wasnโ€™t the man who held me close on cold nights, who whispered sweet nothings in my ear, who promised to protect me from all harm. No, this was a strangerโ€”a monster wrapped in the same familiar body. I shook my head in disbelief, my heart pounding in my chest. How had we come to this? โ€œI, Amaya Blackwoodโ€ฆโ€ โ€œDonโ€™t you dare, Amaya!โ€ he said, taking steps forward while I took more back. โ€œโ€ฆof the Moonshade pack reject youโ€ฆโ€ โ€œAmaya!โ€ he yelled, closing the distance as I slammed my back against a wall. His hand gripped my jaw, his red eyes glowing as he stared at me while I glared back at him. โ€œDivorce me, Dante,โ€ I muttered, breathing heavily, but his grip only tightened around my jaw, so tight that it felt like he could actually crush it any moment. โ€œPleaseโ€ฆ let me go.โ€ โ€œNever!โ€ he growled. โ€œI will never let you go, Amaya. Even if you hate me.โ€ We continued staring at each other, panting heavily, until I looked away. Only then did his grip loosen, and he took a step back. โ€œNow return to your room, and donโ€™t you ever think about something as absurd as divorce again, because itโ€™s never going to happen.โ€ I paused by the door, my grip tightening around the doorknob, but I said nothing. As I was returning to my room, I was so lost in thought that I bumped into someone by the stairs. โ€œOh, sorry,โ€ I muttered, and when I looked up, I saw that the man I bumped into was Cyrus, the son of my fatherโ€™s Beta, Vaughn. His father was part of the revolution that had overthrown my father. Unfortunately, before my father was caught, Vaughn was shot in the heart by my father. He did not survive. โ€œWatch where you are going,โ€ he sneered. I lowered my head and continued walking, but then he added, โ€œThe Alpha received a marriage proposal.โ€ I froze, gripping the hem of my dress. He continued, โ€œSheโ€™s an amazing woman. One of our best warriors. The people love her and approve of them as a couple. Do you know what this means?โ€ He turned to me with a smug look, expecting a disapproving response. Instead, I smiled warmly. โ€œAh yes, they do seem like a perfect match. I already asked Dante for a divorce, but he refused. You are his close friend. I am sure you would be able to convince him to take the proposal seriously.โ€ His smug look faltered, and he looked at me confused. โ€œYou are giving up so easily?โ€ he said, and now I was the one who was confused. โ€œWhat else can I do? Heโ€™s made it clear that I have no say in my own life. If this marriage proposal is whatโ€™s best for the pack, who am I to stand in the way?โ€ He frowned, and when he didnโ€™t say anything else, I turned away. When I got to my room, I closed the door behind me and let out a shaky breath as I recalled Cyrusโ€™s words. The pack adored their new Alpha. After all, he had saved them from misfortune. Kara was also everything I wasnโ€™tโ€”strong, beloved, and loyal to the pack. She had fought alongside Dante for the freedom of the pack. It was only natural for them to be together. They were a perfect match, and I was sure the people would pressure Dante to accept. But what did that mean for me? Would I be finally free? No, that wasnโ€™t possible. I was the last remaining royal bloodline of the Moonshade pack. The people hated me. They wanted me gone, and Dante would never let me go. Even if he moved on, he would keep me as a prisoner. I sighed and walked over to the window. My eyes widened for a brief moment when I saw Dante and Kara walking side by side. They were talking about something, and he was smiling. But then it all vanished as he shifted his gaze and his eyes met mine. A shiver ran down my spine, but I couldnโ€™t look away. So we just stared at each other until Kara tugged at his sleeve, urging him to focus on her. He glanced back at her with the same warm smile, and they both walked away. โ€œShould I jump?โ€ was the first thought that came to my head as soon as they were out of sight. I could run as far as my legs could carry me. But where would I go? Who was I kidding? Dante had allies everywhere while I had no one. My parents were gone, their loyal followers were either scattered or dead. I was alone. Chapter 2 I woke up the next morning with a very high fever, but I still managed to get out of bed. Outside my bedroom window, I could hear chants from protesters who wanted me gone from the pack. This had become a routine; they did it every morning until they were chased away by the guards. I got dressed and headed downstairs to join Dante for breakfast. Although I didnโ€™t want to, he had insisted, not giving me much of a choice. So, against my will, I had to see him every morning before he left the packhouse. Today was different, though. Kara was sitting at the breakfast table, smiling as she poured Dante a cup of coffee. โ€œGood morning, Amaya,โ€ she said, as if she wasnโ€™t sitting in my house, at my table, sharing coffee with my husband while I sat at the far end, away from both of them. โ€œGood morning,โ€ I muttered, keeping my eyes down. Dante, on the other hand, didnโ€™t look up. He was busy reading something on his tablet. โ€œAmaya, you look pale,โ€ she added just as I was about to take a bite of my sausage. โ€œAre you not feeling well?โ€ I looked at her, caught off guard. There was no way she would care. That was confirmed when I saw pity in her eyes, and my walls went back up. As if on cue, Dante looked up from his tablet, his gaze meeting mine, waiting for my response. โ€œIโ€ฆIโ€™m fine,โ€ I muttered. โ€œIf youโ€™re fine, stop sulking,โ€ Dante said coldly. โ€œDante,โ€ Kara scolded. โ€œWhy are you being harsh? She doesnโ€™t look well.โ€ โ€œSheโ€™s the daughter of a powerful Alpha. Iโ€™m sure her wolf will heal her,โ€ he said. And he would be right, except I had lost contact with my wolf as a result of the trauma. It was like she just vanished. Perhaps that was another reason I couldnโ€™t feel the mate bond, and that was why his words hurt less. โ€œButโ€ฆโ€ Kara tried to insist, but he cut her off. โ€œFineโ€ฆI will get the pack healer.โ€ โ€œNo, itโ€™s not necessary. Itโ€™s just a fever.โ€ I tried taking a bite of the sausage, but the smell made me nauseous, and I put it back down. โ€œExcuse me,โ€ I said, standing up. โ€œWhere are you going?โ€ Dante asked. โ€œIโ€™m not hungry,โ€ I replied. Not waiting for his response, I turned and walked out of the dining room. In the corner, I could see some maids giggling as I walked by. I knew it was about me, but I could do nothing but continue walking. Later that evening, Dante informed me I would be joining him for a party. My dress had already been picked out, and all I had to do was be there, in his words. It was difficult walking in heels. I had mentioned this in the past, but I guess he had forgottenโ€”or perhaps he only pretended to care back then. I felt dizzy due to my rising fever, yet I had to shake it off for the sake of this occasion. As soon as we entered, all eyes fell on us. My hand was wrapped around his, and I could feel my grip tightening because of how nervous I was, which was weird because I was always the confident one. When we walked in, a man approached us with a smile and extended his hand to Dante. โ€œAlpha Dante, itโ€™s a pleasure to meet you,โ€ he said while completely ignoring my presence. โ€œAlways good to see you, Mark,โ€ he said, returning the handshake. I stood there awkwardly as the two men continued to talk. The man didnโ€™t even glance in my direction, making me feel like an outsider. After a while, I slowly released my grip and took a small step back, then another, until I had created some distance between usโ€”but I could still hear their voices. โ€œSo, Alpha, why didnโ€™t you accept the marriage proposal?โ€ he asked, as if I wasnโ€™t in the room with them. โ€œIโ€™m not sure where that rumor came from. I already have a wife,โ€ Dante said, laughing, catching me off guard. But I quickly reminded myself it was probably just to save face. After a while, the show started, and I was back at Danteโ€™s side. It was a live band playing one of my favorite songs. I closed my eyes as memories from years ago flooded backโ€”when I used to perform on stages, traveling on tours. But after the incident, it felt like I lost my voice. โ€œLuna, didnโ€™t you use to sing?โ€ I heard a voice from among the crowd, and my eyes snapped open. โ€œYes! Why donโ€™t you sing for us?โ€ another said. โ€œWaitโ€ฆwhatโ€ฆIโ€ฆโ€ I tried to speak, but they cut me off. โ€œCome on, one song! Donโ€™t be shy. Youโ€™ve earned many awards for your singing.โ€ It was true, but right now, I couldnโ€™t. Before I could protest, a woman grabbed my hand forcefully and pulled me to the stage, handing me a mic. I stood in front of the stage, staring at the crowd in front of me. This was nothing compared to the hundreds of people I had sung in front of in the past, but back then, they didnโ€™t look at me with such disdain. โ€œSing!โ€ They urged, while my heart raced. In the crowd, I could see Dante staring at me expectantly. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I just couldnโ€™t. A sudden wave of dizziness hit me, making my body sway slightly. My skin was burning up, but at the same time, I felt so cold that my fingers were trembling. Gosh, I should have stayed back at home. My head was pounding and my legs felt like they werenโ€™t even mine anymore. โ€œIโ€ฆIโ€ฆsorry. Iโ€ฆโ€ I tried to say, but my vision suddenly blurred, and the next thing I knew, the room was tilting. No, I was falling. The last thing I saw was an image of Danteโ€™s wide eyes as he rushed toward me, but everything went black before I could see if he caught me. When I opened my eyes, I was lying in my bed. โ€œDonโ€™t move,โ€ a voice said sternly. It wasnโ€™t Danteโ€™sโ€”it was the packโ€™s healer. I blinked, watching him mix something in a small bowl. โ€œYou collapsed at the party,โ€ he explained, not looking at me. โ€œI canโ€™t believe the Alpha called me for something so trivial. There are people in this pack who genuinely need my help, notโ€ฆโ€ his words trailed off. I stared at the window. My throat was dry, and my head was aching like crazy. I wanted to close my eyes, but the healer continued muttering. โ€œHonestly, wasting my time on someone whoโ€™s probably just fine. Itโ€™s not like I have better things to do,โ€ he said, as if I wasnโ€™t lying right next to him. The room fell silent. After a few minutes, the door opened, and Dante stepped in. โ€œWhat happened?โ€ he asked the healer. โ€œNothing serious,โ€ the healer said, waving his hand dismissively. โ€œSheโ€™s been indoors too much. Likely a mix of stress and low energy. Sheโ€™ll be fine after some rest and sunlight.โ€ Dante crossed his arms. โ€œShe fainted in the middle of a party. Thatโ€™s not nothing.โ€ But the healer only sighed in frustration. โ€œAlpha, Iโ€™ve told you what I think. If you donโ€™t trust my judgment, perhaps youโ€™d like to consult someone else. As I said, she just needs rest.โ€ Danteโ€™s jaw clenched as he thought for a moment. โ€œLeave,โ€ he ordered. The healer wasted no time gathering his things before leaving the room. When the door shut, the room fell silent again. I didnโ€™t dare look at Danteโ€”I was still staring at the ceilingโ€”but I could feel his presence close. โ€œWhy didnโ€™t you say anything earlier?โ€ he finally asked. I closed my eyes as the headache worsened. โ€œIโ€™m fine,โ€ I whispered. There was another wave of silence between us until I heard his footsteps retreating, followed by the door closing. Only then did I open my eyes. I managed to sit up and opened my drawer, picking up a bag containing pills. I grabbed the bottled water I always had next to my bed and gulped down the medicine. Without taking this, I wouldnโ€™t be able to sleep. Chapter 3 The next days that followed, I started noticing Dante more often in the house than before. Although we never truly had a proper conversation, he wasnโ€™t yelling like he used to. โ€œMy husband has been really cold and distant lately.โ€ I overheard a conversation between two maids while I was walking down the hallway. They were whispering, but I could hear them clearly. โ€œDo you have a child yet?โ€ the older maid asked while the younger one shook her head. โ€œI wanted to wait, but nowโ€ฆ I donโ€™t know. Maybe it was a mistake. Heโ€™s barely home, and when he is, it feels like weโ€™re strangers.โ€ โ€œAh, thatโ€™s just what happens with newlyweds. Men get restless, but trust me, once you give him a child, everything will change. Heโ€™ll return to his loving self. Thatโ€™s how itโ€™s always been.