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2,142,924	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2143280}'	Yes	2024-10-10 21:18	active	1606	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	She’s just my best friend, my husband said. What kind of friend would claim a married man as HER husband just to “get some support in a strange city”?! From the moment I met her, I should have thrown her out! But no, they told me I was “overreacting.” Overreacting?! If I really had, maybe I wouldn’t have woken up alone, only to find my husband hugging his so-called best friend in the middle of the night! Chapter 1 The beginning of it all. (ARIELLE’S POV) The scent of the dinner wafted through the room, as I focused on my husband, Jared. His dark hair falling just right, framing his straight nose and sharp jawline. Even in his casual clothes, the man had an undeniable presence—broad shoulders, a sculpted chest. He could’ve walked right out of a magazine, yet here he was, with me. It was our anniversary, and in commemoration of that, I had suggested that we had an indoor dinner– just the two of us. Despite his usual aloof self, Jared had created time from his usual busy work schedule, and that was a gesture I considered lovely. Especially when he looked up at me with those smoldering eyes, it was hard to stay upset. I had chosen to sit across from him instead of our usual dining position–beside him because I wanted to see all of his reactions when I finally broke the good news. Yep, I just discovered that I was pregnant yesterday from our family doctor, and I stalled the news, so I could break it to Jared during the anniversary dinner - Whatever way would have been better? Celebrating an anniversary, and the conception of a baby. Sounds like a double party to me. “This meal is delicious, Arielle,” Jared commented, interrupting my line of thoughts. “I don't understand why I'm always awed by your culinary skill. You are a chef after all.” I flashed him the most beautiful smile I could muster, feeling flustered by his compliment. “Thank you, Jared. That means a lot coming from you.” He smiled back, but his was not as wide and bright as mine. “You didn't have to make so many dishes, though. Two or three would have been just enough. It's only the two of us after all.” I clicked my tongue, there he went again. I was just about to reply to him, to tell him that it was our anniversary and I wanted to make it special, when his phone rang, the shrill sound disrupting the calm atmosphere. Jared's face fell when he looked at the screen, and then his expression turned apologetic. “Excuse me, Arielle. I have to take this. It’s work,” he said and rose to his feet. I felt a lump form in my throat, as I nodded in understanding, trying to mask my disappointment. “It’s fine, go on. I'll be here,” I said, my voice coming out flatter than I intended. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear. I'll get you new jewelry, whatever you want,” he called out as he rushed out of the dining room. I reclined back on my seat, frustrated and disappointed. It’s 9 o’clock. Who leaves their home at this time for work? It’s our special day for crying out loud, and making it up to me with jewelry? My eyes inadvertently rolled. Men need to learn that gifts are not always the key to a woman's heart; quality attention is. I sighed for the umpteenth time. He hadn’t mentioned when he’d return, as usual. Would he even remember our anniversary when he was done with work? The food once appealing, now looked unappetizing. Our anniversary dinner, ruined by a work call. I got to the sitting room to wait for Jared. Pregnancy reactions made me drowsy, and even before I knew it, I fell asleep and woke up with a start hours later. My eyes groggily opened to an eerily calm house. I was still on the couch, alone. Looking up at the clock, my heart sank. It was a few minutes past 12 o'clock. A painful realization dawned on me: our anniversary was over. Anger enveloped me as I realized that Jared wasn't home yet. I had been so excited to share my news with him, but now, that too was ruined. I walked over to the dining room, the remnants of our anniversary dinner still laid out on the table. Fine, guess this was the karma for me, a star chef, taking a two-day leave and not cooking for my appreciative guests but cooking for my husband. Sighing in resignation, I cleared the table and sent some of the food to the trash. In the early morning, I arrived at the restaurant, the familiar chaos of the kitchen greeted me like an old friend, and so did my colleagues. Their expression is a mix of concern and curiosity. “Arielle! You came so early! I thought you were taking a two-day off.” I forced a smile, still feeling the pain of my ruined anniversary dinner. The kitchen could be my refuge and cooking was my escape. Once I returned to work, my hands started to be busy in the rhythm of chopping and sizzling. Hours later, a waitress rushed into the kitchen, a distressed look on her face. “Ma, there's a customer insisting on seeing you,” she said, her voice urgent. “What's the problem?” I asked, surprised. “She wouldn't say, and she's being really rude,” the waitress responded. “She says she wants to see the chef in charge.” I hurriedly took off my apron, washed my hands, and followed the waitress out to the dining area. “Hi, I'm Arielle, the head chef,” I said, stopping in front of the customer's table. “Sorry you’re upset. Can you tell me what’s wrong with the food?” The customer, a pregnant woman, looked me up and down, her eyes blazing hot with anger. “Wrong? Everything! Your food tastes so bland,” she spat. “I can't believe you call yourself a chef.” I listened patiently, and afterward, I defended my cuisine, explaining our menu and ingredients, but she remained adamant. “I don't care about anything you say,” she snapped. “I'm going to wait for my husband to arrive and have you fired.” What? I slightly frowned and maintained my professional demeanor. “Ma'am, I assure you that our food is prepared to the highest standard and with the best ingredients. If you'd like, I can make it up to you with a complimentary dish of your choice.” The woman flipped her hair nonchalantly. “That won't be necessary. I still want you fired for almost poisoning me and my unborn child. Just wait for my husband to arrive and he will have you dealt with.” I took a deep breath, excused myself and headed back to my office. The whole thing was absurd. I’d been a chef for years and seen my share of unreasonable complaints, but this was something else. Who did she think she was and who was her almighty husband could have me fired on a whim? I was just about to get back to work when a knock sounded on my office door. “He’s here, Ma’am,” the waitress called out. I sighed. It was already a rough day, and I only hoped to wrap up this nonsense quickly. I composed myself and stepped out. Whatever power this husband of hers thought he had, I wasn’t worried. I knew my work, and I knew my worth. But as I walked back into the dining area, my breath hitched as I caught sight of a tall figure speaking to the woman. She saw me first and informed her husband, gesturing to me. And before he turned to face me fully, I already knew who the man was. A burning sensation filled my chest as I stared at the gorgeous face that I slept with most nights. It was Jared, my husband! Chapter 2 The third wheel (ARIELLE POV) Oh well, color me surprised! I blinked severally to ensure that I was not seeing wrongly. My eyes widened in shock, my mind trying to process the scene before me. My husband, Jared, was standing beside another woman, a pregnant woman who claimed to be his wife, in a restaurant where I worked. The woman’s words earlier reverberated in my ears, “my husband will have you fired!” My heart pounded, breathing suddenly becoming difficult. I felt like I had just been punched in the gut. I took a step forward, my voice raspy and barely a whisper, “Jared?” Jared met my gaze, his composure unwavering. “Hey, Arielle,” his tone was disturbingly casual, as if it were completely normal to be caught with another woman who’d called him her husband. My eyes narrowed at him, as I expected him to offer me an explanation. Before Jared could respond, Sofia stepped forward, her face a mask of surprisement, “Oh, you must be Arielle! I’m so sorry for the confusion. I’m Sofia, Jared’s old friend.” Looking at my expressionless face, Sofia continued, her voice syrupy sweet, “Jared’s been so kind, helping me get settled in town. I just returned from abroad and I’m going through some tough times. He’s been such a wonderful support.” My eyes never left Jared's face, my gaze unnerving. “Support?” I asked, unable to mask the disbelief in my tone. Jared nodded. “Yes, support. She's pregnant, new in town and almost helpless. She needed someone to talk to and to help her navigate her way around town. I was just being that friend.” Still, I was not convinced, and my eyes shifted to Sofia, who stood there with an air of vulnerability, her eyes pleading for understanding. “And the child?” Jared frowned and his voice became serious, “Of course not! The child isn't mine, Arielle.” I relaxed a bit, deciding to trust my husband. Just then, Sofia cleared her throat to get my attention. “Umm… Arielle, right? I apologize for my behavior earlier. I was totally out of line, you see, being a pregnant woman in a new city alone isn’t easy. I needed some support, so I may have exaggerated Jared’s role a bit. You understand, don’t you? How do we women sometimes need to feel protected?” she said innocently. I looked away, reluctant to accept her apology. She was rude, claimed my husband as hers, and even threatened to have me fired. But Jared noticed my reluctance, and signaled me to forgive her. “It's okay, I forgive you,” I mumbled, but then my eyes caught the glint of a vibrant blue gem on her wrist. Wait a second, is that the Blue Diamond limited edition? The one I glimpsed in Jared’s bag last night? I thought it was an anniversary gift for me! Sofia was definitely aware of my stare. She turned to me, making puppy eyes. “Oh this bracelet? It’s from Jared. Arielle, surely you don't mind Jay-Jay getting his best friend a little gift for coming back home?” Jay-Jay? Seriously? I smiled coldly, my lips pressed together in a thin line. I didn't bother responding to Sofia's question, instead, I turned to Jared and said, “I need to speak with you in private, in my office.” Without waiting for a response, I turned and strode away. As I left, Sofia’s voice drifted after me, saccharine-sweet: “Jay-Jay, I had no idea your wife was this sensitive.” Jared trailed behind me, our footsteps echoing in the hallway that led to my office. I pushed open the door and stepped inside, Jared following closely behind. Alone with him now, I turned to face him, my face bearing a displeased expression. “What's going on, Jared? Why are you buying gifts for a pregnant woman, a pregnant woman who claimed to be your wife a few minutes ago.” “Arielle, I promise, it's not what it seems like. The bracelet was for you. I just…I just didn't want to hurt Sofia's feelings. Like I said, she's going through a tough time.” “And you expect me to believe that? You abandoned our anniversary dinner, promising me a compensation gift, and now I see you giving it to another woman?” Jared's face turned pleading. “Please, understand. I'll get you another one, a much better one.” I shook my head, my expression cold. “It's not always about gifts, Jared. Occasionally, your aloof nature makes me wonder if you're invested in our relationship and marriage, as much as I am.” Jared's face fell, his expression hurt. “Come on, don't talk like that. I am committed to our marriage too.” I ignored his words and went on. “It doesn't seem so most times because I don't understand why you're unwilling to hurt another woman's feelings, without caring if your actions hurt me, your wife.” Before he could respond, a thought struck me. “Jared, did you even come home last night after you left?” He nodded. “I did. You were asleep on the couch. I didn’t want to disturb you. I just left. Return to the company to continue working.” He’s really busy. I felt a stab of guilt but pushed it aside, focusing on what mattered now. “Will you be home tonight?” “Sure.” “Alright, let's see later at home and talk about this then.” Jared tried to apologize again, but I cut him off. I was too tired for arguments, and besides, I had to go back to prepping for lunch service. He finally placed a feathered kiss on my forehead before stepping out. A sharp exhale, after Jared left. There would be time to sort through my feelings later. For now, I needed to get back to work and focus on something I could control. After regaining composure, I made my way out of the office to continue my work. By the time my shift was over, the sun had dipped below the horizon. I was tidying up when my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen and discovered it was Ashley, my best friend. A smile broke out on my face, and I answered the phone. “Hey, where are you?” Ashley’s voice sounded from the other end. I was taken aback by her unusually serious tone. Ashley never directly called me at worktime, why was she asking? “Still at work, about to leave though. What’s going on? You sound worried.” I asked. Ashley’s next response sent a chill down my spine. “Arielle, I just saw Jared and a pregnant woman going home together…” Chapter 3 When doubt creeps in. (ARIELLE'S POV) “Ashley, I need to go. Thank you for the information. I will call you back later.” After the phone call with Ashley and figured out the home she said was actually my mother-in-law’s house, I tried my best to handle my whirling thoughts. Jared was always considerate and meticulous. I thought I knew this man after three years’ marriage. However, I’ve never seen him as emotional as he was in the restaurant, nor have I seen him break his words, twice in a row. He promised to wait for me at our home, now this? I sighed as I stepped down from my car. Upon arriving at the old mansion, nothing prepared me for the sight I was met with. Sofia was seated comfortably in the sitting room, and she was not alone. She was with Jared's mother, and they were conversing and laughing happily. While Jared was sitting alone on the single sofa next to them. “What’s going on here?” I managed to ask, a lump forming on my throat. As I approached, Jared rose smoothly, reaching for my coat. “Mom wanted to see Sofia, so I brought her over,” he explained, his tone measured. “You could have told me first,” I said quietly. Jared’s eyes met mine briefly, a flicker of apology passing through them, before he went upstairs with my coat. Great. Now I had to deal with this on my own. Sofia turned to me with a carefree look, like she owned the house. “Oh, hey, Arielle. I’m glad you are home. Jared's Mom and I were catching up.” My eyes grew suspicious as I tried not to glare at Sofia. What is she doing here? Why is my mother-in-law so friendly with her? Jared’s mother looked up at me, her expression neutral, not as warm as when she was talking to Sofia. “Welcome back,” she said curtly, then turned her attention back to Sofia. “Go on, dear, you were saying?” I was hurt and embarrassed as I stood there, feeling like an outsider in my own home. I thought I knew Jared too well, but now I was terrified that he might not have told me the entire truth about his relationship with Sofia. Because, how come she was merely his friend but had such a close relationship with his mother? “Oh, I was saying,” Sofia's shrill voice interrupted my thoughts. Why do I think she was intentionally being loud so I could hear her? “I returned from abroad to celebrate Jared’s birthday, and I met Arielle at the restaurant earlier. It was our first time meeting,” Sofia continued. I sneered at her forced cheerfulness. I hope she also told Jared’s mother how rude she was, how she threatened to have me fired, and how she claimed Jared's was her husband. “Oh, really? That was nice,” Jared's mother said, obviously intrigued by the conversation. “I still can't believe Jared married a mere chef. I mean, don’t get me wrong, but it is not exactly a prestigious job and not befitting for the wife of a billionaire.” She was smiling brightly, but I could see the challenge in her eyes. She wanted me to react. I raised an eyebrow and gave her a cool laugh. “True. Jared always complains that I cook for the guests, not for him. It really takes skill to satisfy a billionaire’s taste every single day.” Sofia’s lips twitched, and I could see her struggling to keep her composure. “Oh, I didn’t mean to belittle your skills or your profession. I just think Jared could have... chosen differently.” I shrugged slightly. “He did. He chose me.” Sophia was choked. “All right, all right. Arielle. Sofia was merely voicing her opinion,” Jared’s mother chipped in. “Indeed,” I said, sarcastically. She then turned to Sofia, “Okay Sofia, dear, let's not talk about Arielle anymore and focus on our previous discussion. Tell me everything about your trip.” I rolled my eyes and took a seat. However, Sofia’s words caught my attention: “So I arrived in town last night…” Last night. The same time Jared had supposedly been working late. The rest of their conversation faded into background noise as my mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle. Sofia glanced away, seemingly unbothered by my silence. As the pieces fell into place, a realisation hit me: the call Jared received last night was not about work, but because he went to pick Sofia at the airport. My heart sank into my stomach. Why did he have to lie? Slowly, doubts about my marriage crept in. Do I really know the man I'm married to, or are there things about him I still need to know? Jared’s mother suddenly turned to face me, a smile on her face. “Arielle, in case you have been wondering how come I know Sofia, I will tell you now. Sofia and Jared have been friends for a long time. They share a special bond, and I wish you could get along with her as well as Jared does.” I forced a smile, not trusting myself to speak. Get along with Sofia? I couldn’t even stand being in the same room with her. “I’ll go prepare your favorites, ladies,” Jared’s mother said, getting up and heading to the kitchen. The moment she left, Sofia turned to me, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, Arielle, did I tell you Jared and I go way, way back? Oh, I didn't? You see, we met as early as in kindergarten, and he's been chasing me for twenty years,” Sofia narrated. My eyes widened in surprise. Why didn't Jared tell me all of these? “Can you believe it? Twenty whole years! Jared liked me a whole lot and used to do anything I asked of him. We went to prom together, and he even carved our initials on the bark of an old willow tree in the park. I was a beautiful girl, I still am, and I had numerous suitors back then. Jared was so jealous that he used to even fight off any male that got close to me.” Sofia continued. As Sofia spoke of their past, a mix of curiosity and jealousy churned in my stomach. I pushed the feelings down, forcing my lips into a polite curve. “That's the past, Sofia, He’s married to me now and nothing would change that.” Sofia’s smile faltered for a second, but she didn’t stop. “And yet, he ended up marrying you just a month after I travelled abroad…” “That’s enough, Sofia. I’m sure that my wife doesn’t need all those details,” Jared’s voice suddenly sounded from behind, interrupting Sofia. As I turned to face him, his gaze darted away. Chapter 4 Trouble in paradise (ARIELLE’S POV) While Sofia clamped her mouth shut, startled by Jared’s sudden appearance, I slowly rose from the chair, still reeling from the shock of all I had heard. I was heartbroken that I had to hear all of that from Sofia, who also doubled as my husband’s life crush. I couldn’t believe it. I got to Jared and ignored him completely as I walked past, but he tried to talk to me. “Arielle, please listen–” he said, trying to reach for me. I shrugged his hand off and walked upstairs, my eyes welled up with tears. I got to the room and collapsed on the bed, numb, exhausted and disappointed. Just then, a text arrived on my phone. It was from Jared: “I’m sorry.” I sighed and put the phone off, before falling into a turbulent sleep. The next morning, I woke up to an empty bed, and the absence of Jared felt heavy. He must have slept in the guest room again. Or worse—what if he had slept in the same room as Sofia? The thought made my heart race, but I quickly shook it off. Doubts might be creeping in, but I knew the man I married. After getting ready for work, I headed downstairs and found Jared waiting for me in the foyer. “Hey, good morning,” he said, planting a kiss on my cheek. “Yeah, good morning,” I