Confucius Ads Library: Ads

Ads for Sweeps on 2025-03-03

Id	Vlad	Saved	Scrape Time	Status	Scrape Result	Title	Body	Cta Type	Link Url	Page Name	Page Profile Uri	Page Like Count	Enddate	Cta Text	Caption	Display Format	Link Description	Link Url	Creation Time	Page Profile Picture Url	Page Entity Type	Page Is Profile Page	Current Page Name	Startdate	Actions
2,766,347	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2766282}'	Yes	2025-03-03 18:29	active	2789	$1 = 75 Entries \| Launch Week Only🚀🔥	🔥 IT’S LAUNCH WEEK—FSD17 IS OFFICIALLY LIVE! 🔥 And this ain’t just a truck—it’s a full-blown, pavement-ripping F350 Platinum on Full Air Ride that’s ready to raise hell. 😳💨 🔥Full Loaded Platinum F350 🔥Heated & Cooled Seats 🔥Massaging Seats 🔥Remote Start 🔥Sunroof 🔥Full Air Ride kit front & rear 🔥Gooseneck Ball 🔥Full Color Match Launch week means one of the HIGHEST ENTRY MULTIPLIERS of the entire giveaway! For every $1 you spend, you’re getting 75 ENTRIES! 🚀 And don’t worry about taxes—we’re throwing in enough cash to cover ‘em. 💰 ⏳ But this giveaway only runs for 4 WEEKS. Once it’s gone, it’s gone. Launch week is one of the BEST times to enter—so if you want to be the one holding the keys, get your entries in NOW!	SHOP_NOW	http://fsdsupply.com/	Full Send Diesel	https://www.facebook.com/FullSendDiesel/	60,718	1969-12-31 18:00	Shop Now	fsdsupply.com	DCO	🚨 YOU can win this F350 Platinum —Launch Week with 75x Multiplier, Get Entered Now!	http://fsdsupply.com/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481199432_2093427337796702_5656811533190364114_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=UpfSpAK9bvsQ7kNvgH8ariE&_nc_oc=Adgqd3Ri9b0tZFzVk7y_jsq5fTEZUotYIuZwl5w4kcbtkRhrrU9CZqHHHabq78XzOCYm85KV2ngC08K-wcZwpS5Y&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Arl4ADDRGEfpjw4QI2CrIBj&oh=00_AYCibXNXECS_JFYwDXYYa-Az_uZb3YWaWZcpBv4yC8pjwQ&oe=67CC1D49	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Full Send Diesel	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,767,677	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 18:57	active	2790		Authentic Hermès bags with no waiting or waitlists Kelly 28 \| New White \| TC \| GHW With love, Love My Hermes 📲 Consultation in DM or WhatsApp	VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	http://instagram.com/hermes.orginal1	hermes.orginal1	https://www.instagram.com/_u/hermes.orginal1	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram profile	instagram.com	VIDEO		http://instagram.com/hermes.orginal1	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-19/476301515_9648914558475977_1644622212415071580_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s206x206_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=525117&_nc_ohc=a2HuL_2YQc0Q7kNvgHXOrS9&_nc_oc=AdiiauklJ_ZFcfmGXKjlKwJbhq4YFmk8F0nE8-1BxrXlLjrdyN5RFjd-x08zCwnNoRRXHVKgIjnLOP394OCv6Kg5&_nc_zt=24&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.cdninstagram.com&oh=00_AYDJG1JFT2lITraog_7izOwS_PliDqeXXIt3B4XNVY7PGQ&oe=67CC2D8F	IG_ADS_IDENTITY	1	hermes.orginal1	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,765,759	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2765614}'	No	2025-03-03 18:27	active	2789	Which AT4.0 Street Helmet Will You Choose? Enter to Win!	Enter now for a chance to win a brand-new AT4.0 Street helmet of your choice, including the vibrant and fearless La Catrina. Inspired by the Day of the Dead, this design celebrates life, death, and the road ahead. Honor the legend - sign up today!	SIGN_UP	http://fb.me/	Ruroc USA	https://www.facebook.com/rurocusa/	1,584,794	1969-12-31 18:00	Sign Up	fb.me	DCO	Brand New AT4.0 Street Styles!	http://fb.me/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481266856_983258023386472_7126547289742510804_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=RAITC48HFZ4Q7kNvgFZJXnI&_nc_oc=AdiR4oCR0BndIVHc9180_IpqlQM_orqyHZ4pBbZYSNfbMig_uqfk7jjNJViKceXUi4YonnH1H9vfDTn2ezLUao72&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ai4tiaOp0UlUZQW6eY7S8Ol&oh=00_AYCcvQvBx01qU6QhwM6u_OQNH9KsUrOzpiSyaLKZyf3dgg&oe=67CC2880	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Ruroc USA	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,766,223	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 18:28	active	2789	instagram.com	GIVEAWAY TIME! We’re giving away 3 passes to exclusive workout experiences at Stronger Together: A Wellness Collective! 💪🏽✨ Want in? Here’s how to enter: ✅ Follow @sisufitwear ✅ Like this post ✅ Tag 3 friends who’d love to sweat it out with you! Bonus entry: Share this post to your story and tag us! Winners will get access to a high-energy, community-powered workout led by amazing coaches. Don’t miss your chance to move boldly with us! #StrongerTogether #MoveBoldly	VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	http://instagram.com/sisufitwear	SISU	https://www.facebook.com/100089848691239/	279	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram profile	instagram.com	IMAGE		http://instagram.com/sisufitwear	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/482068995_613386188244760_6622834983361442618_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=o66PtNXKOUoQ7kNvgGSRVUY&_nc_oc=Adi1ZY06i5iRWJB4dUnSi_oelTB1c3FSHJaGqLVS1Gt9DdIl-si_Vhth8MY2kjIMm5hBtL2ZVJBFA7JbJr6ybw8B&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A5OVfoHa7-r1POjeI7u6jK9&oh=00_AYATKhIcCMZ6ckHEho1bdu5P1DYOOA1qf814Yaf-BIM3yQ&oe=67CC1BC3	PERSON_PROFILE	0	SISU	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,767,500	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 18:56	active	2790	Playing with MGK and Travis Barker	Jamming with my favorite drummer in the world Travis Barker and he brought his friend Machine Gun Kelly. #blink182 #mgk #travisbarker #drummer #vegasband	LEARN_MORE	http://www.johnallredmusic.com/	John Allred Donohoe	https://www.facebook.com/jallredmusic/	1,104	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	www.johnallredmusic.com	VIDEO		http://www.johnallredmusic.com/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481059976_627427103361323_7687292508078981934_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=yzEu48XqYWoQ7kNvgGK40u1&_nc_oc=AdgdxN71hYVsrlwzXZTfZOeQ01WZVa0qbPnpZYm2zcqR1xPdqotmAUI8XIxsahoAHHAGLVNl-vYt7ENj5NCzAjId&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ao3qKV1QRXSwsb3sNDDFfrG&oh=00_AYBm93_W4ny1CKzTAAAxYuRtuak_7UP547sPZnfoAAOqCA&oe=67CC2D70	PERSON_PROFILE	0	John Allred Donohoe	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,767,096	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 18:53	active	2790		▶︎プロフィール欄のURLからご購入いただけます管理番号を検索して詳細をご確認いただけます Online shopping available Please go to the website linked in our bio, search for the product code, and you can check the details ケリー25/Kelly 25 管理番号/Product code : 20328 ▷オレンジブティック渋谷店渋谷駅から徒歩3分 Orange boutique Shibuya Shibuya st 3min. ▶︎営業時間 Open hours 11:30~20:00 ▷東京都渋谷区宇田川町26-3-1F 1F 26-3 Udagawa-cho, Shibuya-ku, Tokyo ▷詳しくはDMにてお問い合わせ下さい。 Please DM us for more details ▶︎高価買取も行っておりますので、お気軽にお問い合わせ下さい。 We do purchase assessments, please bring your unnecessary items ▶︎海外発送も行っております We do ship overseas. #hermesbag #hermesbirkin #hermeskelly #tokyoshopping#shibuyashopping#shibuya#tokyo#hermeslover #hermesvintage #エルメス #エルメス買取 #エルメスバッグ #エルメス財布 #エルメス好き #バーキン25 #バーキン #エルメスコンスタンス #エルパト #エルメスパトロール #エルメス好きと繋がりたい #hermescollector #hermesjapan #ケリー25	VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	http://instagram.com/orange_boutique_shibuya	株式会社エイト	https://www.facebook.com/100093147846426/	28	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram profile	instagram.com	VIDEO		http://instagram.com/orange_boutique_shibuya	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481070988_966000378930348_8408728163712512851_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=NEdKc9I7qmgQ7kNvgE0zd-o&_nc_oc=Adhr0r7jR8hhd6ODFCG7A-jxA-hTXDt5mUUvxHpfeWwhxj3nim2huNtw8lZ9rFuD3rdOo02hDBWCHJahPSXYHvBn&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ACG5Mx_e6n87BO6TYPLBBVs&oh=00_AYC4ofd10TQfyJuMmltLpQBslQzMeMLkLjFbJLMDwPFj-w&oe=67CC1B17	PERSON_PROFILE	0	株式会社エイト	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,766,649	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2766650}'	No	2025-03-03 18:50	active	2790	🔥🔥Watch the whole series NOW! 💕💕My Secret Online Boyfriend Is My Ceo	Jennifer, a spirited young designer, has formed a close bond with her online boyfriend, Eclipse. Their virtual relationship is filled with shared dreams and secrets, and Jennifer eagerly anticipates their future meeting. However, upon starting her new job at a prominent design company, she discovers that her boss, Shane Timberlake, is a cold and demanding figure who constantly pressures his employees. Initially frustrated by Shane's behavior, Jennifer soon realizes that beneath his harsh exterior lies a deep loneliness and stress. As she gets to know him better, she begins to suspect that Shane might actually be Eclipse, her beloved online boyfriend.	LEARN_MORE	https://website.novelbinger.com/share/middle/l3o2x	Short drama	https://www.facebook.com/61551551210077/	89,975	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	website.novelbinger.com	VIDEO		https://website.novelbinger.com/share/middle/l3o2xejimkwv04rq5sjigpei?ad_id={{ad.id}}&sid=120218728383790529&campaign={{campaign.name}}&adgroup={{adset.