โ€ I froze upon hearing those words. A child? Was that the answer? But Dante had never asked for one, which is why I never even considered it. But nowโ€ฆ maybeโ€ฆ just maybe. That night, I found myself standing in front of Danteโ€™s office, debating whether to knock or not. Just then, the door opened, and he stepped out. He looked surprised when he saw me there. His gaze shifted from my head to my toes. I was wearing a slightly transparent nightgown, but at the last minute, I had thrown a robe over it. โ€œDante,โ€ I whispered. โ€œAre you busy?โ€ We had done this many times in the past. Whenever he wanted it, he would come to my room. But for the past year, he had stopped coming. I assumed he had grown tired of me. So, I never made a moveโ€”until now. โ€œIf you are not busy, I was thinkingโ€ฆโ€ I tugged on his shirt, silently praying he wouldnโ€™t reject me. To my surprise, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me inside, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click. My heart pounded in my chest. I reached for the tie of my robe, but before I could even pull it off, his lips crashed onto mine. He gripped me firmly, holding me in place as his mouth moved against mine. It felt like he was desperate. But even thenโ€ฆ his kiss felt cold. Before I could even think, his hands were already at the tie of my robe, and it pulled open. It fell from my shoulders, and I stood there in just my nightgown and nothing underneath. He didnโ€™t waste time, grabbing the hem of my nightgown and pulling it over my head. Now I was standing before him, nervously fidgeting with my fingers. His eyes darkened for a brief second before his expression went blank again. โ€œLie down,โ€ he commanded. Without a second thought, I moved toward the bed, doing exactly what he told me to. The next morning, when I woke up, I was sore all over. Dante wasnโ€™t in the room. He had left that same night as soon as he was done. Gosh, I regretted it instantly. Last night, although filled with pleasure, was emotionless. He didnโ€™t utter a single word or make a single sound. Even when he released inside of me. Nothing. It felt like a machine doing its job, even worse than before. It took me a while to pick myself up and return to my room. And after that day, I saw less and less of Dante. He was always busy with work and even missed our usual morning breakfasts together. Two months passed in the blink of an eye, and nothing really changed. โ€œI want to go to the beach,โ€ I suddenly brought it up during breakfast. โ€œI will arrange for us to go this weekend,โ€ he said, looking at his phone. โ€œNoโ€ฆ just me. I want to go alone,โ€ I said, and his eyes instantly snapped up to meet mine. โ€œYou want to go alone?โ€ he repeated. โ€œWhy? Who do you want to meet?โ€ โ€œWhy do you assume I want to meet someone?โ€ I asked, but I was met with a cold glare, causing me to swallow nothing. โ€œI heard your friend is in town.โ€ He was talking about Ryder, my childhood best friend who had confessed his love to me in the past, but I had turned him down to be with Dante. Although I was aware he was in town, he still wasnโ€™t the reason I was going to the beach. โ€œI just want some time alone. I have been locked inside for too long. Didnโ€™t the healer say that I needed more sunlight and fresh air?โ€ I reminded him. He glared at me, then nodded. โ€œFine, I will make arrangements for a guard to accompany you.โ€ Even though I wanted to argue, I knew it was pointless, so I nodded. That weekend, I went to the beach alone. Well, not alone. The guard was following me but from a distance. I inhaled the salty air and watched the crashing waves. I played in the sand and picked shells, trying to remind myself of the good old days. Sitting on the floor, I thought about Dante again. I missed himโ€”or at least the version of him that I had married. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didnโ€™t notice the guard moving closer. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my back as a knife was plunged deep into my skin. I gasped, and before I could scream, he yanked the knife out, whispering, โ€œThe Blackwood family deserves to die.โ€ A shiver ran down my spine, but before I could react, he raised the knife again, preparing to strike. โ€œHey!โ€ A fisherman spotted us and shouted, rushing towards us and raising alarm. The guard, realizing he had been caught, ran away while I collapsed on the floor, struggling to breathe. โ€œStay with me, miss,โ€ the fisherman panicked, reaching out for his phone. Ah! He didnโ€™t recognize me. Thank God. If he did, he would have also left me to die. But even that didnโ€™t stop me from losing more blood until I lost consciousness. Chapter 4 Danteโ€™s POV I was at a pack meeting when I got the call that Amaya had been stabbedโ€”by not just anyone, but one of my own men. โ€œWhat?โ€ I barked into the phone, startling the Alphas around me. My heart pounded violently in my chest, and for the first time in years, true fear gripped me. I left immediately, shifting into my wolf and racing toward the hospital. By the time I arrived, I was breathing heavily, and my hands were shaking. The doctor was waiting for me. โ€œThe wound was deep,โ€ he started. โ€œShe lost a lot of blood. It will take at least a month for her to fully recover.โ€ I frowned. โ€œA month?โ€ That didnโ€™t make sense. With her wolf, she should be healed in a week at most. โ€œThereโ€™sโ€ฆ something else.โ€ The doctor hesitated. โ€œSpit it out,โ€ I growled. โ€œYour wife was weeks pregnant, Alphaโ€ฆ but she lost the child due to the trauma.โ€ Everything stopped. A ringing in my ear drowned out all other sound, and my eyes turned red. The doctorโ€™s mouth was still moving, but I couldnโ€™t hear him. Pregnant? Amaya was pregnant? My body moved before I could think, and I grabbed the doctor by the collar, slamming him against the wall. โ€œYouโ€™re lying,โ€ I snarled, my claws digging into his chest while my wolf howled in agony, wanting to break free. โ€œShe wasnโ€™t pregnant! She would have told me!โ€ โ€œItโ€™s still in the early stagesโ€ฆ she must not haveโ€”โ€ โ€œShe did this on purpose, didnโ€™t she?โ€ I cut him off. โ€œShe didnโ€™t tell me because she planned to leave! She was going to run off with Ryder, wasnโ€™t she?โ€ I couldnโ€™t think straight. This was Amayaโ€™s fault. She had been distant, she wanted to go to the beach alone. She had let her guard downโ€ฆ I shoved the doctor away and turned, my fists clenched so tightly that my nails dug into my skin. When she woke up, I confronted her about the news, but she just stared at me, emotionless like she usually did. Even now, she felt no remorse. She didnโ€™t shed a single tear, and that annoyed me. I gritted my teeth and stormed out of the room. The guard who had stabbed her was still on the run, so after she was discharged, I had her quarantined in her room. She wasnโ€™t allowed to step out for anything, but just in case, I stationed two guards outside and monitored the maids going in and out of her room. All her meals and drinks had to go through me before they reached her. I wasnโ€™t taking any chances. If she wanted to act emotionless, fine. But I wasnโ€™t going to let her make another mistakeโ€”wasnโ€™t going to let her run away or get the freedom she wanted because of her reckless decisions. For days, she barely spoke. She ate without complaint, bathed, and slept as if nothing had happened. Her indifference made me angry. Did she not care that she had lost our child? As for the guard who had stabbed her, I personally hunted him down. Kneeling before me, covered in dirt and blood, he trembled as he dared to meet my gaze. His lips quivered as he spoke. โ€œI was doing you a favor, Alpha,โ€ he choked out. โ€œThe Blackwoodโ€ฆ they all deserve to die. Sheโ€™s aโ€”โ€ I snapped his neck before he could finish. Though I felt I should have tortured him, should have made him suffer, I couldnโ€™t waste another second on a traitor who thought he had the right to decide my fate. Wiping the blood off my hands, I turned to my men. โ€œBurn his body. Let it be a warning to anyone else who dares to defy me.โ€ They bowed their heads in obedience, dragging the corpse away. That night, I headed straight to her room unannounced to deliver the news. She was sitting by the window, staring at the moon, and didnโ€™t turn around when I entered. โ€œHeโ€™s dead,โ€ I said. She didnโ€™t respond. I clenched my fists, stepping closer. โ€œI hunted him down myself. Snapped his neck like the traitor he was.โ€ Still nothing. My jaw tightened. โ€œIs that all youโ€™re going to do? Just sit there and stare at moon like nothing happened?โ€ Finally, she turned her head slightly. I flinched when I saw the emptiness in her eyesโ€”she looked like a living corpse. โ€œWhat do you want me to say, Alpha?โ€ โ€œYou lost our child,โ€ I growled, taking another step forward. โ€œAnd you sit here as if you feel nothing.โ€ Her lips pressed into a thin line. โ€œWhat do you want me to do? Cry? Scream? You already decided this was my fault.โ€ I scoffed. โ€œIsnโ€™t it?โ€ She lowered her head. โ€œOf course. Everything is always my fault.โ€ My blood boiled, and I grabbed her by the arm, yanking her to her feet. โ€œDonโ€™t play games with me.โ€ โ€œThen let go.โ€ I gritted my teeth, staring down at her, but then my eyes widened when my gaze reached her fingersโ€”I saw her ring was missing. โ€œYour ringโ€ฆ You took it off.โ€ She looked at her hand, and when she saw it wasnโ€™t there, she muttered, โ€œOh.โ€ Oh. Just an oh. Even though I hated her, I never took off my ring. It was the only reminder of what we once shared. โ€œThatโ€™s it?โ€ I snarled. โ€œYou take off our bond like it meant nothing, and all you can say is โ€˜ohโ€™? If you hated me this much, you should have just left.โ€ Her lips curved into a small, bitter smile. โ€œDidnโ€™t I try?โ€ โ€œYouโ€”โ€ โ€œBut you wouldnโ€™t let me, so why are you surprised? You chained me to you. Did you really think a ring would change that?โ€ โ€œThatโ€™s enough,โ€ I said, shutting my eyes and shoving her back onto the bed. I took a step back, running a hand through my hair. โ€œPut the ring back on.โ€ โ€œNo.โ€ โ€œThat wasnโ€™t a request.โ€ โ€œI canโ€™t, because I didnโ€™t take it off. It must have fallen off somewhere at the beach,โ€ she said, turning back to face the window. โ€œI will go search for it,โ€ I said, stepping back and running my hand through my hair. She didnโ€™t answer. โ€œGo to bed.โ€ I clenched my jaw, and without another word, I left, slamming the door behind me. Chapter 5 Dante POV Five Years Ago โ€“ Flashback โ€œDid you sleep well?โ€ I asked, running my fingers through Amayaโ€™s silky hair as her head rested on my lap. โ€œNo,โ€ she pouted, turning her face up to look at me. I smirked, brushing a loose strand behind her ear. โ€œAnd why is that, princess?โ€ She huffed dramatically. โ€œBecause you werenโ€™t there.โ€ It had only been a short missionโ€”three days at the borderโ€”but she acted as if I had been gone for months. I chuckled, trailing my fingers down her jaw. โ€œI told you Iโ€™d come back.โ€ โ€œYouโ€™re always leaving,โ€ she muttered, crossing her arms. โ€œAnd one day, you wonโ€™t.โ€ My smirk faltered. Amaya was the Alphaโ€™s only daughter, raised in the safety of the packhouse, protected like an egg. She had never known real war, real danger. And yet, she feared losing me more than anything. I gently tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze. โ€œI will always come back to you.โ€ She blinked, her emerald eyes searching mine for a moment before she whispered, โ€œPromise?โ€ I leaned down, brushing my lips against her forehead. โ€œI swear it.โ€ A small smile tugged at her lips, but I could still see the hesitation in her eyes. She didnโ€™t like my life as a soldier, didnโ€™t like the bloodshed or the risks. But she loved me enough to endure it. โ€œCome with me next time,โ€ she said, catching me off guard. I raised a brow. โ€œWhat?โ€ โ€œOn your next mission,โ€ she said, propping herself up on her elbows. โ€œI want to see what itโ€™s like.โ€ I laughed, shaking my head. โ€œAbsolutely not.โ€ She scowled. โ€œWhy not?โ€ โ€œBecause youโ€™re the Alphaโ€™s daughter,โ€ I reminded her. โ€œAnd your father would have my head if I let you anywhere near danger.โ€ She rolled her eyes. โ€œIโ€™m not a child, Dante.โ€ โ€œNo, but youโ€™re my princess,โ€ I murmured, pressing a kiss to her palm. โ€œAnd I wonโ€™t let anything happen to you.โ€ She sighed in frustration but didnโ€™t argue further. Instead, she curled up against me, resting her head on my chest. โ€œThen donโ€™t take so long next time,โ€ she whispered, and I wrapped my arms around her, inhaling the familiar scent of lavender and honey. End of Flashback Ding! Ding! My phone vibrated, startling me out of my sleep. My neck was sore as I had dozed off at my desk. Glancing at my phone, I saw a message from Amaya. I frowned. โ€œIโ€™m sorry.