responded, trying to act cool too. “Look, Arielle, about yesterday. Sofia’s just struggling with the pregnancy because it's her first. It's making her become needy and overly pampered. Please don't take it too personally. Don't believe everything she said. Kindly forgive her,” Jared pleaded. Instead of softening my heart like the words were intended to, they only made me bitter at the fact that my husband was in defense of another woman. Speaking of pregnancy, was he aware that I too was pregnant? Of course not, he had prioritized his ex over me on the day I was supposed to break the news to him. “I’m going to work now, Jared. And when I get back, I would rather not see that woman here again.” My day at work was uneventful, a blur of cooking and cleaning, and soon it was closing time. I was in my office wrapping things up when a knock echoed on the door. “Who is it?” I called out. “Rebecca, Ma,” my junior chef replied. “A hot man is waiting outside for you with a massive bouquet, “ she announced, and I didn't miss the giggle in her voice. I paused, confused. Did I have an appointment? I quickly grabbed my bag. “I’m coming out now.” As I stepped outside, Jared stood by the entrance, bouquet in hand. I was momentarily taken back, but regained myself and swirled around to face Rebecca. “Unfortunately it’s not some hot man, just my husband,” I said. I wouldn't blame her, Jared had only visited my new place of work the day of Sofia's saga, so it’s reasonable no one here was acquainted with him. “Hey, what are you doing here, Mr Smith?” I asked, stopping right in front of Jared. “Apologising to Mrs Smith for being a jerk. Arielle, I am so sorry I didn't tell you about Sofia earlier. I have no excuse. Can you forgive me? To make it up to you, how about a weekend getaway date at our first house?” Jared said, all smiles. At that moment, my heart softened and every fiber of anger I harbored within me ebbed away. Our first house—a cozy penthouse we had chosen and decorated together after we married—held so many good memories. It was seldom visited later due to its long distance from my current workplace. To say I was pleased was an understatement, I was beyond the moon with excitement. Finally, a vacation that will help me forget all the dramas of the past days and who knows, it could be the perfect place to break the news of my pregnancy to Jared! “So, what do you say, Mrs Smith?” Jared inquired, looking at me expectantly. “I’d say,” I blinked, “Mr Smith does know how to please a woman.” He melted me in his kiss. “Thank you love, for forgiving me and accepting the offer,” Jared said, a smile spreading across his face. “Here is your flower,” he handed me the bouquet. I accepted it, inhaling the fragrant lavender—my favorite. “Thank you,” I mouthed. Jared led me toward the parking lot, opening the door for me before getting in on his side. As we drove to our penthouse, anticipation bubbled within me. An hour later, we pulled up at the parking lot of the house. It was located inside a reputable estate. But as we alighted, something didn't seem right. I tried to place what it was and a few seconds of racking my brain brought it to my cognizance as I noticed a light on in one of the rooms. “Jared, I think someone’s in the house,” I said as we approached the front door. “What do you mean?” he asked, a puzzled look on his face. “Look,” I pointed, “the light is on.” “Come on, Arielle. You are being paranoid. You probably forgot to turn off the lights the last time we were here,” Jared said, waving off my observation. I was just about to protest when the front door swung open, and there stood Sofia, a bright smile on her face. Jared and I halted in our tracks as we exchanged surprised looks. “What the hell? What are you doing here?” I snarled at Sofia, unable to control my rage this time. “Take a chill pill, Arielle. I got the address of the place from Jared's mum. She asked me to live here pending when I get a place of my own. She insisted the cozy environment would be good for my pregnancy.” Sofia explained. “You have no right to be here! This place is for Jared and me. I can’t believe she gave you the keys,” I shot back, furious. The hell, why do I keep seeing this lady at every turn I take? “Oh, my bad, I didn’t know you two would visit here anytime soon... I'm so sorry, I'll leave right away,” Sofia said, feigning a sorry look that I could tell was absolutely fake. “Arielle, let’s go inside first,” Jared suggested. I glared at Sofia before storming inside, storming past her at the door. “Sofia, this place is like a safe haven for me and Arielle, and we cherish it so dearly, especially Arielle, that seeing another face in it seems a bit improper,” Jared began in a calm tone, the moment we were all inside the house. It was almost like he was being cautious with his words and didn't want to hurt her. “It’s fine, I understand. I’ll leave right away,” Sofia said, putting on a pathetic act. “That will be gladly appreciated,” I said, feeling no atom of pity for her because I could see through her emotional game. But that wasn't the case for Jared, he doesn't want a pregnant woman to suffer so much, so he intervened. “Arielle, that won't be nice. It's late, and she's pregnant,” he said in a placating tone. And then he turned to Sofia, “You can spend the night here, and we will discuss the issue of your housing in the morning.” Sofia shook her head, pretending to be weak. “No, I wouldn’t want to cause any tension between you two.” “No, she's fine with it,” Jared said and turned to give me a pleading look. “Right, Arielle?” I ignored them both, deciding to take a tour of the house to calm my nerves. As I walked through, I noticed the changes. Jared and my decorations have all been discarded and replaced by different designs. Anger rose from the deepest part of me as I knew no one else would be responsible for the act, except Sofia. Ready to confront her, I marched back to the sitting room, my vision blinded by raw fury. I had just gotten to the sitting room, when Sofia suddenly squealed and rushed up to Jared, snatching the bouquet in his hand. I must have left it in the car, and Jared had thought to bring it inside for me. Just when I was about to yell at Sofia to hand me my flowers, she exclaimed, “Oh, Jared, you are so sweet. I can't believe you still remember my favorite flower…” Chapter 5 Having to deal with a bitchy third wheel (ARIELLE'S POV) I stopped in my tracks at Sofia’s words. Did she just say her “favorite flower?” “The bouquet, hand it over. It is mine, Jared got it for me.” I said, smiling coldly. Sofia sneered and turned to Jared. “Jay-Jay, the flower is for me, right? Remember, back then during high school days, you used to gift me lavender flowers when you came to pick me up on prom nights. When you called me your best friend, Jay?” Jared looked thorn, as he looked from me to Sofia. I couldn't believe he was even contemplating it! That flower was mine for Christ’s sake, he should simply ask her to hand it back to me, the right owner. “Ummm… Arielle, let Sofia have it. I will get you another one tomorrow, I promise,” Jared finally said. My mouth fell open in surprise. I couldn’t believe my ears. Yet again, Jared had chosen his “best friend” over me? “You are unbelievable, Jared!” I exclaimed. Sofia turned and smirked at me, a triumphant look in her eyes. Only I could see her because she had her back to Jared. “I can’t stand this,” I said, raising my hands in mock surrender. “You two can have the house to yourselves, I will look for a hotel to crash in.” I turned around and stormed off to the place where I kept my bag, ready to leave. As expected, Jared appeared beside me, his face apologetic. “Arielle, you don’t always have to lose your cool. She’s pregnant, and I heard pregnancy hormones affect women’s behavior a lot.” I wanted to scream and ask him what about me? Was I not pregnant too? And then the bitter reality dawned on me that yet again, my chance of breaking the news of my pregnancy to Jared had been ruined. “Say something love, please,” Jared frowned. “I have nothing to say. Leave my way, I have to get a hotel before it gets too late,” I finally said, making to walk past him. “I’m truly sorry, Wifey. Fine, how about I make us dinner? I know you hate making dinner at night, so I’m volunteering to take up the task tonight.” I sighed, as I considered his offer. I hated cooking dinner late, and I hate eating out too. If I sleep at a hotel tonight, I am definitely going to eat out. Reluctantly, I accepted Jared’s offer. Making dinner will be the perfect punishment for Jared, as he will have to do the dishes afterward. And besides, deep in my heart I wouldn’t want to leave my husband alone with Sofia. I was just about to let him know that I had accepted his offer when Sofia spoke from behind me. “Why would you offer to cook, Jared? Cooking is a domestic chore, and is meant for women alone. You see, I have been working hard all day, cleaning this whole house and putting away decorations I found Medieval and out of vogue. I’m so tired and can’t lift a pin, else, I would have offered to do the cooking. As for you, Jared, I’m sure you are tired as well. Being a billionaire CEO is no easy feat, and after a long day at work, you deserve to rest. Arielle, here, should do the cooking. She seems so energetic and even ready to get into a fight, the energy will be a lot useful if she uses it to make us dinner. Besides, she is a domestic worker and cooks for a living.” I was dumbstruck as I listened to Sofia ramblings. With the way it spoke, a stranger would have mistaken her for the mistress of the house. Jared must have realized that Sofia was crossing the line because he immediately intervenes. “That’s enough, Sofia. You can’t speak to my wife in that manner. Do not go to that extent next time,” Jared chided. Although I was not all too satisfied with his tone, I was glad that Jared had finally spoken up and put Sofia in her place. Finally, my turn to make faces at her. Sofia immediately puts on a hurt expression. “I can’t believe this, Jared. I wasn’t being rude to her, I was merely telling the truth! You have changed a lot since you got married, Jared. You have forgotten the bond we used to share!” “I’m sorry if I hurt you, Sofia. But…” I didn’t wait for Jared to finish as I walked off, leaving them to themselves. I was utterly disappointed in Jared. This minute he scolded her, the other, he is trying to pacify her. I arrived in the kitchen and began to take out the ingredients for dinner preparation. I intended to make macaroni, chicken, and cheese. A few minutes into it, Jared stepped into the kitchen, looking remorseful. “I would like to help with dinner preparation, Arielle,” he said, coming to stand beside me. I knew telling him no will be of no use as he will only grow persistent, so I merely shrugged and carried on with what I was doing. “What are we having,” Jared asked. I knew he was trying to initiate a conversation because a mere glance at the ingredients on the kitchen counter could tell anyone what we were having. “Macaroni, chicken and cheese,” I said simply. I was in a complicated mood, and in no way interested in a conversation with him. After getting the ingredients ready and having placed the macaroni on fire, I turned to Jared, a serious look on my face. “For the last time, Jared, I want you to clarify your relationship with Sofia.” Jared sighed and took my hands in his, caressing them softly. “I promise you, Arielle, Sofia and I are just good friends. I might have a crush on her back then in high school, but that was all there was to it.” I nodded, and took my hands from his as I went to check on the food on fire. Jared helped with the remaining preparation of the food and a few minutes later, dinner was ready. I set the table, while Jared cleaned the kitchen after me. “I will go call Sofia,” he said to me, as I settled in the dining room to eat dinner. I nodded, without looking up, my attention fixated on my food. Seconds later, I heard approaching footsteps and I knew it was Sofia and Jared. I refused to look up, focusing on my food. I heard Sofia pull the chair opposite me, and settled in it. “This smells nice, I hope it tastes nice too,” Sofia said, as she uncovered her food. Jared sat down on the seat beside me, and soon, everyone was digging into their plates. Suddenly, Sofia made a throaty sound and the next second she was on her feet as she scurried away from the dinning. Jared went in hot pursuit, while I sat back, wondering what was happening. I didn’t have to wonder for long because Jared and Sofia returned minutes later, with Jared looking worried, and Sofia looking pale. “What happened?” I inquired, looking from Jared to Sofia. “What happened is that you tried to poison me, making it the second time. First, it was at the restaurant, and now, in your house. What did I ever do to you?” Sofia said, feigning tears. “I don’t understand. Why would I poison you? Jared was in the kitchen with me, and I served everyone the same food,” I said defensively. “You added milk to the macaroni, and I am allergic to milk!” Sofia yelled. “That’s right, Arielle. Sofia is allergic to milk. You shouldn’t have added it to the meal,” Jared said. I was too stunned to look at Jared. We were in the kitchen together, and he saw me use the ingredients, milk was never part of them. I rose to my feet, having lost appetite. “Just for the records, Sofia, I never used milk in that dish. As a matter of fact, that’s my milk–free recipe. You can ask any of my customers in the restaurant. But what difference does it make? You already decided that I poisoned you. Good night,” I said, smiling coldly before exiting the dining room. Chapter 6 When he chose her over me! (ARIELLE'S POV) I retired to the room upstairs, my head throbbing with a migraine. I couldn’t believe what had just happened in the dining room. Jared didn’t even scold Sofia for insinuating that I poisoned her. He knew me too well, that I wouldn’t hurt a fly, not to mention a pregnant woman. I didn’t like Sofia, alright, but the last thing I wound ever do was hurt her. She must be rejoicing now, knowing that her plan to cause a rift between me and Jared had worked. We couldn’t even have dinner in peace. Her presence is always disrupting the peace of my marriage. I sighed and collapsed on the bed, wondering what to do to get Sofia out of Jared and I’s life. Realizing that I was feeling sleepy again due to my pregnancy, I got off the bed and walked into the bathroom for my night shower. After that, I slumped on the bed in exhaustion. I didn’t know how long I slept, but I woke up with a dry throat and a thirsty tongue yearning for water. I got off the bed, slipped my legs into my flip-flops and made my way downstairs, to the kitchen. As I ascended the stairs and approached the hallway to the kitchen, I heard voices. Getting closer, I realized it was Jared and Sofia talking. My face frowned in disapproval as I looked at the grandfather clock at the far corner, and it read 1 o’clock in the morning. Why the hell was Jared up by that time and talking to her? He was supposed to be in bed with me. Just then, Sofia’s voice filtered to my ears, it was not just that sweet voice, but her words. I stopped in my tracks as I listened to her. “What were you thinking when you got married to such a tough woman like Arielle, Jared? She is mean and lacks human sympathy. Didn’t you see how she was unconcerned about having me thrown out, at night? She is not only mean, but inconsiderate too for making you pick her up late from work. You should be resting after a stressful day at work and not playing the role of a driver to her.” “She didn’t ask me to, Sofia. I did it willingly. She is my wife after all,” I heard Jared say. I scoffed, at least he said a word in defense of me this time. “You have changed, Jared. This isn’t you. What has that woman done to you?” Sofia’s shrill voice cried out. “Stop it, Sofia. For someone with a failed marriage, you have no right giving hot takes or interfering in mine. Our past is over, just let it remain so.” “But you know it Jared, you know I divorced my husband because of you!” My eyes widened. What the hell? What did Sofia mean by that? “No, you didn’t! Don’t drag me into your divorce story!” Jared snapped, his voice laced with fury. I could feel the heat of his anger—it didn’t ease the weight in my chest. I had ever seen him act like this, so much of… rawest emotion. Then I heard a sob escape Sofia’s throat. And soon, her sobs grew into a cry. I moved closer. To my consternation, Sofia had moved into Jared’s arms, crying, as she held on to him tightly. I was infuriated and disgusted when I saw Jared wrap his arms around her, consoling her. Angry, and my thirst momentarily forgotten, I hurried back upstairs and began to pack my things. I needed to leave. I have had just enough of Jared and Sofia’s excesses. After packing, I slipped out of my robe into a more decent clothing before grabbing my handbag and making my way out. I walked towards the stairs, and just at the entrance, I saw Sofia standing, obviously waiting for me. There was a smirk on her face, and a malicious glint in her eyes. I decided to keep my emotions in check and maintain composure. I will avoid confrontation with Sofia as much as I can. All I was concerned about was leaving. I ascended the stairs, and as expected, Sofia blocked my path. “I have no strength for this, Sofia. Kindly leave the way,” I said, my voice firm. “And if I don’t? You think you can try to kill me and go Scott Free?” Sofia asked, hands akimbo. “Come off it, Jared is not here, so you might as well drop the act. There was no milk in the food, and what you did back there at the dinning was merely a stunt to draw Jared’s attention to yourself, like the attention starved kitten that you are. Now, leave my way, I have no time for your drama.” “You just refused to see the reality didn’t you? Alright, you may pass,” Sofia said and made way for me. I sneered and walked straight past her. “If we were both in danger, who do you think Jared would save first?” Sofia suddenly asked. “What?” I didn’t have the time to process what she meant, because the next minute, I felt a push on my back and lost balance, skidding off the stairs to land at its base. I let out a loud guttural scream, and Sofia must have heard Jared’s approaching step because she quickly rushed to me and laid down beside me, making groaning sounds like we fell together. God, this woman was despicable! I wanted to shout, to expose her, but the pain was too intense - especially in my abdomen. Oh God, the baby! Panic surged through me, and another scream followed. Sofia echoed my cry, louder, trying to steal Jared’s attention. Jared rushed in. His eyes flicked back and forth between us, confusion written all over him. I couldn’t speak, but my eyes begged him. Please, help me. Help our baby. For a moment, I thought he understood. He immediately rushed to me, but just as I was expecting him to carry me up, he halted and turned to Sofia instead. Before I slipped into unconsciousness, all I recalled was Jared saving Sofia instead of me.	LEARN_MORE	https://nvwibcnshop.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	202	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	nvwibcnshop.com	DCO		https://nvwibcnshop.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14537&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/t39.35426-6/461723962_1244966003355075_5213857567336569457_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=YRc2Id650KwQ7kNvgG5TVvJ&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ATVFfr2N-zo0cxzPn0gsCFO&oh=00_AYB8AFN8jO1h1FWQqziQ2fI6-_S8xJJLVNwi-oS37nfUyw&oe=670E502E	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,142,792	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2143256}'	No	2024-10-10 21:18	active	1606	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	Debra gasped and opened her eyes. Everything in front of her was strikingly familiar. This place was Juan and her home. They had been married for a month, but Juan had rarely visited her. She remembered that Juan was attending a land auction, and due to the occasion, he had to bring her along. But this was all five years ago. 