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481287740_965359972402128_6290804683582587458_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=X-8M4KvWz3cQ7kNvgGaAUQm&_nc_oc=AdieCJEyRRdk1sh9EmYF35QdgC14DKqjr8lvro9tlxz4AzvxKCpAFp72fVU_MuF0BefkRPg9x5lUweHmnGOUdBTI&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AjKXRhg5LQ9BeAPJB2_kYpO&oh=00_AYCan_er1oIdw0mfgmkROA8ZVo9dmMVzAr1VsE9ASgKJ8w&oe=67CC2F48	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Short drama	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,768,444	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 19:10	active	2791	Read next chapter	An accident led her to marry the man she secretly loved. When he woke from his coma, he used her as a blood supply for his first love, even sending her to prison on false accusations, keeping her from seeing her grandmother one last time. Heartbroken, she demanded a divorce. ===== "It's been ages since we've had a moment like this..." Shane Brooks' lps brushed lightly against Yvonne Burton's ear. "Shane, I need to go to the hospital now..." Yvonne turned her head away, avoiding the kis Shane tried to steal. "Just this once!" Shane insisted. Time seemed to stretch endlessly. It wasn't until Yvonne felt the world around her spinning, faintness threatening to take over, that Shane finally let her go. "Did I hurt you?" His voice, rich and deep, carried a blend of concern and teasing. "How about I make it up to you with the latest designer bag?" Yvonne's eyelids fluttered open, her gaze locking onto him. The man before her was breathtakingly handsome, with features so refined they could have been sculpted by an artist. His usual cool and distant demeanor was still there, though now tinged with a faint, lingering pasion--proof of their recent intimacy. After three years of marriage, Yvonne had come to recognize this look. It was his tell, a sign that he was satisfied. That was why he was being so generous to her. Yvonne's lips curved into a bitter smile. "Did you forget? I haven't completed my sentence." "Then you can use the bag when you're out," Shane replied casually as if discussing the weather. Yvonne's chest tightened painfully. Shane had said it so nonchalantly, as though serving time was just a mundane inconvenience. "You will be released from prison soon, right?" His fingers trailed along her cheek with practiced ease. "I told you before, one year would fly by in the blink of an eye." Yvonne swallowed the lump in her throat, her hand clutching his as desperation seeped into her voice. "The hospital called me... They said my grandmother wasn't doing well. Could you come with me to the hospital to visit her?" Since she was still serving her sentence, she couldn't leave here freely. But she had earned a day of temporary release due to her good behavior in prison. Initially, her plan had been to go straight to the hospital. Yet, she had hesitated, worried her frail grandmother, Maggie Thomas, might be unsettled by her disheveled appearance. Returning home to freshen up had seemed like the right choice, but unexpectedly, she had run into Shane at home, who had just gotten back from a business trip overseas. She had really wanted to rush to the hospital, yet Shane had stopped her. He had been adamant, demanding his needs be met first, leaving her spending the entire morning here. Still, she thought, maybe this was good. If Shane accompanied her to the hospital, it would make her grandmother happy. But the next second, Shane pulled his hand away. Yvonne's heart sank like a stone tossed into deep water. "I've got something to do this afternoon. You can go on your own." Shane's words came out without hesitation. Standing up, he retrieved a card from the bedside drawer and held it out. "Use this to buy something nice for your grandmother." This wasn't unexpected for Yvonne--she had seen this play out before. Shane's preferred method of problem-solving always involved money. But she knew Maggie didn't need fancy gifts. What Maggie needed, what she longed for, was to see Shane and her being happy together as a family. Shane showered, got dressed, and left without so much as a goodbye. Yvonne rose slowly. She then busied herself with packing some homemade food to bring to the hospital--something Maggie would appreciate more than any store-bought gift. When she entered Maggie's hospital room, the sight before her made her bld run cold. The bag with the food slipped from her fingers, hitting the floor as she cried out, "Grandma!" Though Maggie had endured numerous hospital stays throughout her illness, she had never needed to use a ventilator. This really shocked Yvonne. Yvonne rushed to Maggie's bedside, her voice quavering with worry. "Grandma, I'm here! Open your eyes and look at me, Grandma!" Maggie's weathered eyelids fluttered open, a dim spark of recognition lighting her aged eyes. "Yvonne, you're here..." "Grandma, what happened?" Yvonne's words tumbled out in a panic. "The nurse said you were just feeling a bit unwell and missed me. Why does your condition look so severe?" "I asked the nurse not to worry you too much. Yvonne, I think I don't have much time left," Maggie replied. "No! That's not true!" Yvonne's trembling hand flew to Maggie's face. She then assessed Maggie's condition. Soon, her fears were confirmed--Maggie indeed had not much time left. Tears carved burning paths down Yvonne's cheeks as sadness threatened to tear her heart asunder. "Yvonne, life and death walk hand in hand. Don't cry." Maggie's papery fingers brushed Yvonne's wet cheek. "Having such a great granddaughter, I am satisfied with my life. I am just concerned about how you will live your life after I am gone." "Grandma, please stay with me!" Yvonne hastily scrubbed away her tears, forcing brightness into her voice. "I'll be out of prison in a month. Then I'll never leave your side. Remember how you longed to return to our hometown? Once you recover, we'll go back together." "That would be lovely." Maggie's gaze held infinite tenderness. "Bring Shane along, too." Though her heart knew otherwise, Yvonne nodded fervently. "Of course. Shane wanted to be here today, but urgent business matters demanded his attention." "Work always comes first." Maggie withdrew a half-moon pendant from beneath her pilow, pressing it into Yvonne's palm. The pendant was made of high-quality jade and was carved with a bird. "Yvonne, keep this safe. It's your--" The door's sudden opening cut short Maggie's words. Shane's commanding presence filled the doorway, his dark suit emphasizing his statuesque frame. He looked elegant with every move. Joy illuminated Yvonne's tear-stained face. "Grandma, look! Shane came to see you!" But as Shane approached, there was something amiss about his expression. His customary mask of cool detachment had cracked; he looked uncharacteristically anxious and worried. "Yvonne, Jayde needs an immediate bld transfusion." The words stabbed through Yvonne's momentary happiness. She had thought Shane was looking worried because of her grandmother, but it turned out he was just concerned for Jayde Davis. Of course. In Shane's world, no one could eclipse his childhood sweetheart, his eternal flame, Jayde. All others paled in comparison. Yvonne fought to suppress the familiar ache in her chest. "My grandmother lies here, critically ill. I must stay by her side. Can't Jayde use bld bank supplies?" she said. "The rare bld type isn't available here, and the nearest bank is an hour away. Jayde can't wait that long." Shane's fingers closed around Yvonne's wrist like steel bands. "Yvonne, her life hangs in the balance. You need to come with me now." "I won't leave my grandmother! Let go of me!" Yvonne's struggles proved futile against Shane's strength. "Yvonne..." Maggie's frail voice called out, her hand reaching toward her granddaughter. "I never told you about your parents. The truth is, you..." "Grandma!" Yvonne cried out, but Shane had already dragged her out of the room before she could hear the rest of her grandmother's words. Though protocol limited bld donations to 400 milliliters, Shane demanded double that amount from Yvonne. This left Yvonne ghost-white and trembling after the donation. Despite her weakness, she forced herself upright, using the wall for support as she stumbled back to Maggie's hospital room. The sight that greeted her sent her world spinning--the silent ventilator, Maggie's still form covered by a white cloth... Yvonne's legs betrayed her, sending her collapsing to the floor. Grief had stolen even her tears. She crawled forward on trembling limbs until she reached the bedside. "No... Grandma... Don't leave me..." She clutched Maggie's lifeless hand, drowning in waves of desolation. "My condolences, Yvonne." Shane's deep voice cut through her anguish with detachment. "Jayde is stable now. Thank you for your help... By the way, the prison requires your immediate return." Chapter 2 Let's Get A Divorce Yvonne's chest constricted with unbearable pain as she desperately grasped Shane's leg. "Shane, please," she said through trembling lips, "help me appeal to the prison authorities. My grandmother has passed away, and I need to handle her funeral arrangements. I can't go back now." Shane's features hardened into a disapproving frown. "Prison regulations aren't something you can simply circumvent with money. Your grief is understandable, but you need to think rationally before you speak." "Think rationally?" Yvonne gazed up at him, her voice quavering with emotion. "For eleven months, I've been imprisoned, and four times you've arranged my temporary release to donate bld for Jayde--all by using your financial influence. Why is this time different?" "The circumstances aren't comparable," Shane replied coldly. "How can you say that?" Raw anguish seeped through Yvonne's voice as she continued her plea. "I understand Jayde holds the highest place in your heart, but my grandmother just passed away. She raised me, yet I couldn't be there in her final moments. I must accompany her on this last journey--I can't bear the thought of her spirit departing alone. Shane, I am begging you; just do this one thing for me." "You still have an uncle, don't you? I'll help and ensure your grandmother receives an honorable funeral," Shane said. "That's not what this is about." Tears coursed down Yvonne's cheeks unchecked. "My grandmother is already gone. A lavish funeral means nothing now. I just want to bid her farewell in person. If you grant me this, I swear I'll donate bld for Jayde whenever necessary." Shane's gaze turned glacial as he looked down at her. "Are you treating bl*d donation as some kind of bargaining tool? This is your obligation to Jayde. If not for your actions, she wouldn't be confined to a wheelchair." Yvonne squeezed her eyes shut. She could feel Shane's words piercing her heart. Jayde's incident had happened a year ago. She had tumbled down the stairs, suffering spinal injuries that had left her paralyzed below the waist. She had accused Yvonne of pushing her down the stairs. The Brooks family unanimously condemned Yvonne. Without surveillance footage or witnesses to clear her name, Yvonne stood defenseless against the accusations. Shane, her husband, had delivered the ultimatum: "Yvonne, Jayde's suffering is immeasurable. Legal consequences are necessary considering what you have done to her. Such an assault typically carries three to ten years, but Jayde's compasion moves her to request only one." The irony of it all had left Yvonne feeling bitter. She had initially refused to go to prison, demanding police intervention. But Jayde had produced damning evidence--a video showing Yvonne pushing her down the stairs. The collective revulsion in the Brooks family members' eyes as they watched that video still haunted Yvonne. It was as if they felt even breathing