โ€ I scoffed. Sorry? She was apologizing? She should have done that sooner and made things easier for both of us, but she just had to be so stubborn. I picked up my pen to continue signing some documents. But then 10 minutes passed and I found myself just flipping the pages. โ€œShe never apologizes,โ€ Mako, my wolf, said, and my hand froze. It was true. Amaya had never been one to admit when she was wrong, even in the past. She had always been proud, but more than that, she had always been distant, keeping her emotions hidden. Something wasnโ€™t right. I immediately grabbed my phone to call her, but the line went straight to voicemail. I got up from my desk and sped past the hallway. There was no way she would have run away. She wouldnโ€™t. She wouldnโ€™tโ€ฆ she couldnโ€™t. When I got to her room, I saw two guards standing outside. โ€œHas she left her room?โ€ was the first thing I asked. โ€œNo, Alpha. In fact, she has been asleep for a while now. Told us not to disturb her,โ€ one of them replied, and I sighed in relief. Well, that was good. At least she was actually apologizing, but why did I still feel uneasy? She hadnโ€™t left. She was still here. But why wasnโ€™t she answering me? I opened the door, and the moment I stepped inside, I saw her lying in her bed. I breathed another sigh of relief. โ€œSomething feels off,โ€ Mako said. I walked closer to her and bent down beside her bed. When I touched her, her skin was cold, causing me to catch my breath. โ€œAmaya,โ€ I whispered, shaking her, but there was no response. โ€œAmaya!โ€ I shouted, shaking her harder, but still, no response. She wasnโ€™t waking up. โ€œNo,โ€ I whispered, backing away as my gaze shifted around the room, trying to pinpoint whyโ€”until it landed on her nightstand. My blood ran cold when I saw them. Scattered pills. Not one. Not two. Dozens. And they were all empty. My body froze as everything came crashing down. Noโ€ฆ I stumbled back and rushed to her, shaking her violently this time. โ€œAmaya! Wake up!โ€ My hands were shaking as I checked the pulse in her wrist. I felt a pulseโ€ฆ but it was weak. Too weak. I turned to the guards at the door. โ€œGet the healer! Get the doctor, NOW!โ€ I watched the hours tick by as the healer worked on Amayaโ€™s unconscious form. I stood by her bedside, clenching my fists while my wolf paced recklessly in my mind. โ€œSheโ€™s stable,โ€ the healer finally said, wiping sweat from his brow. โ€œBut her body is weak. It will take time before she wakes up, so she must be monitored closely.โ€ I barely heard the last part before he bowed and left, leaving just the two of us alone. Right now, she looked so paleโ€ฆ like a ghost. I canโ€™t believe I hadnโ€™t noticed it before. I grabbed her wrist, feeling her faint pulse. โ€œLook what youโ€™ve done,โ€ I muttered. How dare you try to leave me? โ€œIsnโ€™t this what you wanted?โ€ Mako taunted. โ€œOur mate almost died. Arenโ€™t you supposed to be happy? You wanted this, didnโ€™t you?โ€ No. I shook my head. My breathing was becoming heavier, so I had to step back, but I almost stumbled. โ€œI didnโ€™t want her dead. I justโ€ฆ I just wanted her to suffer by my side.โ€ She canโ€™t leave me. Never. I wonโ€™t let that happen. LEARN_MORE https://getokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=18708&u Galaxy in the Story https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/ 2,500 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 getokn.com VIDEO https://getokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=18708&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/t39.35426-6/480561828_983072123738502_1521414312975860996_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=sC2mn8Ikz3cQ7kNvgGphNAj&_nc_oc=AdiLjzETRVe9MnZts4qMro9x1GRDfBtD5fdxRURxdsJaOU_qp_S-ZiTchq42tm67GyRaNHJOVI2pbWEtEvd8M1kD&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AliTxMIkm2fpgE_S1c5xO8j&oh=00_AYB2eb0pAlDwZWBmwLSCbfnA1RQCDcg8Jw5g8WaUwyrKjA&oe=67CC3405 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Galaxy in the Story 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2025-03-03 19:09 active 2791 0 Check Your Rate with ELFI At ELFI, we offer a variety of loan options to fit your needs, whether youโ€™re a parent, student, or a postgraduate. Find the loan thatโ€™s right for you, with personalized support and no fees or painful waiting. Itโ€™s easy to get started. Preview your estimated rates and repayment options in minutes without commitment or impacting your credit score. See the ELFI difference for yourself today! LEARN_MORE https://www.elfi.com/find-my-rate-1/private-studen ELFI https://www.facebook.com/savewithelfi/ 6,020 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn More 0 elfi.com DCO Click for details. https://www.elfi.com/find-my-rate-1/private-student-loans-elfi/?utm_source=pai&utm_medium=facebook&utm_campaign=houston 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475276846_507478431907784_2070700596869398744_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=swuV9GvEAEcQ7kNvgF3WAsi&_nc_oc=AdgrVMsGr0icxccdNT1TOPJe36ctTLTMuRIYHub2K02ag0gRv1NLKVHuBedYJ3rkNKfqO8jn2XGI8cWfX3MlbP1t&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aj16yEMbWAryjlXskQGlOzG&oh=00_AYAthtV2y0M2inOjugoFPR21-wTCTFkvUNNWlzvZ-w5J2A&oe=67CC0661 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 ELFI 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2025-03-03 19:09 active 2791 0 ๐Ÿ’—Safe online dating ๐Ÿ˜˜ โ˜€๏ธ Looking for exciting connections? Meet and chat with singles near you. ๐Ÿ’– It's fast, fun, and free. ๐Ÿ’ƒ Try this website today! ๐ŸŒท LEARN_MORE https://feeling.me/l/8Zmjt7 Feeling.me https://www.facebook.com/61550771918965/ 8,867 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 feeling.me IMAGE Worth a try! https://feeling.me/l/8Zmjt7 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468679747_1550260438962100_4106339283130495308_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=48vpAjJdA2wQ7kNvgEUvvKL&_nc_oc=AdhB4Fu6ZoZQY58URo90Fm7gJlEv5Ya4jRt7Vdfrj6R90-qRQs4eRN3uZJffzV_Q-UXDcO8o__oK-dDSnYY4nJkn&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aj16yEMbWAryjlXskQGlOzG&oh=00_AYDWM-tXHya_bF2vppkhO2mJbk2ZBRmBpFOk5GrLtRhsSg&oe=67CC33B8 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Feeling.me 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2025-03-03 18:52 active 2790 0 ๐ŸŽ‰ GIVEAWAY ALERT! ๐ŸŽ‰ @auntiesandmamas partnered with some amazing platforms to bring you a fun and educational giveaway! Hereโ€™s your chance to WIN a FREE 1:1 session and resources that will help support your toddlerโ€™s development! ๐Ÿงธโœจ PRIZES: ๐ŸŽ 1:1 session with Pediatric Nurse Practitioner Kelly-Ann of @cubconvos ๐ŸŽ 30+ pages of digital play-to-learn activities that focus on color fun (preschooler aged) ๐ŸŽ 30 page digital daily routine guide written by Speech Pathologists of @elevate.toddler.play HOW TO ENTER: 1๏ธโƒฃ Follow @elevate.toddler.play, @cubconvos, and @auntiesandmamas 2๏ธโƒฃ Tag at least 2 friends in the comments below! 3๏ธโƒฃ For a BONUS entry, share this giveaway flyer on your stories and tag us! Giveaway ends 3/5 at 12pm EST Giveaway open to US residents & has no affiliation with #instagram Winner will be announced via DM, so keep an eye on your inbox! Best wishes, and donโ€™t forget to spread the word! ๐Ÿคฉ #Giveaway #ToddlerDevelopment #Parenting #EducationalResources #SpeechPathology #PediatricNurse #MomLife #ToddlerFun #homeschool #parentsupport #sahm #homeschoolpreschool VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE http://instagram.com/auntiesandmamas auntiesandmamas https://www.instagram.com/_u/auntiesandmamas 0 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Visit Instagram profile 0 instagram.com IMAGE http://instagram.com/auntiesandmamas 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-19/458924252_501316722930466_2000167075413189194_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s206x206_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=525117&_nc_ohc=JQBHa4NtExcQ7kNvgFciYwS&_nc_oc=AdjK8CgVT3395V0Q--u716ns9vBWnrFpKIw0VGkv7u9gMmD6bYMB-jmXY96oEKEV68KFWF9EtWhHAJTnYSWv7kLw&_nc_zt=24&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.cdninstagram.com&oh=00_AYADCpyf3HWo4cMKMRGt_KgXnT6lVpx_Kre2byrH62SGaQ&oe=67CC2FD2 IG_ADS_IDENTITY 1 0 0 auntiesandmamas 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2025-03-03 18:55 active 2790 0 Saiba mais LEARN_MORE https://chat.whatsapp.com/BAVfXcvTS8VK1SnjezM8RK Kelly Campos - Posicionamento Marcante https://www.facebook.com/akellycampos/ 0 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn More 0 chat.whatsapp.com DCO WhatsApp Group Invite https://chat.whatsapp.com/BAVfXcvTS8VK1SnjezM8RK 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481250959_647257287875252_2645890199755973629_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xjm0ES7tb8UQ7kNvgE2JtEG&_nc_oc=AdiBDofw98ELe3hLjENxndbLctrxv3g40xEva0-RT_9WcFEj2xUzmpZ1vUzvQc1H6NPDI4rEpeSWiUZpgipK_Y1g&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AUxVt-Y55ItdbPPvpClSwRT&oh=00_AYDwevaVQWpVv2B6HTC0ZP-u55rm8PAHgwt8zt74t9Tv8g&oe=67CC0FA6 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Kelly Campos - Posicionamento Marcante 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2025-03-03 19:11 active 2791 0 ๐Ÿ˜Ž๐‘ป๐’‰๐’‚๐’๐’Œ ๐’š๐’๐’–, ๐’„๐’†๐’“๐’•๐’Š๐’‡๐’Š๐’†๐’… ๐’ƒ๐’š ๐’•๐’‰๐’† ๐‘จ๐’Ž๐’†๐’“๐’Š๐’„๐’‚๐’ ๐‘ฉ๐’๐’‚๐’“๐’… ๐’๐’‡ ๐‘ผ๐’“๐’๐’๐’๐’ˆ๐’š, ๐’‘๐’“๐’๐’—๐’Š๐’…๐’†๐’” ๐’†๐’‡๐’‡๐’†๐’„๐’•๐’Š๐’—๐’† ๐’”๐’๐’๐’–๐’•๐’Š๐’๐’๐’” ๐’‡๐’๐’“ ๐’–๐’“๐’Š๐’๐’‚๐’“๐’š ๐’–๐’“๐’ˆ๐’†๐’๐’„๐’š ๐’‚๐’๐’… ๐’‘๐’“๐’๐’”๐’•๐’‚๐’•๐’† ๐’‰๐’†๐’‚๐’๐’•๐’‰. โœจ ๐‘ฏ๐’† ๐’‚๐’‘๐’‘๐’“๐’๐’‚๐’„๐’‰ ๐’‰๐’†๐’๐’‘๐’”: โœ… ๐‘บ๐’–๐’‘๐’‘๐’๐’“๐’• ๐’‚ ๐’‰๐’†๐’‚๐’๐’•๐’‰๐’š ๐’‘๐’“๐’๐’”๐’•๐’‚๐’•๐’† โœ… ๐‘ฐ๐’Ž๐’‘๐’“๐’๐’—๐’† ๐’–๐’“๐’Š๐’๐’‚๐’“๐’š ๐’„๐’๐’Ž๐’‡๐’๐’“๐’• LEARN_MORE https://amaizon.net/01YCJ.html Zakitejsjkajd https://www.facebook.com/61570274587086/ 0 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 amaizon.net VIDEO https://amaizon.net/01YCJ.html 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480703809_1302962280976307_7362150140197409238_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=fQQ1ouRaqEgQ7kNvgEDye7T&_nc_oc=AdgjsN1n_sAJGO0s1tAk06NjSETQrpCwTyQHfjsGBJ8LJkscTKbyg-LoD3kaTZLwMviHmZTyhO46EqmAHAESrezk&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AU_0-cIbaCegyR0DOAagmvJ&oh=00_AYC4zNetBNjXUZj9Xyi2XD6r3e-huVZchKZaYnohQjZeAQ&oe=67CC1A38 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Zakitejsjkajd 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2025-03-03 18:54 active 2790 0 ๐Ÿ”ฅMASSIVE MATTRESS SALE: $49 Gets a New Mattress TODAY! "Buy NOW, Pay LATER" ๐Ÿšจ ๐—ฅ๐—ข๐—ช๐—”๐—ก ๐—–๐—ข๐—จ๐—ก๐—ง๐—ฌ ๐Ÿšจ Tax Season Mattress Sale is HERE! ๐Ÿ‘‰ ๐—™๐—ข๐—ฅ ๐—ง๐—›๐—˜ ๐—ก๐—˜๐—ซ๐—ง ๐—™๐—˜๐—ช ๐——๐—”๐—ฌ๐—ฆ ๐—ข๐—ก๐—Ÿ๐—ฌ: To kick-off the 2025 tax season we want to help you SLEEP BETTER & SAVE BIG on name-brand luxury mattresses! ๐—ฆ๐—ฎ๐˜ƒ๐—ฒ ๐—จ๐—ฝ ๐˜๐—ผ ๐Ÿฑ๐Ÿฌ-๐Ÿณ๐Ÿด% ๐—ข๐—™๐—™ ๐—ฅ๐—ฒ๐˜๐—ฎ๐—ถ๐—น ๐—ฆ๐˜๐—ผ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ ๐—ฃ๐—ฟ๐—ถ๐—ฐ๐—ฒ๐˜€! โœ… King Starting at $199 โœ… Queen Starting at $129 โœ… Full Starting at $99 โœ… Twin Starting at $79 ** ๐˜‹๐˜Œ๐˜“๐˜๐˜๐˜Œ๐˜™๐˜  ๐˜ˆ๐˜๐˜ˆ๐˜๐˜“๐˜ˆ๐˜‰๐˜“๐˜Œ ๐Ÿคฏ $๐Ÿฐ๐Ÿต ๐—š๐—ฒ๐˜๐˜€ ๐—ฎ ๐—ก๐—ฒ๐˜„ ๐— ๐—ฎ๐˜๐˜๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐˜€๐˜€ ๐—ง๐—ข๐——๐—”๐—ฌ! We have the best deals in Salisbury & Rowan County. Why overpay with retail prices? ๐—ฃ๐—œ๐—˜๐——๐— ๐—ข๐—ก๐—ง ๐—”๐—จ๐—ง๐—›๐—ข๐—ฅ๐—œ๐—ญ๐—˜๐—— ๐——๐—˜๐—”๐—Ÿ๐—˜๐—ฅ: We are an authorized dealer for top brand mattresses like ๐๐ฎ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๐ฒ, ๐‹๐ž๐ž๐ฌ๐š, ๐‡๐ž๐ฅ๐ข๐ฑ, ๐–๐ข๐ง๐ค๐›๐ž๐๐ฌ, ๐๐ซ๐จ๐จ๐ค๐ฅ๐ฒ๐ง ๐๐ž๐๐๐ข๐ง๐  & ๐Œ๐จ๐ซ๐ž... Get the same name-brand mattresses at half the price with better service! Locally Owned & Operated - No Pushy Sales, Just Great Value! โžก ๐—–๐—น๐—ถ๐—ฐ๐—ธ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ "๐—ฆ๐—ฒ๐—ป๐—ฑ ๐— ๐—ฒ๐˜€๐˜€๐—ฎ๐—ด๐—ฒ" ๐˜๐—ผ ๐—Ÿ๐—ผ๐—ฐ๐—ธ ๐—ถ๐—ป ๐—ฌ๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—ฟ ๐—ฆ๐—ฝ๐—ผ๐˜! MESSAGE_PAGE Carolinas Affordable Mattress https://www.facebook.com/CarolinasAffordableMattress/ 2,497 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Send message 0 VIDEO We offer the best deals on mattresses and furniture in the Salisbury area. Locally owned no pressure sales we help you get the best mattress for you at the best possible price in town! 