'How could it be? ' she thought, deeply confused, 'Am I reborn?' " Mr. Nichols has never stayed overnight before. You should seize this opportunity." a maid’s voice brought Debra back to reality. She picked out a white gown, hesitating. "How about this one, Madam?" Looking at it, Debra gave a self-deprecating smile. It was well known that Juan favored Shelia. Shelia liked white dresses. In the past, she often dressed like Shelia to please Juan. For this auction, Juan didn't inform her of the change in companion and brought Shelia instead, making her look ridiculous in a white dress similar to Shelia's. The thought of the past made her laugh. "No, I'll wear that one," she said, picking up a red dress. Debra never liked plain clothes. Shelia was just a poor college student. Debra felt that she must have lost her mind to dress like that for a man. "But Mr. Nichols likes white dresses," the maid said hesitantly. Debra simply ignored her hints. "I'll wear this one," she said. "Throw away all those white dresses. I don't like them." The maid sighed and complied. Debra looked at herself in the mirror, still vibrant and beautiful. But in a few years, she would be worn down by Juan's torment. Before that happened, she would end it all. In the evening, Debra appeared in a burgundy dress that accentuated her curves. Her delicate makeup, curls, and a mole under her eye made her mesmerizing. She looked like a painting, untouchable. Not far away, a man in a white shirt and black leather combat boots saw her. Marion Houston asked, "Who is she?" "You don't know her? She's Debra, the daughter of the Frazier family and Juan's wife," said his friend, Randy Osborne. "I just saw Juan entering with another woman. Maybe we'll witness a showdown between the mistress and the wife. It will be fun."	LEARN_MORE	https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	202	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	thebvhwysgng.com	DCO		https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13914&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461289218_1238442967359041_237777891081435790_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wmn6XRqB7R4Q7kNvgEJsxc8&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ATVFfr2N-zo0cxzPn0gsCFO&oh=00_AYDtcFnCxQashUyoi3XEB1Kd33Pr60bslhWUHCUMIqsuKg&oe=670E3E8E	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,142,754	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2143286}'	Yes	2024-10-10 21:18	active	1606	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	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/	3,715	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	wwwedb.com	DCO		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/t39.35426-6/460622970_1670828570426940_5800795536815850435_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=G6OtYCjuBu8Q7kNvgEmv4kz&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AFjjR8G2wK6wVBABcJAQBXU&oh=00_AYBIwg4epaggkSrOAc4-MYHen0VM2WRqYwpyZIlHTWfnJQ&oe=670E5BBF	PERSON_PROFILE	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,143,467	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2143654}'	Yes	2024-10-10 21:18	active	1606	😍Read the next chapters👉	This wasn’t the first time I received photos of Owen cheating on me. The blonde hair and slender build of the woman kissing him reminded me of my best friend Josie. But it couldn't be her… Right? With trembling fingers, I dropped my phone. How could he do this to me? I thought he cared. I thought I was the most important person in his life. I was like a sister to him, and now I am his wife! After losing my parents, I was adopted by Owen’s family. I saved Owen's life when we were young. His family was so grateful that they decided to take me in. I grew up with Owen. We used to be inseparable. At first, he was like a brother to me. But as we grew older, things changed… He went from an awkward, geeky boy to a tall, handsome young man. I changed with the years, too. Puberty transformed me from a skinny little girl into a fit, voluptuous young woman. My dark brown hair grew long and wavy, spreading on my shoulders like seaweed. My bright green eyes with soft sight were framed by long black lashes. My fair skin and slim figure let me win the admiration of many Suitors. Owen always said he loved my eyes. He said my eyes were as charming as a clear lake. Since we were teens, we felt a strange, forbidden attraction to one another. But neither of us ever dared to admit it. Until that one fateful night, when we shared our first kiss. We got married when we were 22 years old. I couldn’t believe that was almost 3 years ago now. I always thought we knew each other best. I thought nothing could ever come between us. But Owen had been acting very strange recently. These photos seemed to explain why… I had to confront him. “Owen?” I called out. “Owen, where are you?” He didn’t answer. He must be upstairs. I walked up the stairs and heard him talking to his friend Simon on the phone. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: “No, I don’t think I love her anymore.” His words gave me icy chills. “You should be happy, Simon. I know you like Noah. If we get a divorce, you can have her.” Owen continued. “He said...what?” I couldn’t believe my ears and cried in my heart, “How dare he talk about me like that? I wasn't just some object he could give away! ” Hearing Owen’s frivolous talk with his friend, I felt sick. I grew up with him and got married for so many years. But he recently acted like a stranger. Did he have a new love? Why he treated me in such a cruel way?! I was almost to open the door to question him, but suddenly I hesitated, “Question him and then what? Owen may not love me love before. Do I want divorce? No, I don’t think so. Anyway, I have to calm down. At least I need to have a talk with him first. I need to know what happened to our marriage.” So, I quietly made my way back downstairs. I tried to forget about what I heard by preparing dinner. As I was dishing up our pasta, the delightful scent of italian herbs drifted through the house. I heard Owen come downstairs. “Just in time for your dinner, hun!” I said, trying to sound normal. But he was wearing his coat and gelled hair. He looked handsome as ever and ready to leave. I could smell his aftershave - my favorite smell in the world. “Where are you going? It’s getting late and dinner is ready.” I said. “Dinner with a client. Don’t wait for me.” Owen replied and left without hesitation. I sat alone at the table, looking at the food I’d carefully prepared for him. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I listlessly turned the spaghetti round and round with my fork. I wasn’t hungry. After storing away the leftovers, I stared at the TV for a while. Nothing could get my mind off of Owen and whoever that blonde tramp was. I made my way to the bathroom. I washed my mascara stained face and looked at myself in the mirror. Why did he stop loving me? Am I not beautiful enough? Did I not do enough to make him happy? I gave my body a scrutinizing glance, suddenly seeing all the parts of me that weren’t perfect. My belly wasn’t as flat as it used to be. Maybe I should’ve had my lips done, like my friend Josie. Mine always used to be fuller than hers. But now she had the plump, luscious lips of a model. After washing up, I went to bed. Dropping my face into my pillow, I felt miserable. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind kept wandering. Where was Owen? And with who? Will he even come home tonight? At 1 am, I finally heard the key turn in the front door. From all the stumbling I could hear Owen was very drunk. I swiftly made my way downstairs to help him to the bedroom. He started kissing me and said a blurry name. I tried to identify what it was. After he repeated it for many times, I was shocked. It sounded like... “Joise”! “Josie…? Were you with Josie?” I asked with panic in my voice. I helped his heavy body into bed. He grunted some words I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. I cried and pleaded with him to see that it was me, not Josie. He pushed me away. As his head hit the pillow, he started snoring right away. Looking at my husband - completely drunk - I didn’t recognize the man I knew and loved. I tried to sleep next to him. But it felt like I was lying next to a stranger. I went downstairs and sat on the sofa all night, wide eyed, thinking about what happened between us. The next morning, Owen came downstairs after a shower. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling. He must be hungover. When I got up from the couch, I felt very weak and feverish. The sleepless night must've made me sick. “Owen, are you OK?” I asked as I struggled to walk over to him. I really wanted to hug him. If only for a sense of comfort. He swept my arms away and told me to leave him alone. I was so weak and dizzy, his push made me fall. Owen was stunned for a moment. Then he said coldly, “If you’re sick, go see a doctor.” I scrambled up to my feet, and looked at him with a shocked expression. Suddenly, his phone rang. As he lifted it to his ear, the screen lit up. I could clearly see who was calling: “Josie”. Chapter 2 - Hope Noah My heart sank when Owen picked up the phone. The screen clearly said “Josie”. He answered: “Hello? Yes, of course, sir. I can take a look at those documents for you.” I couldn't believe Owen was lying to my face. He glanced at me, then quickly walked over to the kitchen. When he thought I couldn't hear him, his voice softened. He sounded so sweet. Although I couldn’t hear his words, the way he spoke to Josie reminded me of the beginning of our romance. Owen was still trying to hide his betrayal from me. He must have forgotten that he gave away his secret last night, when he called me Josie. Those pictures on my phone left no doubt. He was cheating on me, with my best friend. I leaned up against the wall. I felt weakened by my fever and this emotional rollercoaster. I stared at my husband as he came back inside the living room. He avoided my eyes. It felt as if he had become a stranger. In the past, he would’ve never let me suffer like this. “I’ll pick you up later.” Owen said, ready to go. I grabbed his hand and begged him to stay with me. “Please, don’t leave. I'm sick, Owen. I need to see a doctor. I’m too weak to be all by myself.” He was very impatient. He said he had some important business to deal with. I couldn’t help crying as I watched him leave. My husband and my best friend were betraying me, behind my back. I walked up the stairs slowly, carefully holding on to the railing. I was so weak and fragile. Bed rest was my best option right now. I really needed my husband to take care of me. When we got married, he vowed to me: “In sickness and in health, in good times and bad”. This was definitely a bad time, and he was nowhere to be seen. When I woke up from my nap, I felt even worse. In my feverish haze, I reached for my phone and tried to call Owen. I opened my recent contacts and found that Owen had not had any calls with me these days at all. I had to open the contact list to look for him, few minutes later I dialed out with a headache and dizziness. Almost immediately I heard: “Hello, Noah?” The voice on the phone sounded very deep. I figured Owen got a cold after his late night out. “I’m so sick, I’m so weak. I need to get to the hospital. Please, come back, please…” I pleaded, my voice weak and trembling. “I’ll be right there.” Said the voice on the phone and hung up right away. His voice sounded different from before. And his tone was a little urgent. What’s wrong? I didn’t have enough energy to think about it. At least he might still care about me. That comforted me a lot. Before long, there was a heavy knock on the door. Did Owen leave his key? I opened the door, expecting to look into Owen's gray eyes, but found Raymond's kind, hazel brown eyes instead. What was he doing here? Raymond was Owen’s uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, tanned and handsome. His chocolate brown hair matched his eyes. With his strong, square jaw and muscular body. I always thought Owen was one of the most attractive men I knew. It wasn't until Raymond’s appearance that I realized how dominant the handsome genes in this family in terms of good looking. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back 10 years ago to take over his family’s business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. “Does Owen know you’re sick?” Raymond said, looking concerned. “How did you know I'm sick? Do I look that terrible?” I asked, suddenly aware that I was only wearing my little nightgown, had no make-up on and had my hair up in a messy bun. Raymond smiled. “Don't worry, Noah. I got your call earlier.” Oops, I must have pressed the number of “Owen’s Boss” instead of “Owen”. I apologized for the inconvenience. “You are a member of our family, Noah. It’s my duty to take care of you. And you are never an inconvenience to me.” Raymond said as he took me by the arm to support me. He led me to his streamlined, dark gray Mercedes to drive me to the hospital. I sat down on the cream colored leather seat. His car smelled brand new. The seat was heated, which helped warm me up, but I was still shivering. Raymond took off his suede blazer and handed it to me. His simple act of kindness made me feel warm, inside and out. “Thank you, Raymond. This means a lot to me.” I said with a relieved sigh. “Of course, Noah. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” He responded. He still had a slight Australian accent. He asked me what happened. I wouldn’t have shared my family’s private problems with another man who I didn’t even know him very well. But at that time, I was on the very edge of a breakdown. I really needed someone to talk to. Yet when I lost two of my closest persons on the same day, my husband and my best friend, who else could I talk to? “I don’t think Owen loves me as much as before. It seems that he has some secrets with another woman, who used to my best girlfriend. I couldn't sleep all night. I think that's what caused my fever.” I concluded. I was in tears again by the time I finished the story. “How could they do this to you? You are the best thing that's ever happened to Owen. If he can't see that, he is an even bigger idiot than I thought!” Raymond shouted out. His shocked, angry expression showed me how much he cared. “Please, don't say a word about this to Owen. I haven't confronted him yet. I need to do this myself.” I responded. We sat quietly for a while, his hand resting very close to my thigh. I felt so weak and miserable. But his presence helped. When we seeing the private doctor. I tried to get out of the car but almost fell. Raymond flung an arm around me, just in time to catch me. I blushed as I looked up to him. My face was very close to his. His piercing eyes looked at me with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. I smelled something fresh. It might be his aftershave. I remembered Owen also used it, and I always told he that I love what he smelled. But I found Raymond’s aftershave smelled a little special. “Raymond? Noah? What are you doing?!” I suddenly heard Owen’s angry voice. Chapter 3 - Truth Noah Raymond quickly let go of me as Owen approached us. Just before taking a step back. I stumbled over to my husband. I wanted to lean on him for support, but he didn’t seem to care about me at all. All I could read on his face was anger. I tried to be strong and stand by myself, shivering with fever. “So, you’ve got a new love, huh? I saw you flirting with my uncle!” Owen spat his angry words at me. I turned pale. How could he say this to me? Especially after what he had done? I wasn’t the one who couldn’t be trusted! “Owen! How dare you talk to her like that! It’s not our family’s manner!” Raymond berated him. He was fuming with rage at the injustice. He also knew about Owen's betrayal. Owen was a little timid when Raymond got angry. Although Raymond was only 31 years old, he had become a successful CEO. He had idolized Raymond when he was a child. And now, Raymond was also his boss. Owen had recently started working at his company. Raymond’s fists were clenched and his tense muscles were visible through his buttoned up shirt. He looked like he was about to hit Owen. I didn’t want them to fight over me, so I tried to calm them both down. “Raymond, it’s okay. Owen will take me in to see a doctor. Thank you for driving me here.” I said gratefully. ‘Please, don’t say anything about Josie’, I tried to tell him mentally through the look in my eyes. He nodded slightly, as if he understood. He relaxed and his eyes softened when he looked at me. I turned back to my angry husband. I couldn’t detect any sign of trust in his eyes. I supposed he should he should be concerned about my health rather than the relationship between me and Raymond. “Owen, I can explain. I tried to call you, but I was so sick I accidentally dialed Raymond’s number. He brought me to see the doctor. You should be grateful to him. Without him I would still be miserable in bed, all alone.” Owen grabbed me and said, “Well, I was just on my way to come and get you. Then I saw you get out of uncle Raymond's car and ‘fall’ right into his arms.” He looked at Raymond with an arrogant smirk. “You can go back to your important job now, uncle. I’ll look after my wife.” Raymond’s eyes were cold, but he respected my wishes. He didn't object. After warning Owen that he’d better take good care of me, he got back in his car and drove off. Although I was glad I could lean on Owen, something didn't feel right. I realized I was still wearing his suede jacket. It was so soft and warm, protecting me from the cold autumn wind. When the doctor dealt with my fever, Owen didn’t want to speak to me, let alone look at me. He was engaging himself in typing on his phone. The doctor told me I shouldn't have waited much longer. My fever was so high I could have fainted. After getting examined and taking medicine for my fever, Owen drove me home. We sat next to each other in our car that held many memories. All our road trips and getaways together. Those times were over now. After an uncomfortable silence, I decided to address the elephant in the room. “Owen… What is going on? Do you still love me? Do you still regard me as your wife?” I asked. “So what? Whose wife do you want to be?” Owen hissed. I couldn't believe how horrible he was to me after what he had done. “I know you cheated on me, Owen.” I uttered with pain in my voice. “You’ve been seeing Josie, right?” Owen stopped the car with a jerk and pulled over. We sat in silence for a while as he processed my words. “What do you know, Noah?” he pressed, looking me in the eyes at last. I finally confronted him about all the things that had been weighing heavily on my heart. I explained: “Someone sent me photos of the two of you together. The first time, they didn't show your face. So I didn’t want to believe it. But in the ones I received yesterday, it was clearly you. All those nights, when you told me you had to leave town for business... You lied to me. You spent them at a hotel with another woman! Then, last night, you kissed me and called me Josie. And this morning, I saw it was her calling you. You pretended it was a client. “Owen, we have grown up together since we were kids. I always thought we know each other the most and could trust each other. I can’t believe you would cheat me like that!” I cried, “Owen, did you fall in love with another woman... Is she my best friend Josie?!” His eyes showed a moment of doubt. Then, resolution. His mouth tightened as he clenched his jaw. Just when I thought he wouldn’t answer, Owen said: “It’s true. I love her. I love Josie.” Chapter 4 - Hurt Noah I just couldn't accept it. I loved him so much. How could he cheat on me? “Why, Owen? I thought we loved each other. I thought we would be together forever. Did I do something wrong?” I cried. Owen didn't respond. He drove us home in silence. His cruelty was too much for me to bear. I stared at the raindrops on the window. I felt more depressed than ever. That afternoon, Owen left again. I tried having some food and a nap, hoping that would help me heal. But I just couldn't fall asleep until Owen came back home in the early evening. I had to talk to him. I got out of bed and met him at the top of the stairs. “Owen, we need to talk about what happened. You can't keep going out and avoiding me.” He was obviously drunk again. All he said was, “I don’t have anything to say to you. I am moving out, Noah. I supposed our years of marriage is a mistake!” I took his hands in mine and begged him to stay and try to work it out. But he shook off my hands and pushed me away. I was standing right on the edge of the staircase. His push made me lose balance, and I tumbled down the stairs. I managed to grab onto the railing so I didn’t fall all the way down. But my head hit the wall when I tried to break my fall. I felt my forehead was bleeding. It was so painful that I couldn’t get up. I thought Owen would help me, but only heard: “You lost your footing. It’s not my fault.” There was a sudden knock on the door. Owen stumbled past me down the stairs. “Raymond? What are you doing here? Now is not a good time.” “I came to ask you what is going on. You need to give me an explanation. You haven’t … Noah?” Raymond suddenly saw me sitting on the stairs behind Owen. He pushed Owen aside and ran