the same air as her was repulsive. * Shane's bodyguards eventually escorted Yvonne back to her prison cell. The combination of severe bld loss and overwhelming grief left Yvonne bedridden for two days, her body too weak to rise. On the third day, fate dealt another cruel blow. In the prison's recreation room, the television broadcasted Jayde's extravagant birthday celebration. The media were saying that the Brooks Group's CEO Shane had spared no expense in celebrating Jayde's birthday. The screen captured Jayde in her wheelchair, her natural beauty undimmed by her condition. Shane hovered attentively at her side, his expression radiating tenderness and devotion. Together, they looked really good together, like a match made in heaven. Fresh tears carved silent paths down Yvonne's cheeks as the reality struck her. While her grandmother Maggie was being laid to rest today, Shane--who had promised to assist with the funeral arrangements--was instead orchestrating an elaborate celebration for Jayde. In that moment of crushing clarity, Yvonne finally grasped the bitter truth: Shane's heart held no love for her. No sacrifice she made would ever be enough to change that. Yvonne had a secret, one she had guarded for a decade--her unwavering love for Shane. Shane had once only existed in a realm far beyond her reach, while she remained just another face in the crowd, their paths never meant to intersect. Fate had intervened three years ago through a devastating car accident that had left Shane comatose. The Brooks family had exhausted every medical resource, consulting countless renowned physicians without success. It was Shane's grandmother, Lydia Brooks, who turned to superstitious beliefs. She suggested that marriage might bring the fortune needed to restore Shane's health. Fate had taken another unexpected turn when Jayde, Shane's betrothed, had suddenly been kidnapped. With the wedding date looming, Lydia had desperately searched for another bride with a compatible horoscope. She had then discovered Yvonne, who had been working part-time as a caregiver for the Brooks family at that time. Marrying Shane came with a precious opportunity for Yvonne--Yvonne's ailing grandmother Maggie would receive treatment at the hospital under the Brooks Group. The hospital was one of the top hospitals in Zlamsas. Ordinary people couldn't afford to get treatment there. Yvonne had agreed to the marriage without hesitation, though her heart held a deeper truth. For seven years, she had harbored an unspoken love for Shane, willing to tend to him even if he would never emerge from his coma. A month after the marriage, Shane had miraculously awakened. His fury when he had learned of the marriage for fortune's sake had led to immediate demands for divorce. Yet, these demands had ceased abruptly when he had discovered Yvonne shared Jayde's bld type. From that moment forward, Yvonne had become nothing more than Jayde's living bld bank. Determined to make Shane happy, Yvonne had shouldered this burden silently. For two years, she had devoted herself to caring for Shane and his family, striving to embody the perfect wife--until Jayde's false accusation had led to her imprisonment. Ten years--she had loved Shane for ten years. She had given Shane her purest love and most selfless devotion, but what did she get in return? Shane only had eyes for Jayde, his heart perpetually closed to her. Perhaps she had been naive to hope Shane might one day even care about her a little bit. * Rain poured from leaden skies the day of Yvonne's release from prison. No one had come to pick her up. After a lengthy journey on multiple buses, she arrived at Serenity Villa, Shane's residence, her clothes clinging to her because of the rain. The fingerprint lock granted her entry, and she found Shane descending the staircase when she entered, his appearance impeccable in stark contrast to her disheveled state. Surprise flickered across Shane's features when he saw her. "Why are you back?" he asked. Yvonne's fingers trembled as she replied, "I was released today." "Ah, I forgot." Shane paused briefly before her. "Get some rest. I'm heading out now." "Shane," Yvonne suddenly called out. "I need to talk to you about something." Shane glanced impatiently at his watch. "We can talk when I return." As Shane moved past Yvonne, Yvonne grasped his sleeve to stop him. "It won't take long." Shane halted reluctantly, irritation evident in his expression. "Make it quick." Yvonne studied his perfect profile, a slight smile on her face. "Shane, let's get a divorce," she said, her tone resolute. Shane's confusion was palpable as he turned to face her. "You want a divorce because I didn't pick you up from prison?" "This isn't about today." Yvonne's smile didn't waver. "I genuinely want a divorce. We can handle the paperwork when you're free." "Yvonne, I don't have time for your antics right now." Shane's expression darkened as he shook off her hand. "You should take a shower and clear your head. You are not thinking straight." After Shane's departure, Yvonne stood motionless, lost in thought. Shane thought she was not thinking straight. But that was not true. In fact, her mind had never been clearer. * Upstairs, Yvonne drew a bath and powered on her fully charged phone. A month's worth of WhatsApp messages awaited her--none from Shane. As she absently scrolled through her feed, she suddenly froze upon seeing something. Jayde had just posted something. "True love is shown through enduring companionship." The accompanying photo showed her beaming at the camera while Shane peeled an apple beside her, the perfect picture of devotion. Chapter 3 I Want You Yvonne blinked. So that was why Shane had been in a rush to leave, not even wanting to talk about the divorce with her. He had been eager to go and spend time with Jayde. A familiar ache seized Yvonne's heart, spreading numbness through her chest. Throughout her two-year marriage with Shane, Yvonne had watched as Jayde paraded Shane's affections across social media. Each post had torn at her heart, yet something had kept drawing her back to look at the posts. Now, finally, she had resolved to end this cycle of torment. Her fingers moved swiftly as she deleted both Shane and Jayde from her WhatsApp contacts. After her shower, Yvonne just finished getting dressed when her phone rang. Shane's name blazed across the screen. Wasn't Shane supposed to be spending time with Jayde now? Why was he calling her? Yvonne hesitated for a moment but eventually picked up the call. "Shane?" "Did you delete Jayde on WhatsApp?" Shane asked. "Yes. What's wrong?" Yvonne replied. "You have the nerve to ask that?" Venom dripped from Shane's words. "Jayde wanted to congratulate you on your release but then discovered you had deleted her. She thought you still resented her. She broke down remembering when you had pushed her down the stairs. Yvonne, when will you stop causing trouble?" His sharp words pierced Yvonne's heart, but she maintained her composure. "Shane, deleting her was my freedom," she said. "You are still talking about your freedom?" Shane's voice grew colder. "She's a patient, Yvonne! She is already stuck in a wheelchair because of you. She is now emotionally fragile. The least you could do is show some compasion!" Yvonne's lips curled into a bitter smile as she closed her eyes, forcing her tears back. "If she's as fragile as you say, then it's all the more reason for me to keep my distance. God forbid something happens, and I get blamed again." "Yvonne, don't--" Yvonne didn't let Shane finish. The call ended with a sharp click, and she wasted no time blocking his number. After that, she made herself a simple plate of spaghetti and ate quietly, her thoughts heavy. Then, umbrella in hand, she headed to the cemetery. The rain fell in a quiet drizzle, soaking the earth. Yvonne stood before Maggie's tombstone for what felt like an eternity, the weight of her emotions pressing down on her chest. When she returned to Serenity Villa, it was already evening. Just as she entered, she saw Shane sitting on the living room sofa. Yvonne froze for a moment, caught off guard by his presence. Normally, when Shane was with Jayde, he wouldn't come home until late at night, after Jayde was asleep. Not wanting to delve into Shane's unusual behavior, Yvonne ignored him and headed upstairs. "Stop right there." Shane's voice cut through the quiet like a knife. Yvonne halted but didn't turn around. Shane rose from the sofa and walked to stand before Yvonne, his gaze locking onto hers. "You've grown bold, haven't you? Hanging up on me and even blocking my number?" Yvonne said nothing, her body tense as she tried to walk past him. But Shane grabbed her wrist, his grip firm. "I'm talking to you. What's the matter--did prison leave you deaf?" The words stung Yvonne hard, but she met his gaze, her voice trembling with restrained emotion. "Yes, Shane, I've been to prison. My life is already in ruins because of it. Isn't that punishment enough for you?" Shane's brows furrowed as his eyes searched her face. He noticed the puffiness around her eyes, the faint redness. "Have you been crying? Did you go to visit your grandmother's grave?" Yvonne tried hard to hold back her tears. "I wasn't there for her when she needed me the most. Do I need your permission to visit her now?" Shane's expression darkened when he heard that. "Yvonne, the reason I pushed for you to return to prison that day was because I didn't want you to dwell in your grief. It was for your own good." "For my own good?" Yvonne let out a hollow laugh, her bitterness spiling over. "Are you even listening to yourself? You can't even lie convincingly anymore, Shane." With a sharp tug, she pulled her wrist free. Her voice was steady now, cold and final. "I'm tired, Shane. Let's just end this. Let's get a divorce." * Yvonne went to the master bedroom's walk-in closet, dragging out an old suitcase to pack her belongings. She wanted to leave behind everything the Brooks family had given her after the wedding, which left little to take. "Yvonne, stop with your antics!" Shane's exasperated voice cut through the silence. "It was just a year in prison. I made sure you weren't mistreated there. What more do you want?" Yvonne's hands stilled over her clothes as she turned her head to face him. "You certainly ensured I was treated differently. Every meal there was packed with spinach and liver to replenish my bld, keeping me ready for the next bl*d transfusion for Jayde." Shane's brow furrowed. "So this circles back to Jayde again. The transfusions