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480707529_1287714675853876_5728095017175455407_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=l-Jq5KKBA0MQ7kNvgFNDk9a&_nc_oc=AdgYfygeaPULa7ISoSr3ycfgcPAWD3F-bOQG7WhaT7HP0dp3RrnVfqQ4TaukCuqhPXUWUWuJQv17KEQvVoNLaguk&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AzsMnmMQCgZAzn5zYMVBCv8&oh=00_AYBxFM7ClYJrTmyzpcRwM1GrjdE9wkGm7QbzaR3pPVTdvg&oe=67CC1AC6 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Carolinas Affordable Mattress 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2025-03-03 19:18 active 2792 0 ๐Ÿ”ฅNEW POPULAR READ๐Ÿ”ฅ I am standing here, watching as she packs her stuff. I have tried to talk to her, wanted to make her tell me what is going on in her head. I have tried to find out why my mate, my daughterโ€™s mom, wants to leave me. I have been everything I possibly can be for her while she carried our daughter. I show her my respect and my trust. I had her help with the pack as my Luna. I thought we were good. โ€œMia, sweetheart, please talk to me. What happened?โ€ I try to take her into my arms, but she steps away. โ€œDonโ€™t; I am done. I am tired of this.โ€ She says, not even looking at me. โ€œTired about what? Mia, please.โ€ I beg her. โ€œEverything.โ€ She sneers. โ€œI hate this life; I hate being here. I hate being a mom. I wasnโ€™t ready for that.โ€ โ€œYou know we canโ€™t control what happens when you go to heat Mia. We will manage. I will help you. Like I have been all the time. Youโ€™re not alone. She is ours.โ€ โ€œI donโ€™t want her!โ€ she screams at me. And I look at her. โ€œMia, please donโ€™t do this. We can figure it out together,โ€ I tell her. โ€œNo, you can keep her. I donโ€™t want her. I just want to travel and enjoy my life. Not think about a mate or a baby.โ€ โ€œWe can still travel, sweetheart.โ€ She doesnโ€™t answer. Grab her bags and turn to me. โ€œNo, I donโ€™t want to be a mother. I donโ€™t want her or you.โ€ I gasped, already feeling my heart being ripped. โ€œI, Mia Andrews, Reject you, Alpha Logan, and my daughter Rosalie. I denounce my role as Luna for the Pack.โ€ My heart is being ripped apart. Feeling her rejection, also she denounces the pack. โ€œGoodbye, Logan.โ€ She left. She left and didnโ€™t think twice about it. She left, ripping half of my heart. Titan was whining in my head, wanting his mate. I was on the floor, fighting not to fall apart. A loud cry rips through me, and I realize it is coming from the nursery. I get up and walk into the nursery, and there in her cradle, my little, sweet, beautiful baby girl is crying. I know, without a doubt, that she must have felt the family bond break when Mia rejected her as her daughter. I lift her. I know what I need to do, not only for my sake but for my daughter, who I now have to raise on my own. I can still feel the bit that is left of our bond after she rejected me. And I need to erase that if I am going to find out how to deal and move on. So I feel for the rest of our bond and find the mind link. โ€˜I, Nathan King, accept the rejection and denounce of my mate and Luna, and as the mother of my daughter. I, with this, ban her from the Pack.โ€™ I feel the last piece of my bond with Mia disappear. I will devote myself to my little girl. Raise her to be a strong and kind person. I will fight to be everything she can need in her life. I will do anything to keep her safe and happy. My pack must have felt what happened, but I cannot deal with that today. Today itโ€™s about me and my little rose. I am Logan King. I am nineteen and have been The Alpha of my pack. The strongest pack there is in North America since I was seventeen. Not only are we the strongest pack, but I am also the youngest Alpha and the strongest one seen in several decades. When I turned sixteen and didnโ€™t get my wolf, my parents were worried, but the day I turned seventeen, Titan came to me, and I finally met my wolf. Everyone had been shocked by his size and the incredible strength and power that came from Titan. A few months after I had gotten Titan, our pack was attacked by rouges, and even though we won, I lost my parents. Despite only being seventeen, I was chosen to be the Alpha, and from that day, I have done everything to keep my pack safe. Chapter 2 OLIVIA - Present Time โ€œHarder, Olivia. I know you can be better than this.โ€ My brother Matt with the demanding tone of a teacher. Trying to satisfy him, I kick the bag harder and faster and do a series of mixed-up kicks and hits. Looking behind me, I see him nod approvingly. โ€œMuch better. Come sit down.โ€ And I walk over and sit down next to my classmates. Itโ€™s Friday, and every Friday, he tests us. Sometimes like this where we show strength on the boxing bag. Other times we fight him or each other. My brother is an awesome teacher, but he is also trained by our dad, just like I am. Our dad is one of the best warriors in the pack, and for him, it doesnโ€™t matter if you are a boy or a girl. Saying we live in a dangerous world, he thinks that every wolf should be able to fight, at the least, to protect themselves. So since I was a kid, I had been trained solely by my dad until I was old enough to join the first training program. Many say that dad is the best warrior, but when the old head warrior passed away, Alpha chose a close friend of his instead. Dad had said nothing and just went on with his life as usual. Taking care of Matt and me after our mom died from Wolfsbane, how she was poisoned no one knew. Being Friday, our Alpha, Alpha Colton, came by to see how training goes. I had started to become very uncomfortable whenever Alpha was around. Because of everything, I would find him following me around with his eyes. And when I caught him doing it, he would wink at me. Some pack members say that Alpha has started going insane after his mate and Luna was taken down during a rouge attack. They say he has become unpredictable and has ordered many female wolves to his room, where some of them didnโ€™t leave from there alive. Everyone thinks he should retire and let his son Carter take over, but he refuses and says his son isnโ€™t ready. Carter was okay, not someone I had ever had a whole lot of contact with, but he seemed fair and friendly with everyone in the pack. He was 22 years old and had yet to find his mate. I sat here, lost in my thoughts, and a big shadow suddenly covered me. Looking up, I saw Alpha Colton looking down at me before sitting down next to me. โ€œYou are a very skilled fighter, Olivia.โ€ He said as he looked me over, his eyes checking out my curves. โ€œThank you, Alpha,โ€ I answered, trying to hide, but it was hard since I was wearing shorts and a sports bra. โ€œAnd very beautiful. You look just like your mother.โ€ His eyes checked me out again, making me want to crawl out of my skin and hide. Before I can answer, my brother comes over and respectfully greet our Alpha before he tells me to go home for today. I jump up, grateful for being told to leave, and hurry out after saying my goodbyes. Entering our little house, I go straight to my room. Finding your mate is a huge deal. Your mate is your soulmate, the last piece of yourself. We can sense our wolves when we turn sixteen, but our wolves are not able to shift or recognize their mate before we turn eighteen. It does happen that a guy will sense his mate even though she is not eighteen. But most times that this happens, the guy waits without saying anything. It also happens that mates reject each other. For the one doing the rejection, it means he or she wonโ€™t get a chance of a second chance, mate, which happens mostly if someone loses their mate. But not everyone gets a second chance. We also donโ€™t communicate with our wolf fully before turning eighteen. So we donโ€™t talk all the time. Our communication is by emotions, which can be a little distracting if you get a sassy wolf. By dinnertime, I went downstairs and had dinner with my dad and brother. But unusual go how we always talk and have fun. It was quiet and tense. I didnโ€™t ask why assuming dad must have had a stressful day. โ€œOlivia?โ€ โ€œYes, dad?โ€ I looked up at him. โ€œTomorrow, I want you to pack a bag. We are going to visit your grandparents at another park. And we leave Sunday, so make sure to pack anything important you wouldnโ€™t want to leave behind, as we will be gone for a while.โ€ He tells me, making me look at him. โ€œWhy? Is something wrong?โ€ I ask. โ€œYour grandparents are getting old, and they miss you two. So we agreed we would go there for a while. It has all been agreed to by our Alpha to go visit some family and also the Alpha of the pack.โ€ He explains. โ€œOkay, dad. I will pack tomorrow.โ€ I answer, and he smiles. When we are done eating, I help with cleaning up and then hug dad before I go to be at the party. Matt is joining me because she-wolf could be his mate, and he is becoming anxious about finding her soon. After being at the party for an hour, we saw the girl find her mate among one of the newly shifted guys. Again I was so lost in thoughts that I didnโ€™t see the person approaching me before sitting next to me. And I am a little shocked to see Carter, the Alphasโ€™ son, sit down next to me. โ€œHello, Olivia.โ€œ He greets me. โ€œHello, Alpha Carter,โ€ I answered respectfully. โ€œAh, I am not the Alpha, so just Carter.โ€ He says, smiling, and I smile back โ€œI hear you and your family are going to visit some family from another pack.โ€ โ€œYes, we are,โ€ I confirm. โ€œThat is great.โ€ He says, still smiling, and after a little while, he stands up and mingles with the many teens here. After another few hours, Matt finds me, and we agree to go home. As we were on our way, we heard someone call our names, and someone came running toward us. Turning around, we are shocked to see it is Carter. Matt, Olivia.โ€ He greets us before continuing. โ€œI wanted to talk with you.โ€ He says and looks at us. โ€œWhat can we do for you, Alpha,โ€ Matt says, taking charge. โ€œPlease, Matt, donโ€™t call me Alpha, and I want to help you.โ€ He says, and we look at him, me unsure about what he wants to help us with. โ€œWhen you go visit the other pack. Donโ€™t come back, especially you, Olivia. Stay there, where you can be safe.โ€ โ€œWhat do.โ€ I begin, but Matt cuts in. โ€œIt is all under control Carter,โ€ Matt says, looking at Carter, that looks back at him and nods. โ€œGood, know I am sorry and trying to end it. I wish you all safe travels.โ€ With those words, he left. Chapter 3 OLIVIA Matt had refused to say anything about what Carter had said and what he had answered him and just said I would understand soon. I nodded and then go to my room to have a good rest. When I wake up, the house is quiet, and I look at the time and see it is already 9 in the morning. This makes me wonder because usually, dad would have had us out running like we do every morning. Halfway down the stairs, I hear dad and Matt talk. โ€œShe knows something is up, dad.โ€ โ€œWhat do you mean?โ€ โ€œCarter came to us on our way home and told us not to come back and stay at that pack where she would be safe. I donโ€™t think he meant any harm, though, but just wanted to help.โ€ โ€œCarter is a good boy.โ€ โ€œYes, but now Liv is suspicious. I donโ€™t think she knows what is going on with Alpha. But itโ€™s clear she has been feeling uncomfortable.โ€ Matt says. โ€œI will talk to her when we have left here and are safely in our pack.โ€ There is no answer to dadโ€™s words, and after that and they begin to talk about other stuff. I know something is going on, and this something has something to do with me. After a little I move again and enter the kitchen, seeing both of them sitting by the table where breakfast is served. โ€œMorning, Muffin. Are you feeling well?โ€ My dad asks โ€œYes, we not going running?โ€ I ask him, and he shakes his head. โ€œI thought a day off was okay, so we have time to pack so we can leave in the morning.โ€ โ€œOkay, dad,โ€ I say without showing he is hiding something. After breakfast, I go back to my room, find my biggest travel bag, and pack almost all my clothes in it. And in my smaller bag, I pack my stuff and a few items I have from my mom. I have a feeling that I will not be coming back here, so I want to be sure I have all the most important things packed. After I am done, I walk downstairs again to find dad. I find him in the kitchen talking on his phone, so I sit down and wait for him to finish. โ€œThatโ€™s great, thank you. We will see you all tomorrow, probably in the late afternoon.โ€ Dad says before hanging up. โ€œThat was your grandma. She canโ€™t wait to see you and Matt. Did you finish packing?