over to me in alarm. Seeing my messy hair and injured forehead, he instantly knew what happened between us. He punched Owen in the face. “This is how you treat your wife?! I don’t believe you. Don’t you see Noah is bleeding? Did you hurt her? What a disgusting thing you smelled! You drunk idiot!” Raymond raged at his nephew. I didn’t even have time to explain. Raymond immediately wrapped me up in his suit jacket and took me to see the doctor. “Twice in one day? That must be a record.” The doctor said wearily. I gave her a wry grin and answered, “Not by choice…” The doctor took care of my wounds. I needed a couple of stitches and had some pretty bad bruises, but I would be okay. Thankfully, I didn't break any bones. It was getting dark outside. The autumn breeze was busy blowing the leaves off the maple trees surrounding the hospital parking lot. Raymond and I made our way back to the car. Our feet rustled through the thick carpet of yellow, brown and scarlet red leaves. After my second - and hopefully last - doctor's visit of the day, we sat next to each other in silence. We were back in his beautiful Mercedes. I could get used to these comfortable, heated seats. I felt a bit embarrassed. Raymond kept on having to save me. At least this time, I was wearing clothes and make-up, and my brown hair was neatly tied in a long, wavy ponytail. “I don’t normally need so much help, you know.” I broke the ice. “I happen to be a strong, independent woman most of the time.” Raymond laughed heartily. “Jokes aside, I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me.” I continued. “Why did you come over tonight, Raymond?” “Owen hadn’t come to work at the company for days. And I wanted to speak to him about what happened this morning, with you. I tried to call him, but he never answered. I decided to come over. To see for myself what was wrong with him.” Raymond explained. “I just can’t believe what he did to you!” He continued. “If he ever does anything like that again, please tell me. I’ll teach him a lesson.” His stern face showed how much he meant it. I took a deep breath. He had a way of making me feel safe and secure. “Thank you, Raymond. I’m okay now. It was an accident. Owen didn’t push me off the stairs on purpose. He didn’t mean to hurt me.” I explained. Raymond looked a little angry, but he still carefully drove me home. “Goodbye, Raymond. Thank you again, for everything.” I said with feeling as he hugged me. “Bye, Noah. It’s been my pleasure. Please be safe. Call me if you need anything.” He said. He gently patted me on my head as comfort as if I was a little girl and got back in his car. His simple actions made me feel warm. I thanked him and walked home. I entered the house. It was quiet and dark downstairs. I walked up to our room. When I opened our bedroom door, all I could see was Owen and Josie kissing on the bed. Chapter 5 - The Necklace Noah I couldn’t believe my eyes! While the hours I was leaving, my husband was screwing with my best friend in my room! Didn’t he remember I got hurt because of him?! How ridiculous! Even though I had seen Owen and Josie’s betrayal before in photos, witnessing it in real life was way worse. It felt like a million knives stabbed me in the chest. My heart shattered. “How dare you cheat on me in our home! In our own bed, for God’s sake!” I cried out. They hadn’t heard me open the bedroom door over the romantic music that was playing. They turned around with shocked looks on their faces. If I wasn’t so devastated, it might’ve been funny. Owen's mouth had lipstick smears all over it, and Josie’s blonde hair was disheveled. They were both in their underwear. Clothes were spread out all over our bedroom floor. I tried to hold back my tears. I didn't want to show them my pain. My crying might come across as weakness. I demanded an explanation. “I don’t believe this. Owen! Did you forget I am your wife?! Josie, why you betray me too?! I treat you as my best friend. How dare you take my husband away from me!” I insisted. Josie hid away in Owen’s arms. Owen comforted her gently, then snapped at me: “You’ve already seen us together anyway, haven't you, Noah?” “I am done with you.” He continued. “Our whole relationship was based on a lie. Josie should’ve been with me all along!” I didn’t understand. “What are you talking about, Owen?” He held up a delicate golden necklace with a tear shaped ruby that had been resting on Josie’s collarbone. “Remember this, Noah? The truth has finally come out. It was Josie who saved my life all those years ago, not you. You pretended that it was you in front of my parents. You’ve made her suffer long enough!” I was shocked. Why did Josie have my necklace? I couldn't believe her betrayal. I tried to explain to Owen that I lost that necklace before I was adopted by his family. I told him I would never lie to him. Especially about something so important. But Owen didn’t believe me. “Josie,” I cried. “How could you do this to me? Why would you steal my necklace? You know how much it means to me! We’ve been best friends since the orphanage, haven’t we? Does that mean nothing to you?” “Noah, you know this necklace has always belonged to me. I was the one who saved Owen. But you stole my life to be adopted,”Josie played innocent with me, “I should have been the one who grew up with Owen! I see you as my sister, so I never attempted to reveal your lie until Owen found this necklace in my old jewelry box several months ago.” This convinced Owen even more that I had been bullying her. He wrapped his arms around her. Over his shoulder, when he couldn’t see, Josie gave me a quick, mean smirk. I knew Josie had a mean side. She always had, even when we were kids. But so far, she had only taken it out on her boyfriends and whoever got on her bad side, not on me. I never thought she might treated me in such a mean way! I had searched everywhere but couldn't find my that necklace. It turned out that she was the thief who was always around me. How could she tell such outrageous lies as if it were natural？ I left the bedroom, rushed downstairs and broke down on the couch. Oh, what a nightmare! How could I make Owen see the truth? A little later, Owen and Josie came downstairs, all dressed up again. Josie was wearing her Prada pumps and the sleek, mint green dress I gifted her for her birthday. It accentuated her long legs and slender silhouette. I had to admit, she looked beautiful. I used to dress in a simple way such as simple jeans, white blouse and sneakers. Maybe I looked less attractive compared to Josie. Owen had an arm around Josie’s waist and warned me, “You’d better stay out of our life from now on. I’ll move to another villa with Josie.” I couldn't believe it. After 3 years of marriage, he trusted her story over mine. And now he wanted nothing to do with me. We used to be happily married. Our whole lives, ever since I saved him, we had been so close. We used to laugh together, cry together, play pranks on each other… But now, everything changed, simply because of a necklace. In fact, “necklace” is just an excuse for his betrayal. I didn’t believe our years of affection couldn’t prove my heart. “Noah, my life were ruined by you. You owe me that.” Josie said. “One day you’ll both regret this. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I sobbed. As they walked out, I faintly heard Owen reply: “It’s my fault. I should have found you earlier, or you wouldn’t have suffered so much.” I could only guess at his last insult as the door closed behind them. I zoned out in front of the TV and poured myself some of Owen’s whisky. The past couple of days had been the worst of my life ever since I lost my parents. My body and mind had been through so much. I felt numb. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. The sudden loud jingle of my phone ringing woke me up. The bright midmorning sun was shining in through the large windows. Looks like I slept in late. Disoriented, I picked up my phone and saw it was Owen calling. I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. Before I could say a word, I heard Owen’s angry shouting: “How dare you do this to Josie! Those guys you hired? They put her in the hospital! I can’t believe your jealousy would drive you this far!” Chapter 6 - Choice Noah “What?! What guys? I just woke up, Owen. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I replied to the angry voice on the phone. “More lies! I can’t believe you, Noah. You're despicable!” Owen shouted. He was so loud, I had to move the phone away from my ear. “Owen, please calm down. All I remember is you leaving with Josie last night. I fell asleep on the couch. What happened?” “Josie is in the hospital because of you. I demand that you come here right now and apologize to her!” He ended the call before I could reply. What was this about? Would my life ever go back to normal? I decided to find out what was going on. My fever was over. Although my head still hurt, the wound was healing rapidly. I took a refreshing shower and got into a pencil skirt and light blue blouse. I combed my hair and decided to wear it in natural loose waves today. After a quick breakfast, I slipped into my high heels and coat, and made my way to my car. It was a crisp sunny day. I arrived at the hospital. At least it wasn't me who needed to see the doctor this time. “Oh, it’s our ‘old friend’.” The nurse said jokingly. I smiled as she directed me to Josie’s room. As soon as I knocked on the door, Owen opened it with an enraged look on his face. “Finally! That took you long enough.” He whispered angrily. “Josie is sleeping.” He came out and gently closed the door behind him. We walked towards the chairs in the hallway. “I have no idea what happened, Owen.” I said honestly. “Can you please tell me what is going on? Some guys attacked her?” “Are you still pretending you weren't behind this? You are unbelievable.” He shook his head, then continued. “Josie was attacked by some hooligans this morning, on her way to work. She shouted out and fainted from fear. Thankfully, a police officer was nearby. He heard her scream. She has a heavy concussion from the fall. She'll have to stay here a few days to recover.” “What? That's horrible!” I replied in shock. Although I was angry with Josie, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. “Stop your act now, Noah. Those guys were arrested. They told the police someone paid them to kidnap Josie, because she broke up a marriage.” No wonder he doubted me. But I couldn’t believe the trust between us was so fragile. “Would you believe me if I swore to you it wasn't me?” I asked with a last glimmer of hope. His reply made it clear to me that there was no hope left for us: “Never again will I believe a single word you say, Noah.” I refused to apologize. I didn't have anything to do with this. If there is anyone needed to stand out and make an apology, it was them for what they had done to me！ On my way out, I contacted a friend who had lots of connections all over the city. I asked her to investigate the situation. I also called the office on my way home, to let them know I was still recovering from my fever and head wound. My boss was understanding. She told me to take as long as I needed. In the evening, Owen came home just as I was about to have dinner. “I didn’t prepared your dinner. I guess you would have dinner with Josie?” I said plainly. I didn’t know why he came back at this time, but I didn’t care about it anymore. He ignored my words and said, “You still don’t want to apologize, right? You have two choices, Noah. Apologize and make amends with Josie, or divorce me and get out of this house!” “Josie is the one who betrayed us both. She lied to you, Owen. She stole my necklace. She is the one who should apologize!” I argued. Owen burst out in rage and slapped me in the face. I stared at him in disbelief. I was totally disappointed. Over the past few days he had hit me, pushed me, cheated on me. He had hurt me in every way. I made up my mind. “I choose divorce.” I said coldly. “Okay, good. My lawyer will contact you in the next morning. Oh, and I’ve prepared another ‘surprise’ for you.” Owen said ruthlessly with a wicked smile.	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12088&u	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/	20	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	redtgb.com	DCO		https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12088&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/448779987_1262869391355075_4601790756563973166_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=J1YC8E8rqqkQ7kNvgH7lxUk&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A4egHwhNBs8cDVz5VqI8tA-&oh=00_AYBHTsUh_COrIixelgd1UuWVj8bKeWPRqTaOZMoycV1gGg&oe=670E52FB	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,142,632	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2142630}'	Yes	2024-10-10 21:18	active	1606	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1 Amelia's POV "Hello, Amelia," the smooth baritone says over the phone, and my eyes go wide immediately. My pulse quickens as my brain produces a face to match the voice almost instantly. It is the one face I had tried so much to get over - the one face that makes my heart beat erratically. "Who is this?" I say, unable to keep the trembling out of my voice as I woefully pretend not to recognize his voice. "Tsk tsk tsk. You don't recognize my voice? That's too bad, Amelia," he says. I can hear the disappointment and slight amusement in his low, smooth baritone. It makes my pulse jump. It makes my mouth dry, even as I moisten my li-ps with my tongue. Ashley, my roommate and best friend, is watching me with her brows furrowed into a question mark across the room. I look away from her, cupping the phone closer to my ear. "What do you want, Mr. Tanner?" I whisper harshly. What could he be calling me about at this time of the night? It is 10 p.m. on a random Tuesday. We haven't spoken in three years since the funeral of my mom. I wanted nothing to do with him. I have successfully run away, hiding from him, hoping he would not be able to reach me. "I thought we agreed on you addressing me by just Linc." His voice cuts into me, but I can't pull the phone away from my ear. I am drawn, and yet my brain yells at me to just drop the call and block this new number. But I don't listen because he will just call me again. He will always find me, or I always allow myself to be found. Ashley, having sensed my need for privacy, stepped out of the room already. "Mr. Tanner," I take a deep, shaky breath to steady my nerves so I don't sound like a scared, squeaky mouse over the phone, "Why are you calling me at this time of the night with a strange number?" I fail; I bite down on my lower li-p in muffled anger. It's been so long since I heard his voice, his deep baritone voice that sends swarms of butterflies in my lower belly. "Because you blocked all my other numbers and cut everyone else off," he snaps. Though there is still that hint of amusement in his voice, like he is enjoying toying with my emotions like this. He knows what he's doing; he always does, and I swear on my life he could literally picture me shaking for him. "Yes, and?" I say with a brow raise like he can see me, hoping I'm doing a good work at acting unaffected and unbothered as though I hadn't mastur-bated an hour ago with his half-na-ked picture I saved on my phone from social media account. Hell yes! You can say I'm stalking him, too. God! Seeing him shirtless, his shorts hanging lower beneath his hi-p brought waves of forbidden feelings I never knew existed within me. "Ames, darling, you worry me," Linc Tanner, my stepfather breathes into the phone, and heat rises to my face at that danm nickname. That nickname coming out from his forbidden li-ps, capable of making my toes curl, my knees bend before him, taking all of him deep into my throat. "Don't call me that!" I yell, cutting him short. My face is going red. I hate the way my body reacts to him. Every part of me awakens at the sound of his voice. It terrifies me; it excites me. "I will call you what I want," he replies calmly and dangerously low and then continues in the same calm tone like I am not huffing and puffing over the phone at him, "It has been three years, and I needed to know how you were doing. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you," He pauses like he is rethinking his choice of words, and I hold my breath, refusing to think too much about the fact that he just said he hasn't been able to stop thinking about me, "Wondering how you were coping," he adds finally. I exhale. The sudden vulnerability in his voice drives a sharp sting directly to my heart. It hurts for a second, and then I pull my defensive walls up again, guarding that traitorous organ called the heart. "It is not in your place to worry about me. I am not your responsibility. I am doing perfectly fine on my own," I bite back, but deep down a surge of joy was gradually brimming. He obviously has not called me to talk about my shortcomings in the way I handled the aftermath of my mother's funeral three years ago. That is why I had his numbers blocked. I know Linc Tanner is rich enough to find me within days, but I hoped that common sense would tell him not to bother me regardless, and he didn't. "You know that is not true. I am your guardian; of course, it is in my place to worry about you," Linc says, his smooth baritone pierces me like a lash. I imagine him pulling his hand through his thick wavy jet-black hair in quiet frustration. It is one of the things I noticed about him immediately when I was first introduced to him four years ago. That thick midnight dark hair. For his age, it was ridiculous for his hair to still be that youthful looking, that mouthwatering, the hottest man I have ever set my eyes on. But that was Linc Tanner. A walking contradiction of a man. Chapter 2 I snap myself to reality when I realize I have started trailing off into memories I have tagged forbidden. this"So, what do you want now, stepfather?" I hear his light chuckle, and I can't help the flutter in my belly from absorbing the rich sound. I can almost smell him. I remember what he smelled like. God! it's imprinted in my brain. It is embarrassing, but I can admit that I look for that scent in every man I have gone out with since, but to no success. It belonged to Linc Tanner alone. Just like my silly heart. Mint, dark coffee, something dark and mysterious thrown in the mix and a whiff of something floral and yet overwhelmingly masculine. I used to smell him in the house before he even got to the room I was in, with my mom on his arm, dark onyx eyes seeking mine like a storm. "I kind of prefer Mr. Tanner to that stepfather title. Makes me feel old, and the way you say it adds a perverted undertone to it," he says after a moment. His tone is light; it is a rebuff he has used several times before when I used to call him that as a sort of childish rebellion to the dismay of my mother who insisted I call him by his name or worse, dad. "Whatever," I snap. I hate having to think about my mother or the period during that summer before I left for college when I had to stay with them, and it was low-key the worst few weeks of my life in that house. "Still that temper. It is good to know you haven't changed much, Ames darling," Linc says with a light chuckle. But he is wrong. At least I hope so. I hope I have changed enough. But with the way my heart flutters every time he calls me that nickname in that rich baritone of his, I can't be sure I have changed much, and it is embarrassing. "I need you to tell me why you have called, Linc. Cut the whole thing about you worrying about me and all that bullshiit. I know you have eyes on me. I have seen her. What do you want?" My anger comes back to shield my foolish heart; it wraps around my che-st like a vice. Whatever he has been paying the woman following me for the past three years should be halved. She is terrible at her job. She doesn't even try to be hidden. "Okay. Okay. Sheathe your claws, tigress," Linc says. There is no chuckling this time. He doesn't even try to deny it. It makes me angrier, but I bite my tongue. Once I hear what he is calling for, we will talk about that danm female bodyguard. "I need you to come back home for your break tomorrow. Your plane tickets are ready, everything is set in place," Linc says, his voice dangerously set and rigid, my mouth opens and closes. Again, I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. I am beyond dumbfounded. Not at the fact that he knows the exact timing of my summer break, but the finality and air of authority of his tone. "What!" Finally, I scream into the phone. "What the fck are you talking about?! I am not coming back! You better say you're joking right now!" I scream into the phone. Courtesy be danmed. I