saved her life. You work in medicine--you should have some compassion. And I've compensated you generously." "Compassion?" A hollow laugh escaped Yvonne's lips. "Show me one doctor who has bld themselves dry for a patient." She gestured toward the wall of luxury handbags--a collection worth hundreds of millions, coveted by countless women. "Is this your idea of compensation? One bag per transfusion. I always get the ones Jayde rejected." Each bag was Jayde's selection, and Shane paid for it. Jayde would claim the ones she preferred, leaving Yvonne with the ostentatious pieces--expensive but impractical for daily use. Yvonne had never requested bags, yet both Shane and Jayde believed exchanging bld for luxury bags was a good deal for her. "I won't take a single bag," Yvonne said with a slight smile. "I never agreed to sell my bld." Shane massaged his temples. Throughout their marriage, Yvonne had remained compliant--occasionally sulking but never defiant, never speaking to him like this. Shane gripped Yvonne's shoulders, his tone gentling. "I know you're upset after staying in prison for so long. Let's not fight, okay? I asked Zoey to prepare your favorite dishes. Let's go and have a meal together." Yvonne shrugged off his hands, grabbed her suitcase, and moved toward the door. The next second, in one fluid motion, Shane swept Yvonne into his arms. Before Yvonne could resist, she was placed on the soft bd by Shane. He trapped her hands above her head, his scent surrounding her as he whispered in her ear, "Yvonne, stop being angry, alright? Tonight, I will mke lve to you until you're satisfied." Yvonne's heart thundered in her chest. Previously, when anger took hold of her, she would always melt under Shane's bdroom tactics, quick to forgive. Shane had found amusement in this pattern. His dominance had always overwhelmed her, pushing her limits until she broke into tears, begging for mercy and agreeing to his every demand. Yvonne shuddered, her body taut as she grasped at her crumbling resolve. Though she struggled against him, Shane seemed determined to draw her into the moment, refusing to release her. Shane muttered, "Yvonne, I want you..." Chapter 4 She Is Pregnant Yvonne fought against the magnetic pull of Shane's touch, forcing herself to bite down hard on her lower lip. The sharp sting anchored her thoughts,she couldn't afford to lose herself in this facade of intimacy anymore, not in a marriage devoid of genuine love. Just then, the shrill ring of a phone pierced the intimate moment. Shane showed no intention of stopping, but the persistent sound quickly disrupted his mood. His eyes darted to the screen, and he let go of Yvonne. The name "Jayde" illuminated the screen, and Yvonne also saw it. History had taught Yvonne the pattern well. Other calls during such moments would be silenced by Shane without hesitation, but Jayde's calls were the exception. Whenever Jayde called Shane, Shane would answer immediately. Shane's voice turned gentle as he answered the call. "I'm at home... She didn't mean anything against you; don't overthink it... Alright, I'll go to see you later..." Yvonne sat up, adjusting her clothes. Her hands trembled as she buttoned her shirt. Shane ended his call and turned to her with an amused smile playing on his lips. "Such haste to dress yourself--are you afraid of what I might do?" Yvonne didn't say anything. "If you want them to stay fastened, join me for dinner downstairs now." Recalling what had just happened, Yvonne acquiesced. Resistance, she had learned, was futile. * In the dining room, the maid, Zoey Rowe, had already prepared a feast of culinary excellence. "Mrs. Brooks, you have lost so much weight. You need to eat more," Zoey said. Shane's gaze traveled across the table, studying the woman eating before him. Zoey's observation struck a chord--Yvonne's natural slenderness had indeed become more pronounced since her release from prison, her features carrying a new sharpness. Though her beauty remained unchanged, Shane couldn't help but feel like Yvonne had changed somehow. As Zoey transferred a portion of braised beef to Yvonne's plate, the rich aroma triggered an unexpected wave of nausea in Yvonne. She couldn't help but gag. "Mrs. Brooks!" Zoey rushed to pour a glass of water for Yvonne, concern etching her features. "Are you feeling unwell?" "I'm fine." Yvonne regained her composure and rose from her chair. "I'm full now." Shane's appetite vanished as he watched Yvonne leave. Abandoning his meal, he stood up and prepared to leave the house. "Mr. Brooks, you've barely touched your food," Zoey said. "I need to step out." Shane shrugged into his coat, pausing to instruct, "The food in prison is bland--Yvonne's body needs time to readjust. Prepare lighter meals for now." Zoey nodded and replied, "Yes, Mr. Brooks." * Upstairs, Yvonne had just reached her room when she heard the sound of a car engine from outside. A bitter smile twisted her lips as she contemplated how quickly Shane had abandoned dinner to fulfill his promise to Jayde. It was clear Shane really loved Jayde. Standing beside the floor-to-ceiling window, Yvonne watched Shane's car disappear into the distance. As she closed her weary eyes, a startling realization jolted them open again--she realized she might be carrying a child. The timing left little room for doubt. That day a month ago, Shane had refused to use protection. Shane had always disliked using protection, so she always took medication afterward. She had planned to purchase preventive medication after visiting Maggie in the hospital that day, but grief had consumed her when Maggie passed away unexpectedly. The pils had slipped from her mind entirely. Thoughts whirled through Yvonne's head like autumn leaves in a storm until clarity finally emerged. She hurried out to purchase a pregnancy test, her heart thundering against her ribs. The two clear lines that appeared finally confirmed her suspicions with stark finality. She just hadn't taken the pils one time. She had not expected to get prgnant so easily like this. Yvonne's hand drifted to her lower abdomen, her emotions churning like a turbulent sea. The cruel irony of fate struck her like a physical blow--just as she had steeled herself to end her marriage with Shane, she discovered she was carrying his child. Sleep proved elusive that night, Yvonne's thoughts churning until exhaustion finally claimed her. When she woke up, the sky outside was bright. Shane had not come home the entire night, his side of the bed untouched. After Yvonne made her way down for breakfast, Zoey burst into the dining room, barely containing her excitement beneath a veneer of hesitation. "What has made you so excited?" Yvonne asked, studying Zoey's expression. "Did you win the lottery or something?" "Mrs. Brooks, it's you who has made me excited!" Zoey produced a pregnancy test, her eyes sparkling. "I found this while cleaning. You are prgnant! This is wonderful news! Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?" Yvonne's silence spoke volumes. "Mrs. Brooks?" Zoey's enthusiasm dimmed. "Aren't you happy about this?" Yvonne stirred her oatmeal slowly. "Zoey, I've already told Shane that I want a divorce." The revelation struck Zoey like lightning. "You want to divorce Mr. Brooks? How could you consider such a thing?" she said. "Why can't I do that?" Yvonne's voice remained steady, masking her inner turmoil. "Haven't you noticed how great Shane and Jayde look together? They are the real loving couple here. I disrupted their relationship, claiming a title that wasn't rightfully mine and forcing them apart." Her lips curved in self-mockery at her foolish dream that Shane might grow to love her one day. Tears welled in Zoey's eyes. "Mrs. Brooks, I know this past year in prison brought you immense suffering. But that chapter has ended. You and Mr. Brooks can build something new together now. Eventually, Mr. Brooks will recognize your worth. Now, with you being prgnant, everything could change. Your child deserves a complete family--you can't proceed with the divorce." Yvonne's movements stilled as memories of her own childhood surfaced. Orphaned young, she had been raised by her grandparents. Though her grandparents had given her all the love they could, she had always envied other children who had both their parents. She understood profoundly the importance of giving a child a complete family. "Having children often changes a man's priorities," Zoey said gently. "Fatherhood has a way of grounding men, redirecting their focus to family. For your child's sake, shouldn't Mr. Brooks have a chance to prove himself?" Yvonne nodded slightly. Perhaps Zoey was right--her child deserved a chance at a complete family. If Shane could maintain distance from Jayde, she would bury the past and make her marriage with Shane work. After breakfast, Yvonne took a taxi to the Brooks Group. Few employees knew of her marriage to Shane, so she called Shane's assistant, asking him to escort her to Shane's office. She found Shane engaged in a phone call in his office, his lack of surprise at her appearance suggesting he had grown accustomed to her anger dissipating overnight. The assistant provided Yvonne with a glass of water and then departed. Shane ended his call and looked at Yvonne. "Why didn't you sleep in?" "I've had sufficient sleep." Yvonne pointed at the thermos she had brought. "Zoey asked me to bring the soup to you." "I'll have it later," Shane replied. "Where were you last night, Shane?" Yvonne asked. Shane's response came without hesitation. "Jayde wasn't feeling well and was admitted to the hospital. I stayed with her there." Yvonne's fingers trembled when she heard that. After gathering her courage, she said, "If we had a child, would you spend more time at home?" Shane's brow furrowed. "You want a child now?" "Don't you want a child?" Yvonne asked. Shane lit a cigarette, taking a drag before responding in measured tones, "Yvonne, now is not the right time for us to have a child." Yvonne paused for a moment. "Why?" Shane replied, "Jayde's health has been declining. If you became prgnant, you wouldn't be able to donate your bl*d to her." Chapter 5 Leaving With Nothing A glacial chill crept through Yvonne's body, starting at her feet and spreading gradually until numbness claimed every inch of her being. She realized she had been too naive. She had clung to desperate hopes--that she could start a new family with Shane, that Shane might embrace fatherhood as Zoey had suggested, that their unborn child could bridge the growing chasm between