โ€ He asks. โ€œYes, all packed and ready,โ€ I confirm. โ€œGreat. Then rest here at home today so you wonโ€™t be too tired to travel.โ€ He tells me, and I nod my head. I know that in those words was a hidden message. Donโ€™t go outside today. โ€œOkay, dad.โ€ I was so bored being here at home, so I wore my air pods and turned on my music app, and before I knew it, I was singing along. Dad didnโ€™t leave the house either, and Matt was also home. - LOGAN I was sitting in my office when someone knocked on my door. I told whomever it was to come in. The door opened, and my Beta Luca came inside the office. โ€œI talked with the Jones, they talked with their son-in-law, and he will try to get them here by tomorrow.โ€ He informed me. โ€œOkay, get a house ready. See, if not, there is one close by the Jones family.โ€ I tell him. โ€œWill do. I also informed the warriors doing patrols for the next few days, just to be on the safe side.โ€ โ€œThank you, thatโ€™s a good idea.โ€ This is why he is my Beta, he always thinks ahead, and I donโ€™t have to tell or remind him of things. And he is my best friend. We do a little small talking and talk about what to expect. A few days ago, I had a visit from Nina and Michael Jones, two highly respected members of my pack. They told me about how their Son-in-law had contacted them, asking for help. He told them that his pack Alpha was showing an unhealthy interest in his underage daughter, which worried him a lot, especially when his Alpha called him to the office. Offering him the role of being the pack head warrior if he would willingly give him his daughter to make his mate. The Alpha had lost his mate years ago, and now he had set his eyes on this young girl. Not only was she not eighteen, and she was a month away from her birthday. Not only is the Alpha in his 40s, but that is in no way acceptable to try to force someone to become their mate. So I told them they were all welcome here without thinking much about it. For some reason, my wolf was restless with this news. But his being restless is not something new. I donโ€™t let him out as often as I should. Because I know he frightens most of my pack members. While Luca and I were talking, the door opened again, and before I knew it, I had my little Rose jumping up to sit on my lap. She is three years old now and turning four in 10 days. โ€œHello, daddy.โ€ She says happily. โ€œHello, my little Rose. Are you ready for dinner?โ€ โ€œYes, daddy.โ€ We walk to the big dining room where pack members can choose to come and eat. After dinner, I took her up to my floor, and we spent time playing and later watching Beauty and the beast. Chapter 4 OLIVIA The day had been so boring, but because I didnโ€™t want to worry my dad, I had not left the house all day. โ€œMuffin, wake up.โ€ I opened my eyes, startled, and I saw my dad nudging me gently to wake up. โ€œDad? What time is it.โ€ โ€œ2:40, we have to go, Muffin. The car is packed. Get clothes on and come downstairs.โ€ He got up and left me to get dressed. I was confused. But I got up and dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie. I wanted to feel comfortable while we traveled. I could feel how Skye was feeling anxious and nervous, and that made me nervous because I had never felt emotions like these from her. Coming downstairs, it did slip my trained eyes that Matt packed some weapons in a bag. And as wolves, we never use actual weapons. We are a weapon ourselves. So it did not ease my frustration and nervousness to see him pack them. โ€œDad is in the car. Letโ€™s go.โ€ He tells me. We walk outside and see dad in the car but with the lights off. We get in Matt in the passenger seat, and I sit in the back. Dad slowly drives away from the house, and I get the feeling that I will never see it again. When we reach the border of our territory, two patrols step forward, together with another tall figure we first canโ€™t see who is. As we get closer, I see it is Carter, and dad rolls his window down a little. โ€œMr. Moore. Good to see you got here undetected.โ€ He greets dad, who nods at his words. โ€œThank you, Alpha. For everything.โ€ Dad says. โ€œI am not Alpha yet, so itโ€™s just Carter. I wish you safe travels and a future.โ€ โ€œThank you, Carter. Youโ€™re a good person.โ€ They shake hands, then dad starts driving again, and soon we are out of the territory, and dad turn on the lights on the car when we hit the main road. Four hours after we left the territory, dad held into a gas station at tank gas. When he was done and had come back inside the car, he turned to look at me. โ€œMuffin, I am going to ask you to do something very difficult, and it will make you feel weak for a while until we get to that pack,โ€ Dad says and looks at me. โ€œDo what, dad?โ€ I ask him. โ€œWe have to denounce our place as a pack member of the Dark Forest Pack. But it will just be until we get to the pack, then their Alpha will invite us into his Pack.โ€ โ€œBut why? You donโ€™t have to do that just to visit another Pack.โ€ I say, I know something is up, and I want to know. โ€œWe have to leave Dark Forest. Alpha is not in his right mind. And he is interested in you, Dad tells me, and I feel disgusting. โ€œBut he is so old. How can he think I would want to do that.โ€ I ask. โ€œHe doesnโ€™t care about that, Liv,โ€ Matt says, using my nickname. โ€œYour motherโ€™s parents talked to their Alpha, and he has offered us a place there. He is a young Alpha but very, very strong. We will be safe there, and you will be safe there.โ€ Dad says. โ€œOkay.โ€ โ€œWe will talk more when we are there, okay?โ€ Dad asks, and I nod my head. And then we all denounce our place as pack members of the Dark Forest. The first dad did it, then Matt, and then it was my turn. โ€œI, Olivia Moore, daughter of Klaus and Nora Moore, denounce my place as a pack member of the Dark Forest Pack and choose to become a rouge.โ€ It frustrates me so badly that I feel the pack link break and the feeling of belonging somewhere disappeared. I gasped in pain for just a second. โ€œI know it hurts, muffin, but itโ€™s for the best.โ€ Dad soothes me, and I nod my head. After it was over, Dad started driving again, and then the sounds of a phone rang. Matt looked at dadโ€™s phone. โ€œItโ€™s Alpha Colton.โ€ He tells Dad. And he let it ring out, but then his phone started ringing, and when it was left unanswered, mine announced an incoming call from a number I didnโ€™t know. โ€œDonโ€™t answer. Save your pictures and anything else important to the sky, then turn off your phone and throw it out the window so that they canโ€™t trace us.โ€ Dad says, and we do as he is told us. โ€œBut doesnโ€™t he know where we are going?โ€ I ask as I throw my phone out the window. โ€œNot entirely. I told him we were visiting some of your mother's family. And he knows she has two sisters that both moved to other packs when they found their mates. So it could be anywhere that we go too.โ€ Dad tells me. And I nod I realized that there must have been so much planning put into this. And I knew it was not an overreaction, I mean, I had noticed how Alpha Colton always seemed to put his eyes on me, and it always made me feel so uncomfortable. After another 3 hours of driving and one bathroom break, we left the main roads and came into an area with the most amazing forest I had ever seen. And on the horizon far back, I could see big mountains shoot up and a waterfall, I think. None of us said anything for a long time, and I just looked out of the window, rolling it down and taking in the fresh air. I gasped when I saw something huge move fast between the trees, and a scent of pinewood and caramel hit my nose, but before I could properly see it, it was gone. After a bit of time, dad stopped the car in the middle of nowhere, and just as I was about to ask why we stopped, four big men stepped out onto the road. Two of them were warriors, but the last two were even bigger, one being bigger than the other. The two warriors stayed where they were, but the smallest one of the two others began walking towards our car. Dad looked at us, told us to stay in the car, and then got out. They shook hands when he met the person in front of our car. They talked a little, and dad walked with him to meet the other person. I tried to get a good look at him, but it was like he avoided looking our way. And soon, dad returned to the car and smiled as he got in. โ€œThat was the Beta and the Alpha himself. We were out for a run when he sensed us. We will follow the Beta while the Alpha returns to the pack and waits for us.โ€ He says. โ€œHe is one big wolf, isnโ€™t he?โ€ Matt says. โ€œHe is, and I have never felt a power like the one coming from him, so be respectful.โ€ Dad answer and starts the car to follow the big wolf that the Beta shifted into. Chapter 5 LOGAN Oh, no! I had so much pent-up restless energy today, so when the morning training session was over, I decided to go for a run, informed my pack and patrols, and then ran. I had been running for a while when Titan began to slow down and become aware of our surroundings. โ€˜Someone is here.โ€™ His powerful voice tells me in my head. โ€˜It is probably the family we are waiting for to arrive.โ€™ I remind him. And he takes a turn towards the roads. And I mind linking Luca, telling him I think they have arrived. When we get closer, I catch the faint smell of something delicious, and the scent is getting closer. I see the car driving towards the pack nearly by the road, and the scent gets stronger. I can now say exactly that itโ€™s the scent of strawberries and chocolate, the two things I enjoy to ear more than anything. I can see three people in the car, and I freeze when I realize the scent got stronger because a window had gotten rolled down slightly, and the most beautiful girl I have ever seen is looking out. โ€˜What? Titan, get us out of here.โ€™ I say to Titan, and he reluctantly speeds up and runs ahead of the car. โ€˜That girl, she is our mate.โ€™ I hear Titan tell me, and I feel bad. โ€˜She canโ€™t be. She is not 18. And I will not be a loser and come claiming her like their old Alpha.โ€™ I tell him. โ€˜I am telling you she is our mate. I could even feel her wolf. And sometimes we can sense our mate even if the other is not of age.โ€™ He argues. Just what I need, and not what this girl needs. But if Titan is right, this girl is my second chance. โ€˜We canโ€™t tell her, Titan. We canโ€™t scare her like that. She is turning eighteen in a month or so. We will have to wait, you hear me.โ€™ There was no way I was going to scare her by claiming her now. โ€˜Titan, I mean it.โ€™ I say when he doesnโ€™t answer. โ€˜Okay. But we need to keep her safe.' He reluctantly agrees with me. โ€˜Of course, and we will.โ€™ I mind linking Luca again, asking him to come to meet him and welcome them. Longer up the road, I know that the father, who is a warrior, must have sensed us because he stopped the car and then he just waited. I already like that person. What he is doing is a clear signal of respect and shows us they do not want any trouble. We step out on the road together with two warriors, and a person steps out of the car. I try to keep my attention on the person, but it is hard when I can smell her being so close. I watch Luca go and greet him before they both come back to me. โ€œAlpha, thank you for letting us come here.โ€ The person says as he bows his head. I could feel that here before. I am a very strong and proud wolf. โ€œMr. Moore, Welcome to our pack. I am happy I can help.โ€ I tell him. โ€œIt means more than I can explain. And please call me Klaus.โ€ He says. โ€œVery well, is it your children in the car?โ€ I ask. โ€œYes, Alpha, it is my son Matt and my daughter Olivia.โ€ I have to stop myself from not starting to smile when I hear her name. โ€œWe have a house ready, but before going there, I would like you all to come to my office so that we can make you all pack members. It is safer to get it over with so no one mistake you for being a rouge.โ€ I tell him, without saying it is the first step to make sure Olivia is safe. โ€œYes, Alpha, as you wish.โ€ He says and bows his head again. โ€œLuca will show you there. I will run ahead and wait.โ€ I tell them, and with that, I go back to the forest and shifts to run home. - OLIVIA We drove behind the Beta in his wolf form, and before we knew it, we stopped in front of a huge house that could only be the packhouse. The Beta went to some trees and bushes next to the house and came back dressed in a pair of sweatpants, motioning for us to get out of the car. We all got out, and I noticed the scent I had smelled got stronger. If it always smells like this here, I wonโ€™t mind being here because it smells amazing. โ€œHello, welcome to our pack. My name is Luca, and I am the Beta here.