don't care if Ashley can hear me. I don't care if I am being rude. He has lost his mind if he thinks he can just command me to come back to New York out of the blue like this. After three whole years of no contact! Though I was the one that initiated the no-contact rule, that is beside the point. "You are and you will," Linc says and the calmness in his voice threatens to push me to the edge. He has no rights! Have I not made this clear enough! "I don't know how to say this nicely, Mr. Tanner, but I genuinely do not want anything to do with you. My mother is dead. She is not here anymore. I am not obligated to feel related to you because we are not related. I am not coming back to New York, and that is final," I say, breathing heavily. My eyes narrow on the floral pattern of my quilt, and I feel like I could go crazy with the way my heart is racing, flashes of forbidden memories running through my mind. Mental snapshots of Linc walking out of the luxurious infinity pool on the rooftop of his mansion and his immaculate figure, toned wide shoulders, long muscular legs like tree trunks, chiseled torso, me hiding behind the lounge door, watching him like a creep, the water dripping down his hairy front body, snaking into his navel, down his briefs with that noticeable bulge, and his dark eyes catching mine immediately like he knew I was there all along, watching him. "Amelia. Listen to me," Linc's domineering voice cuts into me, and I rip my focus away from those danm memories. That summer is cursed. I can't think of that time without feeling a heap of guilt and the sense of awakening into something bigger than myself, in those stolen glances, fantasies, and sleepless nights where I imagined what it would be like to be the one sharing Linc's bed instead of my mother. I felt treacherous even though me and my mother and I had never been particularly close. "No! I am not coming back, and you can't make me!" I yell. "Amelia!" Linc's annoyed voice snaps me to attention. I bite my tongue. Squeezing the phone in my hand. I grit my teeth in annoyance. I didn't have any specific plans for the holiday, though I was thinking about my internship options. Since it is my sophomore year, I am supposed to spend my summer break interning at any reputable architectural company that will take me. "It is something your mother wanted," Linc says, his voice going back to calm and collected. Of course. She would still continue to mess up my life even when she is no longer here. Chapter 3 It is aggravating, all the complex feelings she evokes in me. Our relationship wasn't the typical mother-daughter bond. Because she wasn't the typical mother by any means. Kathryn Dimitri was a socialite through and through. She was glamorous and loud and enjoyed going to dinner parties, soirees, any excuse to have fun and drink champagne, flirting with the throng of men who were always sniffing around her. It always stung when people noted how different we looked. They always looked at her elegant auburn bold beauty and my muted blonde prettiness and concluded I paled in comparison, just like my skin. Mother always threw her head back with a delightful laugh when those men paid her compliments at my expense. That was one of the reasons why I hated spending time at home. With her. She always made me feel like an unwanted attachment to her person. An attachment that never quite measured up. Sometimes, I think to myself that my attraction to Linc was a rebellion. It was a cowardly one because I never acted on any of my fantasies, but it was a rebellion nonetheless, and it felt good. When just three months into college, enjoying my freedom from her and that suffocating mansion where I had to hide my blushing face whenever Linc was in the room, I got the call that she had died in a car accident all the way in Paris on her way to another of her glamorous parties, I felt a wave of grief so huge, so encompassing and utterly confusing that my world paused. I went through the funeral in a muted daze. I faintly remember Linc holding me as I finally broke down and cried on the third night when I wanted to return to college. Wanted to escape. The reassuring way he held me. Tenderly. Like I was too fragile and could break apart against his huge body. I got on the plane and arrived back in college, and I could still smell his scent on me. I didn't wash the dress I wore for weeks. "She wanted you to intern at my firm. She wanted me to keep an eye on you. To take care of you and safeguard your future. You like to act tough, but you really have no one else in this world, and that makes me feel empathetic towards you. You can view me as this big bad monster stepfather and I don't care, but I do care about you, and I wouldn't sit back and watch you struggle when I could do something about it. Amelia, please. It would be for just three months. Come to New York. Come home," Linc says, the genuine sincerity in his voice bites at me. I blink back, furious tears, feeling the anger dissipating into that warm feeling I hate feeling towards him because it felt wrong. "Ames..." He says gently when I don't reply. I am too busy pushing back the lump in my throat. He knows he has touched a nerve because he is right. I am truly alone in this world. All of my mother's connections and circle of friends and even families, nobody gave a danm about me after the funeral. My late dad has family in Portugal, but we were not really close before he died. With my mom gone too, I was left alone, and it didn't hit as hard because before she died, I always felt alone, shuffling from boarding school to college, we never bonded in any special way. I was always alone in my little world. But in moments like this, when someone like Linc who knew me, knew my mother and I, reminds me how utterly alone I am, it breaks my heart. "Okay. I will come back to New York." My heart flutters at my resignation because I know there is nothing I could possibly do about it. I accept it. I guess I have to go back to fighting my forbidden attraction to my stepfather. For just three months. I can survive that long without doing anything I might regret. I hope. ***** Linc Tanner's POV: The golden blonde full-grown woman seated in front of me is not the soft-spoken, shy eighteen-year-old Amelia I remember. I am taken aback by how much she has grown, that eyes that could make a grown man weak, that full mouth that I eager to taste, but I manage to keep my face expressionless. She is stunning. When she walked in a minute ago, I couldn't take my eyes off her, my greedy eyes taking in every detail of her womanly curves. It made me tingle for all the wrong reasons. She is currently glaring at me from her position on the chair in front of my desk. I tell myself I have kept an eye on her over the years because of a sort of loyalty to Kathryn, but in reality, I just couldn't bear not knowing how Amelia was doing, couldn't bear thinking about her being in the arms of another man, moaning and crying out his name instead of mine. She is a brave, strong girl, but I couldn't just let her go. My body couldn't let her go. She made my heart ache. I'm most definitely proud of her just thinking of her out there, all on her own. She reminds me of myself at the same age, hustling against all odds to make a name for myself. "Why did you come here directly?" I ask, breaking the ice between us. It has been three years, and we didn't even exchange a smile. She is on guard towards me, and I am walking on eggshells, trying not to upset her. "I figured we should get to it immediately," Amelia says. The softness of her voice is gone, replaced by a sharp edge that is confident and so womanly. I shake my head to ward off any more misleading thoughts. "Oh c'mon, Amelia. I asked that they chauffeur you to the house." I thought she would appreciate the rest. But here she is, glaring at me. "Do you stay alone?" She asks, catching me off guard. "Yes," I say, cautiously. Her boldness and the way she is holding my eyes are making me feel uneasy. I don't remember her being this confident. I used to find her extreme shyness amusing then. Interesting. Now I find her confidence highly attractive. Erotic. Fvck! Linc. Goddammit! Control yourself. Chapter 4 We have some history between us from that one summer three years ago before she ran away to college. But I am proud of myself for keeping things in control when she was just an eighteen-year-old rebellious teen. Now that she is all grown, I can't promise that I would be able to control myself much. This woman sitting across from me could bring any man to his knees, and I don't fvcking care falling on my knees in front of her as her legs open up for me, taking in the scent of her arousal, tasting her. Merely looking at her, I know she tastes like pure sugar. "Then I am not staying in that house. You have to get a place for me," she says, not adding the unspoken part. That she doesn't want to stay alone with me. "It is a big house, Amelia." I tried to clear my voice, It is a mansion, but I understand if she doesn't want to stay with me. I guess that could be weird. Without Kathryn in the midst, what would we do with each other? I don't want to dwell on that train of thought. "I don't care." She folds her arms over her front body, and my eyes get drawn to her che-st. I want to peel my eyes away, but I am powerless against her quietly confident feminine aura. She is wearing a pale blue sundress with a black sweater over it, but the pale blue of the dress makes her eyes stand out so clearly, she radiates like a beam of sunlight sitting across from me. She used to be pale, but her complexion has matured with a golden tint that teases down her long graceful neck into her deep-V line. I yank my eyes up to meet hers; thankfully, she is looking out the window. I note the multiple piercings in her ears, and a chuckle escapes me as I imagine the fit that Kathryn would have thrown if she could see her. "What is so funny?" she snaps, turning to fix me with her startling blue eyes. "Nothing. I will have someone look for a place for you that is close to the firm. Fine?" "Yes. Thank you." I don't mention that she would stay in the house with me until we find a place. It is unnecessary; she knows. "Come, let me show you around," I say, getting up, eager to move around before finding myself distracted, watching her like a aroused freak. I walk to her side to take her hand; she ignores me and tries to get up on her own. She takes a step forward, and it all happens too fast. She trips on her feet in front of me, falling backward with her eyes wide in terror. I shooot forward, grabbing her by her slim waist instead of her outstretched hand. I pull her forward until she is stable on her feet; our bodies collide, and I hear the soft gasp leave her full li-ps. A headiness clouds my thoughts. Her body is intoxicatingly soft pressed against me like this. My primal reaction startles me as all the blood rushes southward. Our faces are inches from each other; her large doe-like eyes blink up at me, and her rosy li-ps are slightly open. It takes all of my self-control to not just crash my mouth to hers and taste them. God knows how badly I have always wanted that. "Why do you not want to stay at the house with me?" I ask, ripping my eyes away from her tempting li-ps to look into her eyes. They hold mine with a mixture of fear, anticipation, and defiance. The combination makes my blood rush faster. "You know why," Amelia breathes, so close, so overwhelmingly stunning. Soft and dangerous. Grown and lethal. She overshadows my common sense, even at just eighteen. I only managed to stay away because of Kathryn, her mother. But now, three hard years later, she is in my arms, and there are no hindrances. I hold onto her waist tightly; she doesn't resist my touch, but she is not exactly leaning into me. She is frozen in place, and I get the feeling that if I let go, she would run. I can't lose her again. Danming all consequences, I lean in; my vision narrows in on the most perfect pair of li-ps I have ever seen, the whole world quietens with a hush. Chapter 5 Amelia's POV "Mr. Tanner, I have the reports..." A cheery voice interrupts the moment. "Oh! I am sorry." The woman's surprised, high-pitched voice intrudes on the madness that is my lust-filled brain and snaps me out of my reverie. His strong arm around my waist loosens its grip, and I take the opportunity to move away from the furnace of the man, my heart thundering at what almost happened. I didn't even hear the door open. His firm li-ps only grazed mine before the interruption, but I feel like it was more with the way my heart is beating fast. I have not been here longer than an hour, and I have already found myself in his arms. We almost kissed. And I hoped to survive three whole months with him without doing anything I might regret? That seems like such a practical joke now. Linc is forbidden, a no-go area, he's fire, if I get too close, he would burn me. Seeing Linc's trim, muscled figure in his form-fitting grey suit, his devastatingly handsome, resistant-to-aging face with those dark, piercing onyx eyes has reminded me just how easily my body gives in to him. His quiet, effective charm has reminded me why I ran. Why that summer really tough for me. Fighting this forbidden attraction to my middle-aged stepfather, who is forty-one while I am just twenty-one. He is literally old enough to be my father. But yet he pulls me. And I am powerless once he pins me with those eyes. I am weak. My body surrenders without much resistance. "Drop them on the desk," he says, his dark eyes still trained on me, his back to the woman frozen at the door glaring at me with such venom it scares me. I move further away. I need to escape him. But I know it is futile. Linc would find me. This attraction between us feels inevitable now. There is a quiet countdown ringing like a third heartbeat between us. Coming back was a mistake. Linc Tanner is not the kind of man one forgets. Or moves on from. I still feel the same way as I did three years ago, if not stronger. And now there is one less excuse as to why we shouldn't give in to this dark desire. "Uhm, sir, it needs your signature so I can send it back to..." "Charlotte, drop them on the desk!" Linc raised voice startles me and the woman, who quickly drops the files and hurries out. Linc doesn't turn away from me. He keeps his eyes on me, watching me like a hunter hunting his prey. I try to swallow, but my mouth is dry. Naked hunger is present in the depth of those shimmery dark eyes, and I have to clentch my fists together to gain some control over my senses. This is all shades of wrong. And yet so right. So necessary. It is official, I have lost my danm mind. How the hel are we going to sleep in the same house tonight without something forbidden happening between us? I can almost picture it, and it makes my pulse race faster. "Um. I should go." I say when I reach the door. Where am I going? I have no idea but I know I have to get away from this office right now before I find myself climbing my stepfather like a tree right here in his office. I know the nak-ed hunger in his eyes reflects mine. I am just as aroused. Just as willing to be reckless. Caution was thrown to the wind as soon as I agreed to come back. "Okay." His usually smooth baritone comes out cracked, he pauses and clears his throat, he starts walking towards me and my heart skips a beat, but then he turns to the left, towards his desk and I blink back my disappointment. "Take a tour of the firm. Choose whatever department you want to intern at. Then we can go to dinner." His mouth is a set line as he settles at his desk like he wasn't just about to kiss me a moment ago. "Dinner?" I croak, still visibly shaken up by what almost happened between us. I still feel the weight of his strong arm wound tightly around my waist. The possessiveness of his hold. The way his eyes narrowed in on my face before he leaned in to me for the kiss. It all makes me feel heady. "Yes. I made a reservation." He says looking up to meet my eyes, I hold his gaze. "I don't feel up to that." I say, looking away first as his eyes bore into me. One day, I will wi-n our spontaneous silent staring battle. "What? Let me guess, you are not hungry?" He asks with a small chuckle. It brings flashbacks of that summer three years ago when I used to deny being hungry so I could stay away from him and my mother. Only to sneak back to the kitchen at midnight to raid the fridge for leftovers. Linc caught me several times and the embarrassment still feels so heavy right now with the way he is watching me. Mischievous amusement shining in his eyes. "Fvck off." I snap. I can't stand his teasing in moments like this. I hate that he knows me all too well. "Now, now, Ames darling. I don't appreciate that tone." He says but his voice is still teasing and light. I can't believe we almost kissed just a moment ago and here he is, teasing. He confuses me. And somehow, that seems to be the allure. Other than the fact that he is my fcking stepfather. "Whatever. I am not going out to dinner with you." I cross my arms, his eyes follow the motion and heat rises up my cheeks. A moment passes between us. An impasse. "Okay, we will eat at home. I'll call my private chef." He says at last. I can't argue with that, so I just nod in passive agreement and push the door behind my back so I can escape the office. Escape his impossible charm. ***** "So, which department are you going to intern at?" Linc says, wiping his mouth with a triangle shaped napkin. The table is being cleared by the chef's assistants, I nod my appreciation to them for a great home dining experience. Linc doesn't even acknowledge them. "I don't know yet." I say because I truly don't. His firm is so large. So multifaceted. I have so many options but I have narrowed it down to either the creative designing or engineering departments since I have majored in both at college. "Okay. Take your time." He says. I refuse to allow myself feel the impact of his smooth baritone as it washes over me across the dining table. "Yeah." I should probably add my thanks but I don't. The staff finishes clearing out the table and they leave immediately, leaving us alone to our awkwardness. I swallow. The soft light of the overhead chandelier is cast directly on my face and I feel like he is watching me closely. His eyes, those dreamy but predatory eyes watches my every move. I could literally feel like he was looking at me to expose me, to expose my deepest secrets, secrets I would kil to have them concealed, but with Linc, just one move from him, his mouth on me and his hand in-between my legs, my entire being will open up to him on it's own accord, and when his fire burns me, my secrets will be revealed. Chapter 6 Linc had the house restructured, and so it doesn't hold much sentiment for me. I was slightly shocked when I first got in, but now it has ebbed. The mansion is like a luxurious minimalist hotel. Oddly, I felt comfortable and at ease. But I know I can't stay here for too long. I simply can't. "Um, so, about the apartment you would rent for me. How is that coming along?" I say, enunciating my words carefully. I see a tic in his jaw, and I swallow. I remember the way he asked me why I didn't want to stay with him as he held me in his arms earlier in his office. The nak=ed vulnerability in his eyes. The way he was looking at me, it scares me, hypnotize me and locks me in. "You just told me a few hours ago." He says, interlacing his svelte fingers on the table as he leans forward. I can't read the expression on his face, whether it is annoyance or amusement. "Yeah. But it is something that you can sort out in a really short time. Aren't you like a billionaire or something?" That was why Mom was besotted with him. Linc Tanner has been in Forbes. His architectural firm has worked on top multi-billion dollar projects across the country. He is dark and mysterious and a hot forty-one-year-old. "Yes, I am a billionaire." He says, with a smirk. "You are avoiding my question." The house has gone quiet. All the bright lighting has been switched for dimmer ones. I am sure all the staff have left. It is just us now. Coming to this realization opens me up to my forbidden thoughts about being alone with Linc. Wild things that had invaded my dreams for so long, just me and him alone in the house, starring at each other, reaching out to each other, eating out each other. "What if I simply don't want to get you an apartment? What if I don't want you to stay away from me? Why the he-ll would you be staying in some apartment when I have a mansion here you can stay in?" His smirk is gone, and he is pinning me to the spot with his dark eyes. My pulse starts racing. My mouth goes dry. "That is not what you promised!" I yell, getting out of my seat. What the heck does he mean he doesn't want me to stay away from him? "Ames, Ames darling. Sit down." He says, his voice is oddly calm and controlled. It only makes me angrier, and I flip my middle finger at him as I turn around to walk away. I don't hear him walking up to me till he grabs my wrist and spins me around to face him. The motion pulls my body too close, so we are inches away from each other. Twice in just one day, my breath escapes me in an audible gasp. "Why the he-ll are you so stubborn? It is kiling me keeping my hands to myself already, and you have to go and push me." He hisses under his breath at me, but I hear him clearly because we are very close. The expansive kitchen peels away from my vision. The house. The soft lights. Everything. All I can see is Linc, and up close, he is stunning. He's dangerous, he overwhelms me, he could literally set me on fire with thst forbidden mouth of his. I don't have any power when he is this close. My knees go weak. I forget my anger. "I can't stay here with you." I say quietly, my voice trembling. His hand holding my wrist is like a brand on my skin. Am I agreeing this accommodation thing? The house is huge. We can steer clear of each other for the duration of the three months. The firm is huge too. I can spend my internship there, and we will never run into each other. Nobody even has to know about our connection if I keep quiet about it. But the way my body involuntarily leans towards him, the way my belly erupts with liquid fire every time he looks down at my face, I just know. I couldn't possibly stay here alone with him without giving in and doing something I would surely regret. "Why?" He asks, his face a closed-off mask, his li-ps set in a tight line. Our faces are just inches apart from each other, my back is pressing against the hard edge of the polished wood of the dinner table, but I don't register the discomfort. There are too many sensations to be felt standing this close to Linc Tanner, that pain is temporary. "What do you mean, 'why?'" I throw back at him, breathing as regularly as I can, but my breaths come out choppy and raspy. I need to move away from him. "Because I don't understand it, Ames." He snaps, his grip on my wrist tightens. I wince, and then he looks at his hand like he didn’t realize he has been holding onto me all this while. He lets me go. "Okay, but why won't you let me go?" I pull my chin up at him, our li-ps barely inches apart now. I meant it as a defiant move, but one look from him and I regret it, but I don't back down. One look at my li-ps I shake. One look at my face accessing me, I'm soaked. "This is why." Linc covers the distance between us, and my world erupts in bright scattered lights as he claims my mouth.	