Shane and her. But reality had shattered those illusions, revealing a harsh truth: even their child ranked beneath Jayde in Shane's eyes. Yvonne closed her eyes as tears traced silent paths down her cheeks. "I know you don't like Jayde." Shane's patronizing tone cut through the silence. "But her health is genuinely fragile now. Surely you can show some understanding of that." His eyes flickered over Yvonne's tear-stained features as he added, "We can discuss having children once Jayde's health condition improves. There's no need to rush." A bitter smile twisted Yvonne's lips. She knew that if she told Shane now that she was prgnant, he would probably drag her to the hospital immediately to terminate the pregnancy. This child represented one of her last remaining familial bonds, and she would never sacrifice it for Jayde's sake. "Of course, I understand that," Yvonne said, brushing away her tears and summoning a weak smile. "Don't let me keep you from your work. I won't bother you any further." She fled Shane's office before he could respond, retreating to Serenity Villa where she hastily packed her belongings, gave Zoey some instructions, and left. Though she had initially planned to seek refuge in a hotel, her uncle's timely call redirected her path to his doorstep. The clock struck ten when Shane returned to Serenity Villa, only to find the master bedroom empty. Yvonne was not there. His attempt to reach Yvonne by phone proved futile, prompting him to go downstairs and summon Zoey. "Where's Yvonne?" he asked Zoey. "Mrs. Brooks has moved out," Zoey replied. "What?" A deep frown etched across Shane's features. "When?" "This morning." Zoey hesitated, the weight of Yvonne's words pressing down on her. Yvonne had told her not to mention anything about her pregnancy to Shane. Otherwise, the baby would be harmed. After a moment, Zoey presented Shane with a document. "Mrs. Brooks left this divorce agreement for you." Shane's eyes swept over the pages, a cold laugh escaping his lips. "Leaving with nothing--she's really something!" "Mr. Brooks appears quite resolute about the decision to divorce," Zoey said. "That's not her choice to make!" Shane yanked at his tie in frustration. "Where has she gone?" "Mrs. Brooks didn't tell me that," Zoey replied. Shane stormed out, barking orders for the driver to ready the car. * Fresh from her shower in the guest room, Yvonne was about to go to sleep when her phone's ringing pierced the silence. An unknown number flashed across the screen. Yvonne answered the call. "Hello?" "Come downstairs." Shane's familiar, cold voice echoed on the other end of the line. Yvonne's grip on the phone froze for a moment. "I am already in bed." "I will give you ten minutes, Yvonne. If you don't come down in ten minutes, I'll ensure this entire neighborhood gets no sleep tonight," Shane said. The call then disconnected, leaving Yvonne staring at her phone. After a moment's hesitation, she changed and descended the stairs. A black Rolls-Royce was parked outside, with Shane's imposing figure beside it. Maintaining a careful distance, Yvonne spoke with forced composure. "It's late. What do you want?" "You're asking me that? Did you interpret last night's conversation as some kind of joke? You had the audacity to draft divorce papers and vanish?" Shane said. "Get in the car. Come home. We'll forget this ever happened." "Home..." Yvonne let out a bitter laugh. "That place is not my home. If it is, why would my husband spend his nights elsewhere with another woman?" "Back to Jayde again. Can't you stop being so petty?" Shane said. "You think I am being petty? Should I smile while watching your displays of affection? Continue offering my bld? Perhaps serve another prison sentence?" Yvonne looked at Shane. "Shane, our marriage was business, but I'm a person--not Jayde's personal bl*d bank." Shane let out a cold chuckle. "You knew the marriage was transactional. You married me for your grandmother's treatment. Now that she's gone, you're eager to leave me. Burning bridges already?" Yvonne replied, "Fine. I'll repay every cent of my grandmother's hospital bills. I won't owe you anything after that." Fury blazed in Shane's eyes. "What did you say?" Yvonne met his rage with a calm expression. "Calculate the total. I'll provide an IOU and repay it in installments. You can decide on the interest." Just as she finished speaking, Shane quickly approached Yvonne. Yvonne barely had time to react before finding herself engulfed in his embrace. His hand gripped her waist as the world tilted, her back meeting the car's cold metal surface. "What are you--" Shane's lips silenced Yvonne's protest, claiming dominance in a breathtaking kis that left her gasping. "Unless you want me to have s*x with you right here, get in the car." ...... What happens next? Can Yvonne divorce as she wishes? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/68536322-fb_contact-e	Fun Novel	https://www.facebook.com/100090881055588/	1,340	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	IMAGE		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/68536322-fb_contact-enj106_2-250213-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=233925549638247&exdata=7B56E844072567357270877735304EF8C2DDDD02683C510F	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/477059850_509389535524279_1010831678139082987_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=eQR0m0mOvy8Q7kNvgExNmNU&_nc_oc=AdiH3aFtW1i5J84f6n25iq8PKiHqcMLIlLWwirtTIg3AnVaveasA23q8eSEuXlx4Z3tkBqx7nleBIeEKjLraP7pg&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AGU1kWx0hw2IlXu6fPuRvNW&oh=00_AYB7-jujBi0I-Rw5awtMJD05ZfeKVP0jmTBHF0ObGati9w&oe=67CC28BC	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Fun Novel	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
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2,768,015	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2768041}'	No	2025-03-03 19:10	active	2791	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	As the daughter of Alpha, I was tortured since I was 6 years old, and more tragically, I was forced to marry the demon Alpha who killed his 9 ex-girlfriends... Neah "Where is she?" I hear the Beta scream. I groan and rise to my feet, grabbing the cleaning basket before heading over. The moment Beta Kyle sees me, he strides towards me and his hand slices against my cheek. I don't make a sound. Years of experience has taught me to keep my mouth shut at all times. "Alpha Trey and I are expecting company and you still have not cleaned the office." Beta Kyle spits at me. I nod my head and my hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If only I could find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make my day. But I didn't need another week locked up with no food. My stomach already hurt enough. "We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Don't you understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!" I don't answer, It's a trap, a ploy to provoke me into saying something that would justify punishment. I keep my eyes lowered, avoiding his gaze. Alpha Dane, I had only ever heard rumours about him. He was a ruthless man, a Wolf feared by others. He didn't mess around and he had the largest pack. "He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!" We had never been attacked and we had never attacked anyone, so why did we need another pack to help us? He grabs my shoulders, his nails digging into my skin as he turns me around and kicks me into the office. "Useless Wolf." He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean against it, observing the already clean office. It looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing my eyes, I slide down to the floor. I hated this house. I thought that when I turned eighteen, I could finally escape, but four years later, here I still am, a slave in my own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for my brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While my ex mate, Beta Kyle waltzes around reminding me of how worthless I am. Someone clears their throat and I freeze, I thought I was alone. Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair, just around the corner. A foot propped up on his knee as he nurses a glass of alcohol. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don't quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. "Is this the way you greet all Alphas?" His deep voice rumbles through the room, there was an edge of amusement to his tone. "I'm sorry." I whisper, getting to my feet. "I...I thought I was alone." I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. "Come forward." He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey wil kill me. I step around the corner, doing as I'm told, allowing him to see me properly. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. "You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?" I nod, though I couldn't tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. "I would prefer it if you spoke to me." He growls, "I'm not in the mood to play games." "Yes." I whisper. I couldn't help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? "Why do you smell strange? And how is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me." "I..." I hated the question. "You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. It's rude to not look at them. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?" His deep voice sends a shiver through me. Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them, there was no way I was making eye contact."My Wolf abilities were bound," I mutter. Twice, I wanted to add. Twice my abilities were bound. But he probably wasn't interested in that part. He leans forward, I could feel him staring at me, "Why would someone do that?" If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. "It was a punishment." I whisper. It wasn't far from the entire truth. There's a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn't tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me "Neah, what are you doing in my office?" He turns to the crimson eyed man. "I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it's him. My brother spins around, hand poised to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He is taller than my brother, more muscly too. "Neah," My name rolls off of his tongue, "was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested." What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. "Go and get Beta Kyle." Alpha Trey seethes. "Tell him our guest is here." I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. "Beta Kyle," I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. "Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you." He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. "You're lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't see sunlight for a few days." Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn't speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn't last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. "Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating." I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. "Neah is your sister, correct?" Alpha Dane questions my brother. "She is." Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. "Why do you treat her like trash?" Straight to the point, my brother wouldn't like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. "Neah was responsible for our parents' death." Alpha Trey spits I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Responsible how?" Alpha Dane's voice rumbles through me. He was definitely angry. "She served them Wolfsbane." Don't make a sound. Don't make a sound. I knew Alpha Dane was studying me. They all did, no one could ever quite believe how someone could do something so disgusting as poisoning their own parents. I stood there, with my head hanging low, wishing for the ground to open up and suck me in. There are movements around me. He was standing directly in front of me. With a rough finger he tilts my face up towards his, forcing me to look at him. "You poisoned your parents?" "I was six." I splutter. "I just made them lemonade." My voice comes out all squeaky as I try to defend myself. I could barely remember my parents, but I could remember all the guilt I had been made to feel since that day. His crimson eyes flash to my brothers. "Hardly seems fair to blame a six year old." "A six year old should know the difference between plants." Alpha Trey snaps "Sounds to me like she was set up." Alpha Dane shrugs his shoulders, letting go of me. "You weren't there, Alpha Dane." My brother muttered through gritted teeth as his eyes narrowed to slits. "I didn't ask you here to talk about my slave!" Alpha Dane grabs his leather jacket from the chair. Unlike other Alpha's he seemed to dress more casually. A simple black tee and jeans covered his huge frame. And unlike other Alpha's, his arms are bare of tattoos, not a single bit of ink poked out anywhere. "You're right and now I have a few things to mull over." "I thought we agreed." My brother exclaims "Nothing has been signed. Now I will show myself out." The moment he is out of the office, both my brother and Beta Kyle round on me. "What the heck did you say to him?" My brother demands, slamming a hand into my stomach. "N...nothing. Well, he just asked me why I smelled funny." "Did you tell him?" Beta Kyle demands. He was practically spitting in my face. I hated him. I hated him so much that I had vowed to one day get my revenge and rip his stomach out through his mouth. "WELL?" My brother yells when I don't immediately respond and smacks me across the side of the head. My head involuntarily moves up and down. "But I didn't say it was you." I tried to sound strong and confident but it just comes out as a whisper. My brother's hand locks into my black hair as he yanks my head back, sending a shooting pain through my skull. "If you have ruined this, you won't see daylight again." He drags me by my hair from the office and down the hallway towards the basement door. "Please…." I beg. "He was an Alpha…I… I had to answer him." My cheeks burn with my tears as he flings the door open. On the other side of the door is Alpha Dane. He is leaning against the wall with his arms folded, staring out at us. My brother's hand falls from my hair, relieving the pressure on the back of my skull... "Alpha Dane, I thought you had left." Alpha Trey murmurs angrily. "I said I would show myself out. I thought I had found the door, but instead I find a basement, riddled in your sister's strange scent. Is this how you treat your family?" "As I said," my brother holds his ground, "She is responsible for the death of my parents, so yes, this is what she deserves." "You should keep your nose out of other packs' business!" Beta Kyle adds. Alpha Dane laughs. "If I agree to this deal, everything about your business becomes my business. So tell me, what would your punishment be for her? No food, locked away for a week, beatings?" Both Alpha Trey and Beta Kyle hold their tongues. There was no reason for him to defend me and yet he was. I was a nobody, no one special. Just who everyone called a traitor. Only instead of being given a death sentence, my brother had decided to make me spend my life suffering. I see those crimson eyes land on my swollen face. "I have a proposition for you, Alpha Trey." Alpha Dane speaks up again. "We have already agreed on terms." "Well, I'm adding one. And if you don't agree, you will not get my help. Instead, you will become my enemy. And we both know, you don't want that." "I take it that your new terms have something to do with her?" Alpha Trey mutters through clenched teeth. "You would be correct. Let me take her away to my pack and then you, Trey will have a deal." Me? Why would he want me? As my brother and his Beta discuss me, Alpha Dane is still studying me. His look made me nervous. What could someone like him possibly want with me? "Deal." Alpha Trey sticks out his hand for Alpha Dane to shake. He doesn't take it, instead his crimson eyes shift from me to my brother. "I will have paperwork drawn up and will return tomorrow." He reaches a hand out and cups my face, "Ensure you have everything packed." He drags his thumb across my bottom lip and strides to the opposite end of the hallway and straight to the front door. He knew exactly where the front door was, so what was he up to? He pauses at the door. "If I find out any one of you has laid a hand on her. The contract will be the last thing you need to worry about." He struts out, slamming the door behind him. After Dane leaves, my brother grabs me by the collar. "You think you're going to have a good life if you follow Alpha Dane out of here? Don't be naive!" He continues in a vicious voice. "He's the coldest man in the world, he's killed nine of his mates, I'm waiting to see what happens to you!"	LEARN_MORE	https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&	New world publications	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	3,810	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	wwwedb.com	VIDEO		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474532535_1277438859997486_241044512500918713_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=9O8gVs_KEFsQ7kNvgH84Hsy&_nc_oc=AdgYgypMiTX7bp0Mazr87hCXfvpTINP74fZf4OUAr_-AFvDdIPQi5MLMDADcxFsRgh_SaTaX0XkRkbqki8oRkSHL&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhGCNujoKMMZiGiXmRqx-bP&oh=00_AYDDTMfm9MdzexF3vhlYF4Jzms4u0RtI-moy7Hl64YgiUA&oe=67CC3C6C	PERSON_PROFILE	0	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
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2,768,084	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2768215}'	Yes	2025-03-03 19:10	active	2791	🔥NEW POPULAR READ🔥	“I want a divorce.” I said, but there was no response. “I said I want a divorce.” 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. “You are tired. Go and have a nap or something,” he said dismissively. I bit down on my lips and, in annoyance, slammed the divorce papers I had secretly gathered on his desk. “What is this?” he muttered in irritation, flipping through the papers. “These are the divorce papers. I have my signature already on them. All that’s left is your signature.” His brow furrowed, and his jaw clenched. Then suddenly, he tore the papers into shreds, causing me to gasp. “What… what do you think you are doing? I spent months gathering that… why would you…” “I will not divorce!” His voice thundered, causing me to flinch. He tossed the shredded papers across the room. “You are my wife. The Luna of the Moonshade Pack. How dare you ask for a divorce?” “What more do you want? You’ve caused me nothing but pain for the past three years,” I found myself yelling in anger. “You’ve had your revenge. My father's dead and you took over his pack. What more do you want? Why won’t you let me go? Why…” “It’s not enough!” he cut me off. “Your pain is not enough! You cannot be happy while I am unhappy! You will remain unhappy by my side forever,” he said, now standing, his voice filled with nothing but disdain. I let out a shaky breath. Who was he? This wasn’t the man I had fallen in love with. This wasn’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 stranger—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? “I, Amaya Blackwood…” “Don’t you dare, Amaya!” he said, taking steps forward while I took more back. “…of the Moonshade pack reject you…” “Amaya!” 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. “Divorce me, Dante,” 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. “Please… let me go.” “Never!” he growled. “I will never let you go, Amaya. Even if you hate me.” We continued staring at each other, panting heavily, until I looked away. Only then did his grip loosen, and he took a step back. “Now return to your room, and don’t you ever think about something as absurd as divorce again, because it’s never going to happen.” 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. “Oh, sorry,” I muttered, and when I looked up, I saw that the man I bumped into was Cyrus, the son of my father’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. “Watch where you are going,” he sneered. I lowered my head and continued walking, but then he added, “The Alpha received a marriage proposal.” I froze, gripping the hem of my dress. He continued, “She’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?” He turned to me with a smug look, expecting a disapproving response. Instead, I smiled warmly. “Ah 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.” His smug look faltered, and he looked at me confused. “You are giving up so easily?” he said, and now I was the one who was confused. “What else can I do? He’s made it clear that I have no say in my own life. If this marriage proposal is what’s best for the pack, who am I to stand in the way?” He frowned, and when he didn’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 Cyrus’s words. The pack adored their new Alpha. After all, he had saved them from misfortune. Kara was also everything I wasn’t—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 wasn’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 couldn’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. “Should I jump?” 