โ€ The Beta tells Matt and me as he already had talked with dad. โ€œHello, Beta.โ€ We both greet him respectfully. โ€œJust call me Luca.โ€ We both nodded. โ€œIt is nice to meet you,โ€ I said, and he smiled. โ€œAs you probably can figure out, this is the packhouse. The packhouse has three floors. The ground floor and first floor are open to any pack member, and the top floor is only accessible when permitted by the Alpha. The ground floor has a kitchen, dining room, ballroom, Alphaโ€™s office, and several rooms for various activities for the packs' kids and young ones. The next floor is bedrooms, all with their bathrooms, pack members especially the teens like to come to stay here. And it is also where quests visiting for official reasons stay.โ€ Beta Luca tells us as we enter the house. When we enter, we can hear how busy the house is. And as we looked around, I was drawn to a room where the sound of someone singing caught my attention. Looking into the room, I see a bunch of teens my age having fun with the different games and karaoke machine that is in there. I feel Matt, my dad, and the Beta come up behind me. โ€œThis looks great,โ€ Matt says. โ€œYes, and it keeps them from going into the human town too much. We also have a hangout with a cafรฉ. Gyms and so on.โ€ โ€œUm.โ€ A sound came from behind us, and without turning around, it was like my entire body knew that the Alpha was standing right behind us. โ€œAlpha, I was giving a quick tour. We were on our way to your office.โ€ Beta Luca said, smiling. Turning around, my eyes fell on the most handsome person I had ever seen. He has dark brown hair and is muscular with an eight-pack, which I can see because he is still not wearing a shirt. But it is his hypnotizing forest green eyes that I canโ€™t move my eyes away from. I realized I was staring at an Alpha right in his eyes and gasped as I hurried to bow my head. โ€œAlpha, I am sorry,โ€ I whispered. A burst of deep laughter reached my ears, making me shiver deliciously. โ€œYou do not have to apologize. I am not so formal. Now, let us all go into my office.โ€ He says and smiles. LEARN_MORE https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18211&u Galaxy in the Story https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/ 2,500 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 wwwedb.com VIDEO https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18211&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/t39.35426-6/476612998_643952864754059_5035831767666081962_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=j95vdUROcKgQ7kNvgGqGfW-&_nc_oc=AdiSqs5jGOPNd7eNH4QbL_fXM7ISKz8dQg05ecsXL06aZGNLVzqXkP3xD8bVdqhWB5Dd2Me2Jxx4nW_lHdjRSLU0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AlaVudeFc2pQAcP7UWcHrH2&oh=00_AYCCxd3tFOhuyFwLmBhS5LUBJ_gn7TRAfzUFrF8UDN1zXw&oe=67CC0C12 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Galaxy in the Story 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2025-03-03 19:09 active 2791 0 Overcome Procrastination Naturally Overcoming procrastination doesnโ€™t have to be hard! Created by a team of psychologists and behavioral change experts, Brainway is designed to: 1๏ธโƒฃ Identify your unique โ€œProcrastination Typeโ€ 2๏ธโƒฃ Reveal the unique โ€œTrigger Pointโ€ that makes you procrastinate 3๏ธโƒฃ Provide personalized, simple, and effective strategies to help you stop putting things off ๐Ÿ† And let you join thousands of people enjoying 100% stress-free productivity with Brainway! ๐Ÿ”ฅ Take a short quiz and see how Brainway can help you break free from procrastination & embrace your natural productivity today!๐Ÿ‘‡ LEARN_MORE https://brainway.app/start?qz=pro1&locale=EN_US Brainway App https://www.facebook.com/61551442591062/ 23,451 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 brainway.app VIDEO https://brainway.app/start?qz=pro1&locale=EN_US 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465654681_862973182694963_4384437846678066828_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=eg9vApw2J1EQ7kNvgFojS2v&_nc_oc=Adg7gjrzhX85L3-k8aEWuI8HhVY9RkpnDfckvatQCYZtjvdpO9SbM2rq7y5bndMpAdL-O8wWyUi16fY076SNLx_5&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AGua_hY8R1VIJMRW-AALcMY&oh=00_AYC3acRsHY_B4To9Pxh12Wsien_nO-Z9NZIIygZjPM59yg&oe=67CC1093 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Brainway App 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2025-03-03 19:09 active 2791 0 Overcome Procrastination Naturally Overcoming procrastination doesnโ€™t have to be hard! Created by a team of psychologists and behavioral change experts, Brainway is designed to: 1๏ธโƒฃ Identify your unique โ€œProcrastination Typeโ€ 2๏ธโƒฃ Reveal the unique โ€œTrigger Pointโ€ that makes you procrastinate 3๏ธโƒฃ Provide personalized, simple, and effective strategies to help you stop putting things off ๐Ÿ† And let you join thousands of people enjoying 100% stress-free productivity with Brainway! ๐Ÿ”ฅ Take a short quiz and see how Brainway can help you break free from procrastination & embrace your natural productivity today!๐Ÿ‘‡ LEARN_MORE https://brainway.app/start?qz=pro1&locale=EN_US Brainway App https://www.facebook.com/61551442591062/ 23,451 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 brainway.app VIDEO https://brainway.app/start?qz=pro1&locale=EN_US 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468996094_1644239329492423_6848725030488478162_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=J-WPQlSOkXIQ7kNvgEniQ5-&_nc_oc=AdiEaqmNVzy3s6F-PxNWTpnQpb62irjQGBqmJgI5VWMemcmvb47AchijbcMi-FjNr-2KqGmTx2GXJnH5UEfQ7Zgf&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AGua_hY8R1VIJMRW-AALcMY&oh=00_AYC1gt0vwArtKNFq-J3xFkRZiV2H2LuoIYJl8W199ak2PQ&oe=67CC19BC PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Brainway App 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2025-03-03 19:10 active 2791 0 ๐Ÿ˜Read the next chapters๐Ÿ‘‰ [Mrs. Gardner, are you sure you want to hire our team to stage a fire and fake your death in ten days?] Camellia Shaw paused for a moment. Just as she was about to reply to the message, a video call suddenly popped up. "Camellia, look! Andres is spending a fortune on you again!" The video was of an auction in progress. At the front, a man of striking elegance and charm was decisively bidding on several antique collectibles worth hundreds of millions. The crowd was already abuzz with excitement. "Mr. Gardner is so good to his wife! He bought all these antiques just to make her smile!" "$400 million is nothing! I heard Mr. Gardner even built her a private estate and named it Eterna Haven. Just the name alone is proof of how much he loves her." A wealthy businessman nearby sneered. "It's all for show. Who knows what he's really like behind closed doors?" That comment immediately sparked a wave of backlash. Many argued back, talking about how devoted Andres Gardner was to his wife. "If anyone in our circle could make me believe in love, it would be those two." "Mr. Gardner had risen to fame as a genius young painter, but it was his masterpiece, 'Beyond the Ordinary,' that made him a household name. "He once said his wife was his muse and source of inspiration. You can see his affection for her in every stroke and in every shadow of his paintings." As she listened to their murmurs, Camellia forced a bitter smile. She and Andres had entered an arranged marriage to merge their powerful families, meeting for the first time at the county clerk's office. Her family had never given her much love, so she assumed her marriage would be just as emotionless. However, Andres unexpectedly showered her with a special kind of affection. He remembered her peanut allergy and lactose intolerance, and he always prepared exquisite, expensive gifts for her birthday. Her heart softened over time. She even took him to visit her late mother's grave. Andres had solemnly vowed in front of the gravestone, "Mom, I swear that if I ever betray Cam, may I lose the one I love the most." Camellia laughed bitterly to herself. When did things start to change? Perhaps it was when she learned about his first love, who had passed away long ago, and found out he had taken in her younger sister to care for her. Maybe it was the day Valentina Dawson returned from abroad, throwing herself into his arms with a familiar intimacy he did not even try to refuse. Perhaps it was the faint lipstick stains on his shirt and the barely visible bite marks on his collarbone... That was when Camellia could no longer lie to herself. "Mr. Gardner, can you tell us if these are birthday gifts for Mrs. Gardner?" The question from the video snapped her back to the present. Andres' clear and steady voice rang out from the phone, "No, these are just small trinkets. I've prepared something far better for her birthday." This response drew envious gasps from the wealthy socialites watching. As Camellia prepared to end the call, she caught fragments of teasing voices in the background. "Andres, are you really planning to throw a grand wedding for Camellia in ten days?" "Of course. Anything to do with Camellia is a top priority. Make sure it's perfect!" "Understood. Soโ€ฆ should we invite her to Val's celebration tomorrow night?" "No need. Don't let her find out." After that, Camellia could not hear anything else that Andres said. She hung up the call, staring at the message asking for her final decision. Slowly but firmly, she typed out her reply. [I'm sure.] Chapter 2 Not long after, Andres rushed home, looking travel-worn. Camellia wobbled slightly when she stood upโ€”perhaps because she had not eaten all dayโ€”but Andres firmly caught her. "You didn't eat properly again today, did you?" he asked, his eyes full of concern as he gently scooped her into his arms. As they drew close, the sweet, cloying scent of fruit filled the air. Camellia never used perfume, so it was obvious who the scent belonged to. "What are you thinking, baby?" Andres teased while tapping her nose affectionately. Camellia's sharp eyes caught a faint red lipstick stain on his finger. On the second day of their marriage, Andres had secretly tattooed a camellia on his ring finger. He had told her that the ring finger had a blood vessel that led directly to the heart. This was a symbol of their shared bond and how she would always be connected to his heart, but that spot now bore a mark that did not belong to her. A dull pain rose in her chest. It was heavy and piercing, like a sharp blade chiseling away bit by bit. "Are you starving yourself so much you've lost your braincells?" Andres joked, kissing her forehead lightly before asking Eva Longford to serve the food that had been kept warm for dinner. Andres used to cook for her himself every day. However, some time into their marriage, his work grew busier, and the task naturally passed to the housekeeper. "Let me join you for dinner, okay? Skipping meals can really mess up your stomach," he said while carefully setting her down on a dining chair and placing the utensils by her hand. Then, he washed his hands and began peeling apples for her. "Okay," Camellia murmured, swallowing the bitterness in her heart and eating the food he placed on her plate in small bites. They had not been eating for long when Andres' phone began ringing incessantly. He glanced at the caller ID and frowned slightly before wiping his hands and stepping aside to take the call. When he returned, his expression was frantic. "Cam, something came up at the studio. I have to go handle it. Don't wait up for me tonight. You should go to bed early." He grabbed the antiques he had bought earlier. He promised to get her something even better another day and left in a rush. Once the meal was completely cold, Camellia finally stood up and went upstairs. As soon as she lay down, she scrolled through Valentina's latest post on social media. [I only had a low fever, but my boyfriend insisted on taking care of me. He even made me a table full of delicious food. Do you know how special a meal made for you by a loved one is?] The accompanying picture showed a close-up of a man in an apron cutting vegetables. As a rising name in the art world, Valentina had tens of thousands of followers on her account. The post caused a stir among her fans. [So this is the senior of hers with a nine-figure insurance policy on his right hand that Val mentioned!] [Where can I find a man like this? Can the government issue one to everyone, please?] Camellia stared at the hands in the photo and thought of Andres' promises. Her heart felt like it was being torn apart, leaving it shattered and unrecognizable. [That's nothing! Our Mr. Gardner is the gold standard for a devoted husband!] Someone had uploaded a video of the auction from earlier that day, and the buzz quickly overtook Valentina's post. [Damn, he really spoils his wife! $400 million! That's enough to buy my entire life hundreds of times over!] [Oh my God! Has anyone not been overwhelmed by Mr. Gardner's love for his wife yet? When his wife had a car accident and was scared, he risked his life to make sure he was the first person she saw when she woke up!] [Mr. Gardner is like a saint in our elite circle. He still wears the rosary beads Camellia gave him, perfectly polished from years of use. He never takes them off!] Valentina's fans went quiet under the video. Compared to Andres' public displays of devotion, a single meal could not measure up. However, a newly-registered user suddenly posted three photos. One showed the transfer of ownership for an Aurelia winery, another depicted a necklace worth $200 million called โ€˜The Heart of the Oceanโ€™, and the last featured Valentina holding car keys while sitting on the hood of a Ferrari. The user captioned it: [If someone else has it, our Val can't be without it.] Fans exploded in praise, calling her senior powerful and declaring him on par with Andres. Just then, a text message from an unsaved number came through to Camellia's phone. "You absolutely can't miss the celebration my senior is throwing for me tomorrow night!" Though she did not say anything, Camellia could almost hear Valentina's smugness. The message ended with the address of the venue. 