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=13363&u	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	810	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	redtgb.com	DCO		https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=13363&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/455809717_839796481589975_8610924600163890728_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=FpYEtPqC1c8Q7kNvgF5_4vw&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AFjjR8G2wK6wVBABcJAQBXU&oh=00_AYBXc2VhdlTvW9B99arWrOXq3B3CWo_mjngEfkbWza213g&oe=670E3E2F	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,142,638	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2142630}'	Yes	2024-10-10 21:18	active	1606	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1 Amelia's POV "Hello, Amelia," the smooth baritone says over the phone, and my eyes go wide immediately. My pulse quickens as my brain produces a face to match the voice almost instantly. It is the one face I had tried so much to get over - the one face that makes my heart beat erratically. "Who is this?" I say, unable to keep the trembling out of my voice as I woefully pretend not to recognize his voice. "Tsk tsk tsk. You don't recognize my voice? That's too bad, Amelia," he says. I can hear the disappointment and slight amusement in his low, smooth baritone. It makes my pulse jump. It makes my mouth dry, even as I moisten my li-ps with my tongue. Ashley, my roommate and best friend, is watching me with her brows furrowed into a question mark across the room. I look away from her, cupping the phone closer to my ear. "What do you want, Mr. Tanner?" I whisper harshly. What could he be calling me about at this time of the night? It is 10 p.m. on a random Tuesday. We haven't spoken in three years since the funeral of my mom. I wanted nothing to do with him. I have successfully run away, hiding from him, hoping he would not be able to reach me. "I thought we agreed on you addressing me by just Linc." His voice cuts into me, but I can't pull the phone away from my ear. I am drawn, and yet my brain yells at me to just drop the call and block this new number. But I don't listen because he will just call me again. He will always find me, or I always allow myself to be found. Ashley, having sensed my need for privacy, stepped out of the room already. "Mr. Tanner," I take a deep, shaky breath to steady my nerves so I don't sound like a scared, squeaky mouse over the phone, "Why are you calling me at this time of the night with a strange number?" I fail; I bite down on my lower li-p in muffled anger. It's been so long since I heard his voice, his deep baritone voice that sends swarms of butterflies in my lower belly. "Because you blocked all my other numbers and cut everyone else off," he snaps. Though there is still that hint of amusement in his voice, like he is enjoying toying with my emotions like this. He knows what he's doing; he always does, and I swear on my life he could literally picture me shaking for him. "Yes, and?" I say with a brow raise like he can see me, hoping I'm doing a good work at acting unaffected and unbothered as though I hadn't mastur-bated an hour ago with his half-na-ked picture I saved on my phone from social media account. Hell yes! You can say I'm stalking him, too. God! Seeing him shirtless, his shorts hanging lower beneath his hi-p brought waves of forbidden feelings I never knew existed within me. "Ames, darling, you worry me," Linc Tanner, my stepfather breathes into the phone, and heat rises to my face at that danm nickname. That nickname coming out from his forbidden li-ps, capable of making my toes curl, my knees bend before him, taking all of him deep into my throat. "Don't call me that!" I yell, cutting him short. My face is going red. I hate the way my body reacts to him. Every part of me awakens at the sound of his voice. It terrifies me; it excites me. "I will call you what I want," he replies calmly and dangerously low and then continues in the same calm tone like I am not huffing and puffing over the phone at him, "It has been three years, and I needed to know how you were doing. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you," He pauses like he is rethinking his choice of words, and I hold my breath, refusing to think too much about the fact that he just said he hasn't been able to stop thinking about me, "Wondering how you were coping," he adds finally. I exhale. The sudden vulnerability in his voice drives a sharp sting directly to my heart. It hurts for a second, and then I pull my defensive walls up again, guarding that traitorous organ called the heart. "It is not in your place to worry about me. I am not your responsibility. I am doing perfectly fine on my own," I bite back, but deep down a surge of joy was gradually brimming. He obviously has not called me to talk about my shortcomings in the way I handled the aftermath of my mother's funeral three years ago. That is why I had his numbers blocked. I know Linc Tanner is rich enough to find me within days, but I hoped that common sense would tell him not to bother me regardless, and he didn't. "You know that is not true. I am your guardian; of course, it is in my place to worry about you," Linc says, his smooth baritone pierces me like a lash. I imagine him pulling his hand through his thick wavy jet-black hair in quiet frustration. It is one of the things I noticed about him immediately when I was first introduced to him four years ago. That thick midnight dark hair. For his age, it was ridiculous for his hair to still be that youthful looking, that mouthwatering, the hottest man I have ever set my eyes on. But that was Linc Tanner. A walking contradiction of a man. Chapter 2 I snap myself to reality when I realize I have started trailing off into memories I have tagged forbidden. this"So, what do you want now, stepfather?" I hear his light chuckle, and I can't help the flutter in my belly from absorbing the rich sound. I can almost smell him. I remember what he smelled like. God! it's imprinted in my brain. It is embarrassing, but I can admit that I look for that scent in every man I have gone out with since, but to no success. It belonged to Linc Tanner alone. Just like my silly heart. Mint, dark coffee, something dark and mysterious thrown in the mix and a whiff of something floral and yet overwhelmingly masculine. I used to smell him in the house before he even got to the room I was in, with my mom on his arm, dark onyx eyes seeking mine like a storm. "I kind of prefer Mr. Tanner to that stepfather title. Makes me feel old, and the way you say it adds a perverted undertone to it," he says after a moment. His tone is light; it is a rebuff he has used several times before when I used to call him that as a sort of childish rebellion to the dismay of my mother who insisted I call him by his name or worse, dad. "Whatever," I snap. I hate having to think about my mother or the period during that summer before I left for college when I had to stay with them, and it was low-key the worst few weeks of my life in that house. "Still that temper. It is good to know you haven't changed much, Ames darling," Linc says with a light chuckle. But he is wrong. At least I hope so. I hope I have changed enough. But with the way my heart flutters every time he calls me that nickname in that rich baritone of his, I can't be sure I have changed much, and it is embarrassing. "I need you to tell me why you have called, Linc. Cut the whole thing about you worrying about me and all that bullshiit. I know you have eyes on me. I have seen her. What do you want?" My anger comes back to shield my foolish heart; it wraps around my che-st like a vice. Whatever he has been paying the woman following me for the past three years should be halved. She is terrible at her job. She doesn't even try to be hidden. "Okay. Okay. Sheathe your claws, tigress," Linc says. There is no chuckling this time. He doesn't even try to deny it. It makes me angrier, but I bite my tongue. Once I hear what he is calling for, we will talk about that danm female bodyguard. "I need you to come back home for your break tomorrow. Your plane tickets are ready, everything is set in place," Linc says, his voice dangerously set and rigid, my mouth opens and closes. Again, I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. I am beyond dumbfounded. Not at the fact that he knows the exact timing of my summer break, but the finality and air of authority of his tone. "What!" Finally, I scream into the phone. "What the fck are you talking about?! I am not coming back! You better say you're joking right now!" I scream into the phone. Courtesy be danmed. I don't care if Ashley can hear me. I don't care if I am being rude. He has lost his mind if he thinks he can just command me to come back to New York out of the blue like this. After three whole years of no contact! Though I was the one that initiated the no-contact rule, that is beside the point. "You are and you will," Linc says and the calmness in his voice threatens to push me to the edge. He has no rights! Have I not made this clear enough! "I don't know how to say this nicely, Mr. Tanner, but I genuinely do not want anything to do with you. My mother is dead. She is not here anymore. I am not obligated to feel related to you because we are not related. I am not coming back to New York, and that is final," I say, breathing heavily. My eyes narrow on the floral pattern of my quilt, and I feel like I could go crazy with the way my heart is racing, flashes of forbidden memories running through my mind. Mental snapshots of Linc walking out of the luxurious infinity pool on the rooftop of his mansion and his immaculate figure, toned wide shoulders, long muscular legs like tree trunks, chiseled torso, me hiding behind the lounge door, watching him like a creep, the water dripping down his hairy front body, snaking into his navel, down his briefs with that noticeable bulge, and his dark eyes catching mine immediately like he knew I was there all along, watching him. "Amelia. Listen to me," Linc's domineering voice cuts into me, and I rip my focus away from those danm memories. That summer is cursed. I can't think of that time without feeling a heap of guilt and the sense of awakening into something bigger than myself, in those stolen glances, fantasies, and sleepless nights where I imagined what it would be like to be the one sharing Linc's bed instead of my mother. I felt treacherous even though me and my mother and I had never been particularly close. "No! I am not coming back, and you can't make me!" I yell. "Amelia!" Linc's annoyed voice snaps me to attention. I bite my tongue. Squeezing the phone in my hand. I grit my teeth in annoyance. I didn't have any specific plans for the holiday, though I was thinking about my internship options. Since it is my sophomore year, I am supposed to spend my summer break interning at any reputable architectural company that will take me. "It is something your mother wanted," Linc says, his voice going back to calm and collected. Of course. She would still continue to mess up my life even when she is no longer here. Chapter 3 It is aggravating, all the complex feelings she evokes in me. Our relationship wasn't the typical mother-daughter bond. Because she wasn't the typical mother by any means. Kathryn Dimitri was a socialite through and through. She was glamorous and loud and enjoyed going to dinner parties, soirees, any excuse to have fun and drink champagne, flirting with the throng of men who were always sniffing around her. It always stung when people noted how different we looked. They always looked at her elegant auburn bold beauty and my muted blonde prettiness and concluded I paled in comparison, just like my skin. Mother always threw her head back with a delightful laugh when those men paid her compliments at my expense. That was one of the reasons why I hated spending time at home. With her. She always made me feel like an unwanted attachment to her person. An attachment that never quite measured up. Sometimes, I think to myself that my attraction to Linc was a rebellion. It was a cowardly one because I never acted on any of my fantasies, but it was a rebellion nonetheless, and it felt good. When just three months into college, enjoying my freedom from her and that suffocating mansion where I had to hide my blushing face whenever Linc was in the room, I got the call that she had died in a car accident all the way in Paris on her way to another of her glamorous parties, I felt a wave of grief so huge, so encompassing and utterly confusing that my world paused. I went through the funeral in a muted daze. I faintly remember Linc holding me as I finally broke down and cried on the third night when I wanted to return to college. Wanted to escape. The reassuring way he held me. Tenderly. Like I was too fragile and could break apart against his huge body. I got on the plane and arrived back in college, and I could still smell his scent on me. I didn't wash the dress I wore for weeks. "She wanted you to intern at my firm. She wanted me to keep an eye on you. To take care of you and safeguard your future. You like to act tough, but you really have no one else in this world, and that makes me feel empathetic towards you. You can view me as this big bad monster stepfather and I don't care, but I do care about you, and I wouldn't sit back and watch you struggle when I could do something about it. Amelia, please. It would be for just three months. Come to New York. Come home," Linc says, the genuine sincerity in his voice bites at me. I blink back, furious tears, feeling the anger dissipating into that warm feeling I hate feeling towards him because it felt wrong. "Ames..." He says gently when I don't reply. I am too busy pushing back the lump in my throat. He knows he has touched a nerve because he is right. I am truly alone in this world. All of my mother's connections and circle of friends and even families, nobody gave a danm about me after the funeral. My late dad has family in Portugal, but we were not really close before he died. With my mom gone too, I was left alone, and it didn't hit as hard because before she died, I always felt alone, shuffling from boarding school to college, we never bonded in any special way. I was always alone in my little world. But in moments like this, when someone like Linc who knew me, knew my mother and I, reminds me how utterly alone I am, it breaks my heart. "Okay. I will come back to New York." My heart flutters at my resignation because I know there is nothing I could possibly do about it. I accept it. I guess I have to go back to fighting my forbidden attraction to my stepfather. For just three months. I can survive that long without doing anything I might regret. I hope. ***** Linc Tanner's POV: The golden blonde full-grown woman seated in front of me is not the soft-spoken, shy eighteen-year-old Amelia I remember. I am taken aback by how much she has grown, that eyes that could make a grown man weak, that full mouth that I eager to taste, but I manage to keep my face expressionless. She is stunning. When she walked in a minute ago, I couldn't take my eyes off her, my greedy eyes taking in every detail of her womanly curves. It made me tingle for all the wrong reasons. She is currently glaring at me from her position on the chair in front of my desk. I tell myself I have kept an eye on her over the years because of a sort of loyalty to Kathryn, but in reality, I just couldn't bear not knowing how Amelia was doing, couldn't bear thinking about her being in the arms of another man, moaning and crying out his name instead of mine. She is a brave, strong girl, but I couldn't just let her go. My body couldn't let her go. She made my heart ache. I'm most definitely proud of her just thinking of her out there, all on her own. She reminds me of myself at the same age, hustling against all odds to make a name for myself. "Why did you come here directly?" I ask, breaking the ice between us. It has been three years, and we didn't even exchange a smile. She is on guard towards me, and I am walking on eggshells, trying not to upset her. "I figured we should get to it immediately," Amelia says. The softness of her voice is gone, replaced by a sharp edge that is confident and so womanly. I shake my head to ward off any more misleading thoughts. "Oh c'mon, Amelia. I asked that they chauffeur you to the house." I thought she would appreciate the rest. But here she is, glaring at me. "Do you stay alone?" She asks, catching me off guard. "Yes," I say, cautiously. Her boldness and the way she is holding my eyes are making me feel uneasy. I don't remember her being this confident. I used to find her extreme shyness amusing then. Interesting. Now I find her confidence highly attractive. Erotic. Fvck! Linc. Goddammit! Control yourself. Chapter 4 We have some history between us from that one summer three years ago before she ran away to college. But I am proud of myself for keeping things in control when she was just an eighteen-year-old rebellious teen. Now that she is all grown, I can't promise that I would be able to control myself much. This woman sitting across from me could bring any man to his knees, and I don't fvcking care falling on my knees in front of her as her legs open up for me, taking in the scent of her arousal, tasting her. Merely looking at her, I know she tastes like pure sugar. "Then I am not staying in that house. You have to get a place for me," she says, not adding the unspoken part. That she doesn't want to stay alone with me. "It is a big house, Amelia." I tried to clear my voice, It is a mansion, but I understand if she doesn't want to stay with me. I guess that could be weird. Without Kathryn in the midst, what would we do with each other? I don't want to dwell on that train of thought. "I don't care." She folds her arms over her front body, and my eyes get drawn to her che-st. I want to peel my eyes away, but I am powerless against her quietly confident feminine aura. She is wearing a pale blue sundress with a black sweater over it, but the pale blue of the