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 didn’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. “Good morning, Amaya,” she said, as if she wasn’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. “Good morning,” I muttered, keeping my eyes down. Dante, on the other hand, didn’t look up. He was busy reading something on his tablet. “Amaya, you look pale,” she added just as I was about to take a bite of my sausage. “Are you not feeling well?” 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. “I…I’m fine,” I muttered. “If you’re fine, stop sulking,” Dante said coldly. “Dante,” Kara scolded. “Why are you being harsh? She doesn’t look well.” “She’s the daughter of a powerful Alpha. I’m sure her wolf will heal her,” 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 couldn’t feel the mate bond, and that was why his words hurt less. “But…” Kara tried to insist, but he cut her off. “Fine…I will get the pack healer.” “No, it’s not necessary. It’s just a fever.” I tried taking a bite of the sausage, but the smell made me nauseous, and I put it back down. “Excuse me,” I said, standing up. “Where are you going?” Dante asked. “I’m not hungry,” 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 forgotten—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. “Alpha Dante, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said while completely ignoring my presence. “Always good to see you, Mark,” he said, returning the handshake. I stood there awkwardly as the two men continued to talk. The man didn’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 us—but I could still hear their voices. “So, Alpha, why didn’t you accept the marriage proposal?” he asked, as if I wasn’t in the room with them. “I’m not sure where that rumor came from. I already have a wife,” 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 Dante’s side. It was a live band playing one of my favorite songs. I closed my eyes as memories from years ago flooded back—when I used to perform on stages, traveling on tours. But after the incident, it felt like I lost my voice. “Luna, didn’t you use to sing?” I heard a voice from among the crowd, and my eyes snapped open. “Yes! Why don’t you sing for us?” another said. “Wait…what…I…” I tried to speak, but they cut me off. “Come on, one song! Don’t be shy. You’ve earned many awards for your singing.” It was true, but right now, I couldn’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 didn’t look at me with such disdain. “Sing!” 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 couldn’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 weren’t even mine anymore. “I…I…sorry. I…” 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 Dante’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. “Don’t move,” a voice said sternly. It wasn’t Dante’s—it was the pack’s healer. I blinked, watching him mix something in a small bowl. “You collapsed at the party,” he explained, not looking at me. “I can’t believe the Alpha called me for something so trivial. There are people in this pack who genuinely need my help, not…” 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. “Honestly, wasting my time on someone who’s probably just fine. It’s not like I have better things to do,” he said, as if I wasn’t lying right next to him. The room fell silent. After a few minutes, the door opened, and Dante stepped in. “What happened?” he asked the healer. “Nothing serious,” the healer said, waving his hand dismissively. “She’s been indoors too much. Likely a mix of stress and low energy. She’ll be fine after some rest and sunlight.” Dante crossed his arms. “She fainted in the middle of a party. That’s not nothing.” But the healer only sighed in frustration. “Alpha, I’ve told you what I think. If you don’t trust my judgment, perhaps you’d like to consult someone else. As I said, she just needs rest.” Dante’s jaw clenched as he thought for a moment. “Leave,” he ordered. The healer wasted no time gathering his things before leaving the room. When the door shut, the room fell silent again. I didn’t dare look at Dante—I was still staring at the ceiling—but I could feel his presence close. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” he finally asked. I closed my eyes as the headache worsened. “I’m fine,” 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 wouldn’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 wasn’t yelling like he used to. “My husband has been really cold and distant lately.” I overheard a conversation between two maids while I was walking down the hallway. They were whispering, but I could hear them clearly. “Do you have a child yet?” the older maid asked while the younger one shook her head. “I wanted to wait, but now… I don’t know. Maybe it was a mistake. He’s barely home, and when he is, it feels like we’re strangers.” “Ah, that’s just what happens with newlyweds. Men get restless, but trust me, once you give him a child, everything will change. He’ll return to his loving self. That’s how it’s always been.” 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 now… maybe… just maybe. That night, I found myself standing in front of Dante’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. “Dante,” I whispered. “Are you busy?” 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 move—until now. “If you are not busy, I was thinking…” I tugged on his shirt, silently praying he wouldn’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 then… 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 didn’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. “Lie down,” 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 wasn’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 didn’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. “I want to go to the beach,” I suddenly brought it up during breakfast. “I will arrange for us to go this weekend,” he said, looking at his phone. “No… just me. I want to go alone,” I said, and his eyes instantly snapped up to meet mine. “You want to go alone?” he repeated. “Why? Who do you want to meet?” “Why do you assume I want to meet someone?” I asked, but I was met with a cold glare, causing me to swallow nothing. “I heard your friend is in town.” 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 wasn’t the reason I was going to the beach. “I just want some time alone. I have been locked inside for too long. Didn’t the healer say that I needed more sunlight and fresh air?” I reminded him. He glared at me, then nodded. “Fine, I will make arrangements for a guard to accompany you.” 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 him—or at least the version of him that I had married. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’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, “The Blackwood family deserves to die.” A shiver ran down my spine, but before I could react, he raised the knife again, preparing to strike. “Hey!” 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. “Stay with me, miss,” the fisherman panicked, reaching out for his phone. Ah! He didn’t recognize me. Thank God. If he did, he would have also left me to die. But even that didn’t stop me from losing more blood until I lost consciousness. Chapter 4 Dante’s POV I was at a pack meeting when I got the call that Amaya had been stabbed—by not just anyone, but one of my own men. “What?” 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. “The wound was deep,” he started. “She lost a lot of blood. It will take at least a month for her to fully recover.” I frowned. “A month?” That didn’t make sense. With her wolf, she should be healed in a week at most. “There’s… something else.” The doctor hesitated. “Spit it out,” I growled. “Your wife was weeks pregnant, Alpha… but she lost the child due to the trauma.” Everything stopped. A ringing in my ear drowned out all other sound, and my eyes turned red. The doctor’s mouth was still moving, but I couldn’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. “You’re lying,” I snarled, my claws digging into his chest while my wolf howled in agony, wanting to break free. “She wasn’t pregnant! She would have told me!” “It’s still in the early stages… she must not have—” “She did this on purpose, didn’t she?” I cut him off. “She didn’t tell me because she planned to leave! She was going to run off with Ryder, wasn’t she?” I couldn’t think straight. This was Amaya’s fault. She had been distant, she wanted to go to the beach alone. She had let her guard down… 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 didn’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 wasn’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 wasn’t taking any chances. If she wanted to act emotionless, fine. But I wasn’t going to let her make another mistake—wasn’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. “I was doing you a favor, Alpha,” he choked out. “The Blackwood… they all deserve to die. She’s a—” I snapped his neck before he could finish. Though I felt I should have tortured him, should have made him suffer, I couldn’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. “Burn his body. Let it be a warning to anyone else who dares to defy me.” 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 didn’t turn around when I entered. “He’s dead,” I said. She didn’t respond. I clenched my fists, stepping closer. “I hunted him down myself. Snapped his neck like the traitor he was.” Still nothing. My jaw tightened. “Is that all you’re going to do? Just sit there and stare at moon like nothing happened?” Finally, she turned her head slightly. I flinched when I saw the emptiness in her eyes—she looked like a living corpse. “What do you want me to say, Alpha?” “You lost our child,” I growled, taking another step forward. “And you sit here as if you feel nothing.” Her lips pressed into a thin line. “What do you want me to do? Cry? Scream? You already decided this was my fault.” I scoffed. “Isn’t it?” She lowered her head. “Of course. Everything is always my fault.” My blood boiled, and I grabbed her by the arm, yanking her to her feet. “Don’t play games with me.” “Then let go.” I gritted my teeth, staring down at her, but then my eyes widened when my gaze reached her fingers—I saw her ring was missing. “Your ring… You took it off.” She looked at her hand, and when she saw it wasn’t there, she muttered, “Oh.” 