742, Ocean Middle Road, Camellia Street. It was the restaurant where Camellia and Andres had their first meal together. He had promised her it would always remain closed to the public, so it would belong only to the two of them. Camellia stared at the address until her eyes stung. Her hand slipped, and the phone dropped onto her face. The sharp pain from the impact pushed her over the edge, and the tears she had been holding back spilled silently into the darkness. Chapter 3 Andres did not return home all night. Camellia ended up sitting alone in the empty living room, waiting from early morning until noon. Her phone buzzed with a social media notification. [Renowned artist Andres Gardner stands in support of his junior. What a deep camaraderie between peers!] Camellia let out a bitter laugh. Of course he did. She stopped waiting and went alone to visit her mother's grave. She bought a bouquet of lisianthus on her way over. At the cemetery, she carefully cleaned her mother's tombstone, placed the flowers in front of it, and leaned gently against the stone. It was as if she was trying to feel the warmth of her mother's embrace. Andres returned home late at night. Just as he was about to ask why Camellia had not gone to bed yet, he noticed a bundle of lisianthus peeking out of her bag. It suddenly hit him that today was her mother's death anniversary. Panic flashed across his face. "Baby, I'm so sorry. I've been so busy today that I completely forgot. It's all my fault," he stammered, cupping her face and instinctively stroking the beauty mark at the corner of her eye. Camellia noticed the faint trace of a lipstick mark on his hairline just behind his ear. She gently pushed him away, her voice calm as she said, "It's fine." Trying to ease the tension, Andres suggested, "How about we have an artist paint a portrait of us tomorrow? Once it's done, we can take a photo with it and place it at your mother's grave to give her peace of mind." Camellia wanted to refuse, but Andres was insistent, so she reluctantly agreed. The next morning at ten, the artist he had arranged for arrived. "Nice to meet you, Cam. I'm Valentina Dawson, Andres'โ€ฆ junior." Seeing Valentina, Andres' face betrayed a flicker of unease. Clearly, she was not the artist he had called. "Mr. Wilson had something come up, so I'm filling in for him," Valentina explained, her gaze sweeping over Camellia with a faint, inscrutable smile. "Has anyone ever told you that you look a lot like my sister, Cam?" she asked. "My sister had a beauty mark in the exact same spot as yours. The only difference is that hers was real, while yoursโ€ฆ is drawn on." The room fell silent. Andres' expression darkened as he snapped, "Val, that's enough. "No one is more important to me than Camellia," he said firmly. Valentina blinked in surprise, then playfully stuck out her tongue at him. "Alright. I was just joking." She hooked one arm around Camellia's and led her toward the studio. With her other hand, she reached behind, tracing lazy circles on Andres' palm. Her gaze was sultry and inviting. "Andres, you're standing all wrong," she complained moments after starting the painting. Setting her brush down, she stood up and walked over to him. She caressed his face with one hand while the other trailed down his chest. Her fingers brushed over his Adam's apple, then came to rest on his shoulder. Leaning in close, she breathed warm air into his ear. "Why so tense, Andres?" His eyes darkened instantly. Camellia caught a glimpse of their interaction from the corner of her eye. Pain stabbed through her chest, and she forced herself to look away. Barely a few minutes later, Valentina suggested that Camellia's pose was not intimate enough. "Let me show you how it's done, Cam," she said with a sly smile. She pushed Camellia aside and tugged Andres forward by his tie. Her full figure pressed against his chest as her thumb brushed deliberately over the corner of his lips. Finally, she left a bold kiss on his mouth. Turning to Camellia, she tilted her head with a brazen expression. "Do you get it now, Cam?" When he saw Camellia's reaction, Andres quickly explained, "In the art world, we're a bit moreโ€ฆ uninhibited." Camellia said nothing, merely clenching her trembling hands to keep herself composed. She excused herself to the bathroom, needing to escape. When she returned, muffled sounds from inside the room made her stop in her tracks. "Andres, noโ€ฆ You're going to ruin me," a woman's voice purred breathlessly. As she peeked inside, Camellia saw Valentina with one leg wrapped around Andres' lean waist. Her back was pressed against the windowsill, and she was moving in rhythm with him. Andres' eyes burned with passion as he kissed her fiercely. "You came all the way to my house! Wasn't this what you wanted?" he growled. Chapter 4 Camellia collapsed at the doorway of the studio, tears streaming down her face. She thought she was strong enough to endure anything, but witnessing this scene shattered her heart. She did not know how much time passed before she heard the rustling sound of clothes being put on from inside the room. Andres came to the bathroom looking for her and froze when he saw her red, swollen eyes. "Baby, why are you crying?" he asked. Camellia shook her head. "It's nothing. I accidentally got soap in my eyes." He let out a sigh of relief and playfully pinched her cheek. "You're still such a little troublemaker," he teased. When the painting was nearly finished, Andres was called away by his agent. With him gone, Valentina dropped the act entirely. "I know you saw it, Cam. Well, what can you do about it? Andres seems to love me more than you." She unbuttoned her shirt, revealing bruises on her skin. "When's the last time you were with him? Was it as passionate as just now? Can you even satisfy him?" Valentina stepped closer, her gaze condescending. She seemed to relish the idea of seeing Camellia break down, and she looked was expecting pain or hysteria. However, Camellia's expression remained calm and even unreadable. Underneath, her heart was shattered into countless pieces, leaving her barely able to breathe. After Valentina left, Camellia wandered aimlessly back to the studio. She suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to look at the paintings. Without turning on the light, she stumbled up to the third floor. She ended up twisting her ankle in the dark. Even so, the sharp pain from her ankle was nothing compared to the ache in her heart. Every painting that was celebrated by the public as symbols of her and Andreโ€™s โ€˜perfect loveโ€™ now stared back at her. Each prominently featured the beauty mark that now felt like a mocking lie. Camellia pulled a craft knife from the penholder and slashed through the beauty marks in each painting one by one. With every cut, she severed another piece of the beautiful memories she once shared with Andres. When Andres returned home, Camellia had already freshened up and was lying in bed, ready to sleep. He barged into the bedroom, carrying a keyboard from his study in one hand and takeout from her favorite restaurant in the other. Without hesitation, he dropped the keyboard onto the floor, knelt on it, and faced her. "Honey, I know what happened today upset you. I've already reprimanded Val," he said earnestly. "I only think of her as a younger sister. She's still immature and doesn't know any better. As for her sisterโ€ฆ That ended a long time ago. Besides, she's not even here anymore. "If you don't like it, I swear I won't see her again. But no matter how angry you are, please don't ruin your health by skipping mealsโ€ฆ" The man who had been utterly consumed with Valentina earlier that day was now kneeling humbly before her, his tone desperate and full of affection. It was as if he could not live without her. For a moment, Camellia could not tell which version of Andres was real. If he loved her so much, how could he forget the vows he once made? If he loved her so much, why did he betray her? As Andres passed a dish toward her, he accidentally creased a page in the book lying on the bedside table. Camellia glanced over, and he casually smoothed it out and closed the book. "I fixed it. Now, eat," he said with a smile. The familiar aroma of the dish wafted from the bowl. Camellia took a few bites before saying, "But once a page is creased, it can never be perfectly smooth again." Andres, who was already sensitive about the day, tensed at her words. He knew it carried a deeper meaning. "Then I'll buy a new book. It'll be as good as new," he said, his bright eyes fixed on her. It was like his entire world revolved around her. "I'd pluck the stars from the sky for you if you asked." Camellia stayed silent, swallowing the words she wanted to say. Even if he had bought a new one, it would only be a replacementโ€”it would no longer be the same book. She understood this truth, and he should have understood it even more. The two spent the night in silence. Over the next few days, perhaps out of guilt, Andres canceled all his work and stayed glued to Camellia's side. One day, he accompanied her to restore artifacts, buying a few antique treasures worth millions. The next day, he took her shopping and bought her an entire collection of the season's limited-edition items. The day after, he somehow got his hands on a pink Rolls-Royce Cullinan, parking it dramatically at the entrance of Eterna Haven in the city center as a grand gesture of love. This display led to a wave of online ridicule, with netizens mocking Andres' for being wrapped around his wifeโ€™s finger. Andres posted a self-deprecating tweet with a picture of himself kneeling on a keyboard. [I made my wife mad. How do I fix this if nothing works?] Only then did people realize Andres' predicament, with many pleading for Camellia to forgive him. With two days left until Camellia's birthday, she still had things to take care of. Seeing Andres' desperate efforts, she decided to go along with it and let the matter drop. Andres was overjoyed, lifting her in his arms and spinning her around several times. "Baby, I love you more than anything in this life! Youโ€™re my only love!" On the way to dinner, Andres received several phone calls. The number flashing on the screen was one Camellia knew wellโ€”Valentina's. He declined the calls four times before finally receiving a message. When he opened it, a single glance made his expression falter. "Baby, my agent says there's an issue with the new painting contract. I need to handle it right away," Andres said apologetically. Camellia did not call out his lie and let him leave. She then bought a baseball cap and mask from a roadside shop and hailed a car to follow him. She trailed him into a mall and all the way to her once-favorite bridal boutique. The dressing room curtain opened, and there stood Valentina, radiant in the wedding dress Camellia had loved most. "Do I look beautiful, Andres?" Valentina asked. She reached out, her hand sliding from Andres' shoulder, tracing his Adam's apple, and stopping just shy of his lips in a teasing caress. Andres' eyes darkened. He cupped her face and kissed her deeply. Both of them were breathless by the time they pulled apart. Valentina curled into Andres' chest, tracing lazy circles on it with her finger. "Andres, if Cam finds out I wore this dress first, she'll probably lose it," she murmured. Andres' breathing grew heavier as he pulled her into the dressing room and drew the curtain shut. "She won't know. I owe you a wedding, and it's my fault you've been wronged," he replied. "Today, you're my most beautiful bride." With those words, the sound of running water filled the dressing room, accompanied by intimate whispers. Chapter 5 Camellia stood in a distant corner, watching through the gap in the dressing room curtains as Valentina and Andresโ€™ entwined figures moved. Her heart twisted in unbearable pain. Her stomach churned violently, and she could not suppress the urge to dry heave. Her entire body was now convulsing uncontrollably. Tears streamed down her face, draining all her strength. She collapsed onto the floor, feeling utterly spent. As she turned to leave, she did not get to see the satisfied smile on Valentina's face inside the dressing room. Back home, the oppressive silence was suffocating. Camellia turned on the television, flipping to a random channel. It was broadcasting a segment on Andres' latest art exhibition. The painting featured a girl in a bright yellow dress running freely through a field. The commentators remarked on how drastically different this piece was from Andres' earlier works. It no longer exuded a soft, reserved gentleness but instead brimmed with vitality and energy. Though the girl's face was not visible, her back displayed the painter's tenderness and love for her. One critic observed sharply, "Even the strands of her flying hair are perfect, like the wind itself favors her." Online, viewers joked about Andres' newfound spark, saying his marriage with Camellia must have entered a second spring. Only Camellia knew the truth. That was not her. It was Valentina, or perhaps it was Nelina Dawson, the woman from his dreams. Taking a deep breath, she tried to suppress the ache in her chest and called her best friend, Penelope Hall. While waiting for Penelope's arrival, Camellia began sorting through the gifts Andres had given her over the years. In the first year of their marriage, he noticed her concerns and gave her a diamond bangle. "I've locked you in for this lifetime. You belong to me now, so don't even think about leaving," he had said. In their second year, he noticed how much she missed her mother and folded her a jar of wishing stars. "When you miss your mom, open one. No matter where I am or what time it is, I'll come back to make your wish come true. This life might be long, but I'll always be here with you." Camellia began unwrapping the stars one by one. [Plant a little tree.] [Adopt a corgi.] [Grow old together.] โ€ฆ She picked up her phone, snapped a picture of one of the stars, and sent it to Andres. Her phone screen remained dark. There was no response from him. Half an hour later, a package arrived. It was the painting Valentina had made for them that day. However, instead of depicting the two of them sitting side by side, the image showed two entangled figures of Andres and Valentina in bed. Something cold slid down Camellia's cheek. She raised her hand to wipe it away and realized her face was already soaked with tears. In a daze, she placed the painting with all of Andres' other works in the studio. Then, she gathered every gift he had ever given her into a box, carried it into the yard, and set it ablaze. Later, Penelope would recall the moment she saw Camellia that day. She felt as if Camellia was on the verge of breaking into pieces. Penelope walked over and held her close without saying a word, letting Camellia lean on her silently. After a long while, once Camellia calmed down, she made another request. "Help me arrange a funeral. But Andres must not attend it. Only then, reveal the truth about my 'death' to him." Camellia handed Penelope an envelope containing evidence of Valentina's relentless provocations over the past few months. Penelope glanced through it and nodded firmly while suppressing her anger. Once everything was set, it was already late at night. That day, Andres quietly slipped into the house at 2 a.m. Seeing Camellia still awake did not surprise him. He approached her like a child with a prize, his eyes brimming with excitement. "I knew you'd still be up. I was too busy earlier to check my messages, but lookโ€”I'm here to make your wish come true!" He moved the small tea table by the window to the bed, fetched two bowls, and divided the seafood boil he had brought home into portions. The wish on the paper star Camellia had sent to Andres earlier in the day was to eat her favorite food with him. For some reason, Camellia's mind wandered back to the first time they went to that seafood restaurant together. It might have been Andres' first time eating at a small roadside restaurant. Before eating, he had wiped the oily table repeatedly with napkins and was clearly uncomfortable. However, he smiled at her with mock innocence when she looked his way, almost playfully. "Cam, feed me," he had said. "I'll try anything if it makes you happy." "Andres." Camellia fixed her gaze on his face. "If you could do it all over again, would you still choose this?" Andres did not think much of her question and assumed she was feeling insecure again. He gently stroked her dark hair and answered with certainty. "I would. I'd make the same choices every time. "I'd love you, spoil you, and stay devoted to you for the rest of my life." Chapter 6 The following day, Andres did not leave the house early like he usually did. He squeezed toothpaste onto Camellia's toothbrush and stood by, watching as she finished washing her face. "It's extremely windy today. We can't let it ruin my baby's delicate little face," he said with playful affection. Then, he told her he had a big surprise planned for the next day with an air of mystery. Before he could finish explaining, Cohen Palmer called a few times, saying there was an issue he could not resolve and needed Andres to come immediately. Andres gave Camellia an apologetic glance, and when she reassured him that she understood, he left. Once he was gone, Camellia contacted the team she had hired to confirm every detail for the next day. Then, she drove to Eterna Haven. She had not visited in several days, and everything felt unfamiliar. She called the Saltsburg Museum, and the curator arrived in person an hour later. "Cam, are you sure you want to donate all of this to the country for free?" The curator, Felix Cross, was a fellow apprentice of her mentor. Camellia nodded without hesitation. "You can tell me if you're facing any difficulties. Don't try to handle it all on your own," he said with concern. Camellia remained silent, her gaze fixed on the goddess statue in the center of the room. With its head bowed and its elegant, serene posture, the statue seemed to smile compassionately. Covered in moss and denied the light of day, it exuded a quiet sorrow toward the world. Camellia was leaving, but these artifacts should not be buried with her. "It's nothing, Felix. Don't worry about me," she said softly. Seeing her unwillingness to elaborate, Felix did not press further. After instructing his assistants to carefully transport the artifacts, he patted her shoulder before leaving. "Take care of yourself," he said as he departed. Once again, she was alone. The once vibrant Eterna Haven now felt hollow and empty. Her phone buzzed with a notification. It was about Valentina's online book signing event for her new illustration collection. The clickbaity title read: [The Beautiful Artist Who Once Had a Miscarriage for Love.] Camellia's fingers moved almost involuntarily to click on the link. The video cut to Valentina showing a scar on her abdomen. "Back then, he said I was too young, and the pregnancy was on the risky side. Out of concern for me, he stayed by my side for the procedure," Valentina said with a blissful expression. "It must have been about three years ago when he went to Faren to further his studiesโ€ฆ "He even picked out a name for our lost babyโ€”Cale. He said he hoped she'd return to us one day and live a life full of brilliance and lightโ€ฆ" Camellia's phone slipped from her grasp, crashing to the floor. The screen shattered, forming a spider web of cracks. Cale? That was the nickname Andres had given their child after their first night together. He had held her tenderly afterward, murmuring the name as if it were a promise. Him and Valentinaโ€ฆ had a childโ€ฆ Not to mention that it was three years ago. It had not just been going on for the past three months. Andres had lied to her for three entire years. Suddenly, Valentina was pulled into the frame as someone's arm draped around her shoulders. The sound of kissing filled the audio feed. When she reappeared on screen, her lips were swollen, and her cheeks were flushed pink. She giggled, saying her boyfriend was jealous and insisted they should โ€˜work harderโ€™ to bring Cale back soon. Her fans erupted in excitement, flooding the chat with playful teasing, though their blessings were genuine. The illustration book sold well, as though it was part of their celebratory gift. Camellia did not know when the signing event ended. The last rays of sunlight disappeared from the room, leaving behind a suffocating darkness. It felt like a giant beast was ready to devour her. She simply sat motionless in her chair with the lights off. Suddenly, her phone screen lit up and became blindingly bright. It was a video message from Valentina, accompanied by a single line. "I told you I'd have you under my feet one day." The video showed two intertwined, bare legs. Camellia was about to delete it when something caught her eyeโ€”the rosary beads she had once given Andres. She had it blessed for him, but now they were wrapped around Valentina's ankle. The beads that were slightly large for her looped around her ankle twice. The excess length dangled, with a few beads pressed under Valentina's toe. "They're just rosary beads. If you want them, they're yours," Andres' voice in the video sounded indifferent and dismissive. Camellia's mind flashed back to the day Andres received the beads. "Cam, I'll always keep these with me, even in death," he had promised. The color drained from Camellia's face. She wanted to cry and let out all the pain, but no tears came. The light in her eyes had faded completely. Late at night, as the world slept, no one noticed when Eterna Haven went up in roaring flames. Andres was up early the next morning, preparing for the day. He had just arrived at Quaint Hotel and finished tidying up when Cohen burst in, pale and clutching at his phone. "Andres! Something terrible has happened!" Before Cohen could continue, Andres' phone rang. He held up a finger to silence him and answered the call. As he listened, his gaze shifted to Cohen's phone, where an image stopped him cold. The once-familiar pink Cullinan was now charred black, surrounded by the smoldering remains of Eterna Haven. Smoke billowed from the scene, and a stretcher held a body covered by a white sheet nearby. The voice on the phone interrupted his thoughts. "Hello, is this Mr. Andres Gardner? This is the Saltsburg Police Department. We regret to inform you of a tragic incident. "The property under your wife's name, Eterna Haven, caught fire last night. Unfortunately, your wife did not survive. Our condolences." LEARN_MORE https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 Random Reading https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ 375 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 www.qknymufd.com VIDEO https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18306&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/t39.35426-6/478062090_1130165615037921_6376329351151350768_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=3OCD6KV8Sz8Q7kNvgEcBh08&_nc_oc=AdhDhuj3l2MdlDK6f2FoF-LOanPUmULbaY7J2z_bnnkzD69lx1bVLGqZzmnuTVSEpK1A6wQ0CjEPjK0nK2kNKqsZ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A6ntQ6xF2ZKxlX-DDGX1Ld-&oh=00_AYC9b8KTfRUK7UZFM2TfF9kIikYFJi_BzyAVNZC8rhPf5w&oe=67CC2EB8 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Random Reading 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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