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. “That’s it?” I snarled. “You take off our bond like it meant nothing, and all you can say is ‘oh’? If you hated me this much, you should have just left.” Her lips curved into a small, bitter smile. “Didn’t I try?” “You—” “But you wouldn’t let me, so why are you surprised? You chained me to you. Did you really think a ring would change that?” “That’s enough,” I said, shutting my eyes and shoving her back onto the bed. I took a step back, running a hand through my hair. “Put the ring back on.” “No.” “That wasn’t a request.” “I can’t, because I didn’t take it off. It must have fallen off somewhere at the beach,” she said, turning back to face the window. “I will go search for it,” I said, stepping back and running my hand through my hair. She didn’t answer. “Go to bed.” I clenched my jaw, and without another word, I left, slamming the door behind me. Chapter 5 Dante POV Five Years Ago – Flashback “Did you sleep well?” I asked, running my fingers through Amaya’s silky hair as her head rested on my lap. “No,” she pouted, turning her face up to look at me. I smirked, brushing a loose strand behind her ear. “And why is that, princess?” She huffed dramatically. “Because you weren’t there.” It had only been a short mission—three days at the border—but she acted as if I had been gone for months. I chuckled, trailing my fingers down her jaw. “I told you I’d come back.” “You’re always leaving,” she muttered, crossing her arms. “And one day, you won’t.” My smirk faltered. Amaya was the Alpha’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. “I will always come back to you.” She blinked, her emerald eyes searching mine for a moment before she whispered, “Promise?” I leaned down, brushing my lips against her forehead. “I swear it.” A small smile tugged at her lips, but I could still see the hesitation in her eyes. She didn’t like my life as a soldier, didn’t like the bloodshed or the risks. But she loved me enough to endure it. “Come with me next time,” she said, catching me off guard. I raised a brow. “What?” “On your next mission,” she said, propping herself up on her elbows. “I want to see what it’s like.” I laughed, shaking my head. “Absolutely not.” She scowled. “Why not?” “Because you’re the Alpha’s daughter,” I reminded her. “And your father would have my head if I let you anywhere near danger.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not a child, Dante.” “No, but you’re my princess,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to her palm. “And I won’t let anything happen to you.” She sighed in frustration but didn’t argue further. Instead, she curled up against me, resting her head on my chest. “Then don’t take so long next time,” 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. “I’m sorry.” 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. “She never apologizes,” 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 wasn’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 wouldn’t. She wouldn’t… she couldn’t. When I got to her room, I saw two guards standing outside. “Has she left her room?” was the first thing I asked. “No, Alpha. In fact, she has been asleep for a while now. Told us not to disturb her,” 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 hadn’t left. She was still here. But why wasn’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. “Something feels off,” 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. “Amaya,” I whispered, shaking her, but there was no response. “Amaya!” I shouted, shaking her harder, but still, no response. She wasn’t waking up. “No,” I whispered, backing away as my gaze shifted around the room, trying to pinpoint why—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. No… I stumbled back and rushed to her, shaking her violently this time. “Amaya! Wake up!” My hands were shaking as I checked the pulse in her wrist. I felt a pulse… but it was weak. Too weak. I turned to the guards at the door. “Get the healer! Get the doctor, NOW!” I watched the hours tick by as the healer worked on Amaya’s unconscious form. I stood by her bedside, clenching my fists while my wolf paced recklessly in my mind. “She’s stable,” the healer finally said, wiping sweat from his brow. “But her body is weak. It will take time before she wakes up, so she must be monitored closely.” I barely heard the last part before he bowed and left, leaving just the two of us alone. Right now, she looked so pale… like a ghost. I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed it before. I grabbed her wrist, feeling her faint pulse. “Look what you’ve done,” I muttered. How dare you try to leave me? “Isn’t this what you wanted?” Mako taunted. “Our mate almost died. Aren’t you supposed to be happy? You wanted this, didn’t you?” No. I shook my head. My breathing was becoming heavier, so I had to step back, but I almost stumbled. “I didn’t want her dead. I just… I just wanted her to suffer by my side.” She can’t leave me. Never. I won’t let that happen.	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2,768,625	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2768596}'	No	2025-03-03 19:11	active	2791	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	The brilliant lights in the hall dimmed, leaving a concentrated glow upon the stage. The bride and groom stood bathed in radiance—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 Landon—one of Salve City's most eligible bachelors, heir to one of its most powerful families—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 façade 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't—" 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. "I…" 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 wedding…" He trailed off, his gaze flicking back to the screen where yet another photo appeared—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. "…is 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 saintly—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 place—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 no—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, but—" 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 pages—photographs, so many photographs. Many were the same ones that had been displayed on the wedding screen, but these… 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 Valerie—she'll explain. This is all a misunderstanding. That night—she—" 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 ring—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 is—" "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 finger—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'm… her—" 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. "No… 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 trust—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 thought—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 resurfacing—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. … 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 earlier—her left cheek—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 understand—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 mother—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 beginning—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 dress—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 screen—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. "You… I…" 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." "You… 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 scene—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 all—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 screen—I had those taken! You think you deserve to marry into wealth? You're nothing! A crow pretending to be a phoenix—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 care—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 wedding—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 laugh—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 house—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 tranquility—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 want—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. … 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, I… I want to ask you something." "Go ahead." Deidre took a deep breath, summoning all the strength she had left before speaking, "Is it… 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. "No… 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 field—finance—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. … 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 soirées. 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 immediately—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 Micah—being an expert in jewelry design—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	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	beokn.com	IMAGE		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-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474561798_1826350784803137_8056713056568368066_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Ekh93uAvouMQ7kNvgE6tsUc&_nc_oc=AdiZYr3Lqr1Hz-v6ZnIAkRIFM4ITdHsgE4EpiE4ZBonweksNugPz1zdXaOXas9BY0fd7TMY8gabUTHtK76ChnIOQ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ADlJQ6m5bL4NlR4Omuel0iZ&oh=00_AYD2KtdUxdTdKZJNoWqOUXAqWq4eHZys3sndWFu2d6lzCA&oe=67CC26AF	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,766,931	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 18:52	active	2790		The National Parks and National Forests belong to the American People. Let’s love and cherish them. #exploreminnesota #katykellynounart #katykellynounart #inspiredbynature #superiornationalforest	VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	http://instagram.com/katykellynounart	Katy Kelly Noun Art	https://www.facebook.com/katykellynounart/	162	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram profile	instagram.com	VIDEO		http://instagram.com/katykellynounart	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481072748_1734603434066242_9075499518928080797_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nIlomzsDJaEQ7kNvgHr61SZ&_nc_oc=AdjG35bZcNtEYqUSFjq1IYZzdciiKQvuQ-hDE12_C4ZW7iNkBeBOxf7YzlqciD55oNtJ71kt9gl4mKwWiBnnIqSN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Ad3wSlbq8ALD1Sq6Vyt6cGW&oh=00_AYBg1wwwTOqYWOoaeDNr3ZUFCPdRD-KoUuo44xDv_J1a8g&oe=67CC1BBD	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Katy Kelly Noun Art	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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