dress makes her eyes stand out so clearly, she radiates like a beam of sunlight sitting across from me. She used to be pale, but her complexion has matured with a golden tint that teases down her long graceful neck into her deep-V line. I yank my eyes up to meet hers; thankfully, she is looking out the window. I note the multiple piercings in her ears, and a chuckle escapes me as I imagine the fit that Kathryn would have thrown if she could see her. "What is so funny?" she snaps, turning to fix me with her startling blue eyes. "Nothing. I will have someone look for a place for you that is close to the firm. Fine?" "Yes. Thank you." I don't mention that she would stay in the house with me until we find a place. It is unnecessary; she knows. "Come, let me show you around," I say, getting up, eager to move around before finding myself distracted, watching her like a aroused freak. I walk to her side to take her hand; she ignores me and tries to get up on her own. She takes a step forward, and it all happens too fast. She trips on her feet in front of me, falling backward with her eyes wide in terror. I shooot forward, grabbing her by her slim waist instead of her outstretched hand. I pull her forward until she is stable on her feet; our bodies collide, and I hear the soft gasp leave her full li-ps. A headiness clouds my thoughts. Her body is intoxicatingly soft pressed against me like this. My primal reaction startles me as all the blood rushes southward. Our faces are inches from each other; her large doe-like eyes blink up at me, and her rosy li-ps are slightly open. It takes all of my self-control to not just crash my mouth to hers and taste them. God knows how badly I have always wanted that. "Why do you not want to stay at the house with me?" I ask, ripping my eyes away from her tempting li-ps to look into her eyes. They hold mine with a mixture of fear, anticipation, and defiance. The combination makes my blood rush faster. "You know why," Amelia breathes, so close, so overwhelmingly stunning. Soft and dangerous. Grown and lethal. She overshadows my common sense, even at just eighteen. I only managed to stay away because of Kathryn, her mother. But now, three hard years later, she is in my arms, and there are no hindrances. I hold onto her waist tightly; she doesn't resist my touch, but she is not exactly leaning into me. She is frozen in place, and I get the feeling that if I let go, she would run. I can't lose her again. Danming all consequences, I lean in; my vision narrows in on the most perfect pair of li-ps I have ever seen, the whole world quietens with a hush. Chapter 5 Amelia's POV "Mr. Tanner, I have the reports..." A cheery voice interrupts the moment. "Oh! I am sorry." The woman's surprised, high-pitched voice intrudes on the madness that is my lust-filled brain and snaps me out of my reverie. His strong arm around my waist loosens its grip, and I take the opportunity to move away from the furnace of the man, my heart thundering at what almost happened. I didn't even hear the door open. His firm li-ps only grazed mine before the interruption, but I feel like it was more with the way my heart is beating fast. I have not been here longer than an hour, and I have already found myself in his arms. We almost kissed. And I hoped to survive three whole months with him without doing anything I might regret? That seems like such a practical joke now. Linc is forbidden, a no-go area, he's fire, if I get too close, he would burn me. Seeing Linc's trim, muscled figure in his form-fitting grey suit, his devastatingly handsome, resistant-to-aging face with those dark, piercing onyx eyes has reminded me just how easily my body gives in to him. His quiet, effective charm has reminded me why I ran. Why that summer really tough for me. Fighting this forbidden attraction to my middle-aged stepfather, who is forty-one while I am just twenty-one. He is literally old enough to be my father. But yet he pulls me. And I am powerless once he pins me with those eyes. I am weak. My body surrenders without much resistance. "Drop them on the desk," he says, his dark eyes still trained on me, his back to the woman frozen at the door glaring at me with such venom it scares me. I move further away. I need to escape him. But I know it is futile. Linc would find me. This attraction between us feels inevitable now. There is a quiet countdown ringing like a third heartbeat between us. Coming back was a mistake. Linc Tanner is not the kind of man one forgets. Or moves on from. I still feel the same way as I did three years ago, if not stronger. And now there is one less excuse as to why we shouldn't give in to this dark desire. "Uhm, sir, it needs your signature so I can send it back to..." "Charlotte, drop them on the desk!" Linc raised voice startles me and the woman, who quickly drops the files and hurries out. Linc doesn't turn away from me. He keeps his eyes on me, watching me like a hunter hunting his prey. I try to swallow, but my mouth is dry. Naked hunger is present in the depth of those shimmery dark eyes, and I have to clentch my fists together to gain some control over my senses. This is all shades of wrong. And yet so right. So necessary. It is official, I have lost my danm mind. How the hel are we going to sleep in the same house tonight without something forbidden happening between us? I can almost picture it, and it makes my pulse race faster. "Um. I should go." I say when I reach the door. Where am I going? I have no idea but I know I have to get away from this office right now before I find myself climbing my stepfather like a tree right here in his office. I know the nak-ed hunger in his eyes reflects mine. I am just as aroused. Just as willing to be reckless. Caution was thrown to the wind as soon as I agreed to come back. "Okay." His usually smooth baritone comes out cracked, he pauses and clears his throat, he starts walking towards me and my heart skips a beat, but then he turns to the left, towards his desk and I blink back my disappointment. "Take a tour of the firm. Choose whatever department you want to intern at. Then we can go to dinner." His mouth is a set line as he settles at his desk like he wasn't just about to kiss me a moment ago. "Dinner?" I croak, still visibly shaken up by what almost happened between us. I still feel the weight of his strong arm wound tightly around my waist. The possessiveness of his hold. The way his eyes narrowed in on my face before he leaned in to me for the kiss. It all makes me feel heady. "Yes. I made a reservation." He says looking up to meet my eyes, I hold his gaze. "I don't feel up to that." I say, looking away first as his eyes bore into me. One day, I will wi-n our spontaneous silent staring battle. "What? Let me guess, you are not hungry?" He asks with a small chuckle. It brings flashbacks of that summer three years ago when I used to deny being hungry so I could stay away from him and my mother. Only to sneak back to the kitchen at midnight to raid the fridge for leftovers. Linc caught me several times and the embarrassment still feels so heavy right now with the way he is watching me. Mischievous amusement shining in his eyes. "Fvck off." I snap. I can't stand his teasing in moments like this. I hate that he knows me all too well. "Now, now, Ames darling. I don't appreciate that tone." He says but his voice is still teasing and light. I can't believe we almost kissed just a moment ago and here he is, teasing. He confuses me. And somehow, that seems to be the allure. Other than the fact that he is my fcking stepfather. "Whatever. I am not going out to dinner with you." I cross my arms, his eyes follow the motion and heat rises up my cheeks. A moment passes between us. An impasse. "Okay, we will eat at home. I'll call my private chef." He says at last. I can't argue with that, so I just nod in passive agreement and push the door behind my back so I can escape the office. Escape his impossible charm. ***** "So, which department are you going to intern at?" Linc says, wiping his mouth with a triangle shaped napkin. The table is being cleared by the chef's assistants, I nod my appreciation to them for a great home dining experience. Linc doesn't even acknowledge them. "I don't know yet." I say because I truly don't. His firm is so large. So multifaceted. I have so many options but I have narrowed it down to either the creative designing or engineering departments since I have majored in both at college. "Okay. Take your time." He says. I refuse to allow myself feel the impact of his smooth baritone as it washes over me across the dining table. "Yeah." I should probably add my thanks but I don't. The staff finishes clearing out the table and they leave immediately, leaving us alone to our awkwardness. I swallow. The soft light of the overhead chandelier is cast directly on my face and I feel like he is watching me closely. His eyes, those dreamy but predatory eyes watches my every move. I could literally feel like he was looking at me to expose me, to expose my deepest secrets, secrets I would kil to have them concealed, but with Linc, just one move from him, his mouth on me and his hand in-between my legs, my entire being will open up to him on it's own accord, and when his fire burns me, my secrets will be revealed. Chapter 6 Linc had the house restructured, and so it doesn't hold much sentiment for me. I was slightly shocked when I first got in, but now it has ebbed. The mansion is like a luxurious minimalist hotel. Oddly, I felt comfortable and at ease. But I know I can't stay here for too long. I simply can't. "Um, so, about the apartment you would rent for me. How is that coming along?" I say, enunciating my words carefully. I see a tic in his jaw, and I swallow. I remember the way he asked me why I didn't want to stay with him as he held me in his arms earlier in his office. The nak=ed vulnerability in his eyes. The way he was looking at me, it scares me, hypnotize me and locks me in. "You just told me a few hours ago." He says, interlacing his svelte fingers on the table as he leans forward. I can't read the expression on his face, whether it is annoyance or amusement. "Yeah. But it is something that you can sort out in a really short time. Aren't you like a billionaire or something?" That was why Mom was besotted with him. Linc Tanner has been in Forbes. His architectural firm has worked on top multi-billion dollar projects across the country. He is dark and mysterious and a hot forty-one-year-old. "Yes, I am a billionaire." He says, with a smirk. "You are avoiding my question." The house has gone quiet. All the bright lighting has been switched for dimmer ones. I am sure all the staff have left. It is just us now. Coming to this realization opens me up to my forbidden thoughts about being alone with Linc. Wild things that had invaded my dreams for so long, just me and him alone in the house, starring at each other, reaching out to each other, eating out each other. "What if I simply don't want to get you an apartment? What if I don't want you to stay away from me? Why the he-ll would you be staying in some apartment when I have a mansion here you can stay in?" His smirk is gone, and he is pinning me to the spot with his dark eyes. My pulse starts racing. My mouth goes dry. "That is not what you promised!" I yell, getting out of my seat. What the heck does he mean he doesn't want me to stay away from him? "Ames, Ames darling. Sit down." He says, his voice is oddly calm and controlled. It only makes me angrier, and I flip my middle finger at him as I turn around to walk away. I don't hear him walking up to me till he grabs my wrist and spins me around to face him. The motion pulls my body too close, so we are inches away from each other. Twice in just one day, my breath escapes me in an audible gasp. "Why the he-ll are you so stubborn? It is kiling me keeping my hands to myself already, and you have to go and push me." He hisses under his breath at me, but I hear him clearly because we are very close. The expansive kitchen peels away from my vision. The house. The soft lights. Everything. All I can see is Linc, and up close, he is stunning. He's dangerous, he overwhelms me, he could literally set me on fire with thst forbidden mouth of his. I don't have any power when he is this close. My knees go weak. I forget my anger. "I can't stay here with you." I say quietly, my voice trembling. His hand holding my wrist is like a brand on my skin. Am I agreeing this accommodation thing? The house is huge. We can steer clear of each other for the duration of the three months. The firm is huge too. I can spend my internship there, and we will never run into each other. Nobody even has to know about our connection if I keep quiet about it. But the way my body involuntarily leans towards him, the way my belly erupts with liquid fire every time he looks down at my face, I just know. I couldn't possibly stay here alone with him without giving in and doing something I would surely regret. "Why?" He asks, his face a closed-off mask, his li-ps set in a tight line. Our faces are just inches apart from each other, my back is pressing against the hard edge of the polished wood of the dinner table, but I don't register the discomfort. There are too many sensations to be felt standing this close to Linc Tanner, that pain is temporary. "What do you mean, 'why?'" I throw back at him, breathing as regularly as I can, but my breaths come out choppy and raspy. I need to move away from him. "Because I don't understand it, Ames." He snaps, his grip on my wrist tightens. I wince, and then he looks at his hand like he didn’t realize he has been holding onto me all this while. He lets me go. "Okay, but why won't you let me go?" I pull my chin up at him, our li-ps barely inches apart now. I meant it as a defiant move, but one look from him and I regret it, but I don't back down. One look at my li-ps I shake. One look at my face accessing me, I'm soaked. "This is why." Linc covers the distance between us, and my world erupts in bright scattered lights as he claims my mouth.	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=13363&u	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	810	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	redtgb.com	DCO		https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=13363&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/455809717_839796481589975_8610924600163890728_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=FpYEtPqC1c8Q7kNvgF5_4vw&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AFjjR8G2wK6wVBABcJAQBXU&oh=00_AYBXc2VhdlTvW9B99arWrOXq3B3CWo_mjngEfkbWza213g&oe=670E3E2F	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
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2,143,233	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2143235}'	No	2024-10-10 21:18	active	1606	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1 A Messy Life and the Mafia Six months ago, I was a promising med student on the verge of all my dreams coming true, but now I’m just a waitress trying to start over in a new city. I know this restaurant I work at has ties to the infamous Onyx Mafia, but I didn’t have much choice—it's the best-paying job I could find. Besides, the scariest thing about working here isn’t the Mafia, it is the man at table eight flagging me down, obviously fuming. “What looks wrong here?” He snaps and I scan table eight's orders. Foie gras for the blonde in red, Peking duck for the pouty daughter—check. But the impatient bald man tapping his fingers? He got the risotto, not the ribeye currently in front of him. A cold sweat sweeps down my spine as I look between the squinting gaze of the man and the squiggles that are my handwriting. I still write like a surgeon, yet another reminder of my failed dreams. "Wait, I'm sorry... you ordered--" My hands tremble, and my heart sinks as I realize the kitchen couldn’t decipher my handwriting and just took a guess. Lucky me, their guess was wrong. "I-I think the kitchen--" Before I can finish my sentence, Jessica descends upon us like a vulture, risotto in hand. "Apologies for the inconvenience," she chimes in, her voice dripping with faux sympathy. "Elise here is still learning the ropes." "I can tell," the man responds curtly, his attention entirely on Jessica, silently dismissing me. There goes my tip. "Sir, I noticed you’re drinking the 1984 Chateau. Let me send another round on the house for your troubles," Jessica offers breathlessly, her bosom on display as she leans in, her eyes batting just like they did back in high school. The man grunts in agreement as her fingers dig into my arm like talons. She whispers through clenched teeth, "Kitchen. Now." I bow my head obediently as I follow her into the chaos of the kitchen. When I moved here, I promised things were going to be different. I would be no one’s stepping stool, and yet here I am again, at the mercy of another girl who appears oblivious to the fact that we graduated high school. “Elise struck again, boys!” Tony, the sous chef, calls out, his laughter echoing through the kitchen. “What was it this time? Dropped another soup? Tripped and broke all the glasses?” In my defense, the soup incident happened because a man molested me, and Jessica tripped me while I was carrying glasses for an 18-person table. “Oh, tonight she gave one of our regulars the wrong meal.” “It’s the kitchen’s fault. I ordered a risotto, not a ribeye."I retort, pushing my glasses up as I glare at Jessica. “And who could tell with that chicken scratch handwriting?” Tony snorts. “Remember she wanted to be a surgeon,” Jessica sneers. “Doctors notoriously have terrible handwriting, but not waitresses.” The other kitchen staff snicker at her remark. They all think I went to med school and couldn’t cut it. But they don't know the truth, and it would be worse if they did. I take a deep breath, trying to push down my anger. "You were supposed to be a surgeon, marry Sirius, live your perfect little life," she snaps back, the mention of his name, Sirius, still a punch to the gut after all these years. I bite my lip to stifle the retort that threatens to spill from my lips and look down at my tennis shoes, a lump forming in my throat. I can still remember the feeling of the day he disappeared. I told everyone he loved me, that he would be back, and that he would never just leave me, but they were all right. He was gone. He didn’t want me anymore and wasn’t brave enough to say it to my face before disappearing. I don’t know what I’d do if I ever saw him again. It’d be a combination of running into his arms, waiting to see every bit of his life I missed, and kicking him where the sun doesn't shine. "But then you ended up at the bottom, where you’re meant to be." I hold my breath. I can’t show Jessica she’s getting to me. "Good thing Sirius came to his senses like we all knew he would," Jessica retorts. "Once he was done slumming it, he ran away from you as fast as possible. I mean, you practically ran him out of town." The lump in my throat swells as memories of his abandonment flood back, the pain still fresh. "You know what--" "Those better are words of gratitude, Elise, because I am two seconds away from firing you," Jessica interrupts, her smirk widening as she relishes in my discomfort. I swallow back my retort, facing Mr. Thompson, the restaurant manager. Mr. Thompson's stern gaze pierces through me as he approaches. "Elise, why do I have Mr. Kelsey asking for a free bottle of wine for his troubles?" "I-I'm sorry, Mr. Thompson," I stammer, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'll do better, I promise." "You have been promising to do better for weeks, Elise. That is not enough anymore," he snaps. "I'll work harder, I swear," I plead, desperation creeping into my voice. "Please." Mr. Thompson holds up a hand to silence me. "You've got one more chance, Elise, but you’re out of here if I hear one more complaint. Do you understand?" I nod frantically."Yes, Mr. Thompson. I won't let you down. I promise." He scoffs, clearly unconvinced. "For the rest of your shift, you are exclusive to the VIPs upstairs," he continues, his tone stern. "They’re too drunk to notice your insolence." "Yes, sir," I whisper. "And you better be on your best behavior because the Mafia king is here," Mr. Thompson warns. "And if I don’t have your head, he will." I swallow hard, the weight of his words settling like a lead weight in the pit of my stomach, as I nod, feeling a shiver run down my spine. Mr. Thompson storms off into his office, leaving Jessica behind me with a wicked gleam in her eye. "Looks like you're on thin ice, Elise," Jessica says, her tone dripping with faux sympathy. "Better watch your step." "Why? You’re going to trip me?" "I would never, but since you are exclusive to VIPs," Jessica hands me a tray of appetizers too heavy for me to hold without almost falling over. "Take this to table 19... the King’s subjects are there." I take a deep breath as I walk out of the kitchen and into the dining room. But as I look up at the men sitting upstairs, a wave of dread washes over me, making me want to run in the opposite direction. They're overly comfortable, as if they own the place as if they own the world. And in a way, they do. The rumors swirling around the restaurant's ownership, whispers of connections to the mafia, suddenly feel all too real. Each step closer to the VIP room feels heavier, as if I am dragging myself closer. As I approach, the men’s eyes leering over me like predators sizing up their prey. The minute I set down the appetizers, a hand grips the back of my leg, sending a shiver down my spine. "Hey there, sweetheart," the man slurs, his breath reeking of booze as he pulls me into his lap. "Why don’t you clock out and hang with the big dogs?" I squirm, feeling his hand wander where it shouldn't."No. Stop it. I have to get back to work," I protest, trying to push him away. But he only laughs, his grip tightening as his friends jeer and egg him on. I squirm, feeling something hard poking me, I begin to panic. He hisses in excitement in my ear. “Yeah, baby, keep doing that.” I try to pull away, causing my glasses to go flying. Great, now I’m blind too. I struggle with my body, tears stinging as I attempt to slide out of his lap, “I need my glasses.” “You do not need glasses for what we are going to do.” He pinches my chin, leaning in as if he is going to kiss me, but the sound of a growling, cleared throat causes him to pause. Panic rises in my throat as I realize that none of these guys will help me and that going against the Mafia for some random waitress is a losing battle. "In my restaurant, we do not tolerate harassment of women," the voice declares, cutting through the VIP, firm and unwavering. The handsy man practically throws me onto the floor as he looks up at the gentleman standing in front of him. I turn to see, in my blurry haze, the silhouette of a man looming protectively over me, his presence exuding authority and strength. The handsy man stutters as the man approaches us, “King. She approached me.” “Really? Are you calling me a liar?” The Mafia King’s voice is calm and sharp, like a shard of ice. “ No, my King, but she is a call girl!” I snap, looking back at the handsy man before turning to the King to plead my case. But I pause. The King’s head is tilted as he looks at me. The King’s voice is laced with disappointment and concern, “A call girl?” Chapter 2 Mafia King Knows Me？ “What, no!” I stand up, “I am not a call girl!” My hand instinctively reaches for my glasses, but they're not there. With a frown, I protest, glaring at the accusing handsyMafia man. “No call girl is too nice for what she does on her knees.” Jessica stands next to the stairs, arms crossed, leaning on the railing. “She solicited me. Asked me to come get her after work because she needs to make some extra money,” the handsy man pleads, but the King stares at me. Jessica saunters over, her hand casually trailing between her bosoms and up to her collarbone as she walks. She stops in front of the King, a coy smile playing on her lips as she leans close to whisper in his ear. “Think about it, darling. A woman who can get close enough to you without suspicion and weasels her way into the VIP area. Doesn’t that sound like a call girl?” The movements Jessica makes intrigue me as if she can turn on and off her alluring appeal. The King's gaze never leaves my direction as Jessica whispers in his ear. Slowly, he straightens up and pushes Jessica slightly back. “You seem to know a lot about the position of a call girl,” King says, but Jessica playfully laughs that off. “I admire how they always seem to get their way.” Gears start to turn in my mind as I squint at Jessica’s blurry form. She looks innocent and inviting, as if she is just flirting, but she is fully prepared to go much further than that. But I can see past her facade now, despite my broken glasses and the blurry world they left me in. Squinting, I can just make out the calculated way she moves and the sharpness in her eyes. I interject before Jessica can respond, “King, look at her body language. Even through the blur, she’s loose, inviting, and sensual as she speaks to you.” The King's gaze shifts from me back to Jessica, a new sense of awareness in his eyes. “When you came in here my body language was stiff, closed off. If I were a call girl like her, I wouldn’t be a good one, would I?” Jessica's facade wavers for a split second before she regains her composure, letting a seductive smile spread across her face. The King lightly chuckles as he pushes Jessica away, “It takes more than a brain full of silicone and fake bosoms to be a good call girl, but I see your point.” “It’s an act some guys like, King, a little bit of fight,” Jessica goes to reach for the King again, but he grabs her wrist tightly, his body tense. “Do not touch me again,” the King drops her hand with disgust, wiping his hand on his jeans as he continues. “ I have let you humor me with your lies, but do not treat me like a fool.” “No, King I would never,” the King gives her a humorless laugh as he invades her space menacingly. “You think you could play me for a fool because I am a man I must be ruled by my hormonal drive? Is that it?” The King looks her over in disgust and turns away, “Get out of my sight.” “King, you have to be protected from her.” Jessica approaches him again, feigning innocence, but the King’s subjects block her as he moves closer to me. “You underestimate me because I have shown you kindness. I will not make that mistake again. ” He slowly looks over at Jessica, and I can tell from how her knees buckle that she sees the darkness in his eyes. “ You're fired.” “King, I’m sorry I-” “You have three minutes to exit. I would use that time wisely.” Fear strikes across Jessica’s face as she scrambles back down the stairs. I bow my head, looking at my tennis shoes, unsure of the punishment I may receive. I don’t know how long I have been looking down, but a hand holding my broken glasses evades my eyeline. “Oh, thank you.” “They are shattered, can you see otherwise?” I shake my head, not allowing my hair to fall into my face. The King pinches my chin forcing me to look at him, and I can make out the sharpness of his jawline. His touch shoots a spark of electricity down my spine, and my breath hitches. “I will-” “I have contacts downstairs. You know, in case of emergencies.” The King looks at me as if a thousand questions are running through his mind. “Why are you working here?” I struggle back, slighting, and the King releases me. Jessica was right in a way I was supposed to be so much more. I was supposed to be a surgeon. I had the brains for it. The steady hands. The determination, but it is not often a stranger can see you are meant to be so much more than what you are. In the blur, I try to find his eyes before I respond, “Most people can’t do what they truly want to.” The King nods sharply before taking a step back and clearing his throat. “I don’t want you in the VIP rooms anymore. They’re filled with dangerous people, and normal people shouldn’t be around them.” “You sound worried.” I laugh at the King’s warning. “I am serious, Elise. I don’t want you up here again.” The King’s voice is sharp, and I straighten at the command. “As you wish, King.” His lips in a tight line, he nods taking a small step to the right, allowing me to shimmy past him. I stop and turn around, “Thank you for everything.” He doesn’t respond, opting for a sharp nod. I walk forward, clutching my broken glasses, looking down when another figure blocks my exit. The blonde guy with an easygoing smile clears his throat as he nervously scratches the back of his head, “Hey," he says, his voice wavering slightly. "I'm sorry about what happened back there. Are you okay?" "I'll survive," I reply with a shrug, avoiding eye contact. His gaze lingers on me for a moment before he nods slowly. “Well, I was wondering if you would give me a chance to show you not everyone in the Mafia is not a pig?” I give him a small smile, feeling the heat of someone’s eyes behind me. “I don’t think my boyfriend would like that very much.” The snort causes me to turn around, and the King blends into the black leather couch, looking at me, “Boyfriend?” “A great boyfriend. If that matters?” The King coughs, “Not at all.” He looks over at a disappointed Jacob. “I just told her to steer clear of us, and you ask her out on a date in front of me.” “What shot would I have after this if you ban her?” “None. You get no chance.” The King growls, and I back up towards the stairs. “Leave now, Elise Caroline. I don’t want to see you up here again.” His warning is sharp and declarative. With a small squeak, I scurry down the stairs, but I pause before I enter the kitchen. I never introduced myself. I never told the King my name, yet he said it not once but twice, and the second time, he used my middle name. Does the Mafia King know me? Do I know him? Chapter 3 Rumors and Crisis I don’t breathe until the kitchen doors slam behind me. How does the Mafia King know my name, surely he knows all his employees' names. He may just be a great boss. Right, that’s it. The Mafia King is a great boss who would’ve thought? My breathing slows and I realize I’m so caught up in my thoughts I don’t feel the entire kitchen looking at me until Toni clears his throat. “Elise?” I look up at him, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but I don’t respond. Instead, Dawn, the pastry chef, approaches me with flour-covered hands. “Hey girly, are you okay? Did the King…hurt you?” I shake my hand no, a strangled breath releases from my lips, and Dawn sighs, squeezing my cheeks. “Good because the King has no right hurting a girl as innocent as you.” “Like that would’ve been his first time!” Kelsey, the saucier, laughs in the corner of the kitchen. “Kels, you’re not helping,” Dawn snaps, but Toni approaches us wickedly. “I heard his favorite way to murder is the bloody eagle.” “Toni!” I look at Dawn’s horrified face as she runs to cover my ears. “What's the bloody eagle?” I whisper. The dread I had swimming in my gut since the King first laid eyes on me bubbles to the surface. I feel like I could vomit. “All I’m going to say is ribs pulled through the back. If you want more details, do your research online.” I would not, but Kelsey laughs, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t put it past him. The King treats his subjects like their commodities, completely replaceable. He’s the youngest King ever, and you don’t get to be King in your twenties without a trail of blood behind you.” Kelsey points her ladle at us in warning, “So watch ya’ step, or the King will gut ya’ like a fish!” “Or hang your head above his fireplace, I heard the king loves a trophy, and a pretty head like yours would be perfect.” Toni swats at my hair and Dawn pushes him back to his station. “What is all this racket?! Kelsey you’re messing around and broke the sauce!” The Head Chef, Yolanda enters the kitchen with a stern look in her eyes, “And you! Why aren’t you running my plates?” “I-I…” I rub my hands back and forth, feeling the tension of being in trouble for the third time tonight. “She just had an interaction with the King. Leave her alone.” Dawn snaps. Dawn and Yolanda are childhood best friends, and Dawn is the only one who can talk to Yolanda that way and still have her job. Yolanda’s face pales as she walks closer to me, “You interacted with the King and made it out alive? Count your lucky stars.” Yolanda approaches me cautiously and I don’t realize all the stress is forcing tears to burn in my eyes. “That man is cold-blooded like a snake.” Despite the bile I balance in the back of my throat, I look Yolanda in the eye and shake my head, “No, he protected me. He knew my name.” “He knew your name because you have a name tag on your shirt.” Yolanda flicks my name tag and I look down at it, a pang of disappointment shivering through me. “Protect you?” Dawn questions, “You didn’t say anything about the King protecting you.” “That may be worse. A dangerous man like him may like you, want you.” Yolanda whispers. My eyes widened. My skin flushes as Yolanda and Dawn share a look with each other. The King knew my name. The King wants me. I remember the way he said boyfriend as if it was the most disgusting word on his tongue. But just as I spiral, Dawn and Yolanda break into laughter. “Girl, bless your heart! A man that fine wants you. You better be over the moon happy.” Dawn lightly hits her rag on my right arm, and I flinch, holding my breath. “I mean, those gray eyes are just delicious!” Kelsey chimes in. “Nope, it has to be black curly hair.” Those eyes, that hair remind me of Sirius. His eyes could be a storm with everyone else and clear with me. How a single curl always danced in the middle of his forehead, and I’d spend all day pushing it back. The days when he was my Sirius. The laughter snaps me out of my daze. “I bet he wakes up with his hair like that, just messy and perfect!” “Yolanda, I don’t know if you want to be him or sleep with him?” “Does it matter?” The entire kitchen erupts into laughter. “I would take him any way I could get him. He is so fine!” “So how did he look up close, Elise? A walking daydream, huh?” Kelsey leans over her pot, wiggling her eyebrows. I hide my head slightly, blush to creep up the apple of my cheeks. “I don’t know,” I show the kitchen my glasses. “I broke my glasses. All I could see was tall, charming, and hot.” The entire kitchen boos. “You get close to the Mafia King, and your glasses break!” Dawn pouts, pushing me away, and I giggle for the first time in this entire situation. “Sorry, I can’t tell you how hot he is. You’re going to have to figure that out yourselves!” “Hey! Why is no one helping me out on the floor?” An upset waiter enters the kitchen looking around at us. “I’ll be right there, just let me get my contacts.” I head towards the break room and rummage inside my purse, revealing my contact lenses. I begin to replace my contacts, looking into the crappy workplace mirror, but once my vision is clear, all I can see is my missing earring. One of my silver earrings from Sirius, he got me for our last anniversary together. He’s already missing. I can lose the last thing he’s ever given me. I look over at the floor near my locker, but I know where it is. It’s in the VIP area. I turn on my heel towards the VIP area. The Mafia King's warning echoed in my mind, I don’t want you in the VIP rooms anymore. It’s filled with the type of dangerous people, normal people shouldn’t be around.” I push his warning into the back of my mind. With a deep breath, I start walking up the stairs. I’ll be quick! In and out before anyone notices. As I enter the VIP area, I immediately fall to my knees, crawling around for the earring and hiding from the boisterous men laughing around the bar. I freeze when the King’s voice booms through the area, “You’re lucky I don’t collect your freaking head!” The music in the VIP clicks off. “Boss, it was just a girl!” The man snaps back and the entire area seems to hold their breath as the twinkle of something catches my eye. “A girl under my protection. The same way you are under my protection.” The King's voice is even and controlled again, “And don’t I always protect mine?” I contort my body, grabbing the dangled earring from underneath the couch. “Let me provide you with this small mercy. I promise you the alternative is lethal, and it would be a shame to murder you when you’re still useful to me.” The club music clicks back on as if nothing happened. I sit up on the floor, fixing the earring in my ear. When the footsteps descend towards me. I am not quick enough when I hear the humorless laughter of the handsy man, “You are the freaking pain of my existence. I’m on grunt duty because of you.” I look up, my eyes darting between him and the stairs. If I jump up and run. I should make it. I will make it. I propel myself off the floor, running towards the stairs, but the handsy man is quicker. He pulls me back by my hair, caging me in. My breath hitches as cold metal digs into my side. His breath gushes over my face in puffs thick with the scent of tobacco and gin. “ Go on and scream. No one will hear you, and it’ll only make this more fun for me.” Chapter 4 The Mafia King is My Ex? “ Go on and scream. No one will hear you, and it’ll only make this more fun for me.” His fingernails dig into my wrist, but I bite back any response watching his nostrils flare. “You got me suspended from duties because you rather spread your legs for the King than me.” He pulls me against him, snarling at my confident facade. I look down at the mark forming on my wrist, keeping my voice as even as possible, I say, “I do not want the King. I do not know the King.” He pushes me against the brick wall, and with my better judgment, I whimper, gripping the back of my head, “You dare lie to me? After all you have done, you freaking lie to me?” Spit sprays over my face, his eyes bulge out of his head as he holds me against the wall. The concrete dug into my skin. “Please,” I whisper. “Please?! Please! You purposefully lead me to the freaking slaughter, shaking your tight body for the king, begging him to punish me for your fault.” His wet breath drips down my face, and I look away towards the hallway leading to the King. I didn’t know the King. He did not need to come to my rescue, yet he did. Maybe the King liked me the way Dawn said, but what did it matter? I did not want him. “I am not sorry you were punished. I said no.” “Oh, so this is the little game we’re going to play? You say no, and mean yes.” A greedy, devious smile spread across the man's lips as if the idea of conquering me in such a manner excited him. “You little freaking tease.” His palm digs into my waist, and my eyes water over, straining to look down the hallway to the King. “No.” “You like causing trouble, huh? You like luring men in to watch them. ” I hear the click of his belt, a dooming sound. “You need to be taught a lesson, and I love punishing little girls with fresh mouths.” A voice and the click of a door opening cut the tension. “Boss, who even was she?” He pulls me into a corner. He pulls me in front of him and presses himself on me. His gun is tucked under my chin, and his arm is wrapped around my waist as he whispers in my ear, “Don’t make a freaking sound.” I watch the King walk down the hallway, most of his subjects a step or two behind him. The young member with dirty brown hair and colorful tattoos walks almost in step with him. The King’s voice almost sounds bored as he responds. “That is none of your concern, Taylor.” “You punished one of your own men for her. I think you owe us an explanation.” Taylor snaps, stopping the King in his steps. “Owe?” He slowly turns, and I can see the King’s face clearly through a sliver of light. The girls downstairs didn’t do him any justice. He was breathtaking. Dressed in a tailored black suit, the fabric stretched taut over his muscular frame, his white button-up exposed the tattoo in swirling patterns on his chest and up part of his neck. His curly black hair was gelled back into a style of sorts, but two unruly curls escaped and framed his face. His eyes swirled like a storm, erupting and flashing between the calming gray and black. He looked almost like a tortured angel. He almost looks like Sirius. “You think I owe you?” The King snarls at Taylor, who instantly turns pale. “N-no, I just mean-” “You just mean I should allow subordinates to run rampant to assault and pillage like average thugs.” “Sir it just seemed like you cared about the girl too much.” “What I choose to care and not care about is none of your freaking business, but Dan was punished for lying to me,” The King leans in closer, “ I was feeling gracious, so he was given a slap on the wrist, next time I will cut out his tongue. But my kindness has expired.” “King.” Desperation drips in the boy’s tone, but the King dismisses him with the flick of his wrist, and a man drags Taylor away. “Step foot in my territory again, and you will be destroyed on sight.” The King continues walking forward as if he did not send someone to their death, but the gasp that escapes my lips makes him pause. “Dan?” The handsy man behind me shifts, a grunt escaping his throat. Then a shot rang out, something sliced through the air, and Dan shrieked, falling to his knees. “I show you kindness, and this is how you repay me?” The King’s voice is deathly low as he approaches, and I dare not move. I dare not breathe. “The call girl freaking deserves it.” A low rumble of laughter escapes the King, lowering himself over a bleeding Dan. He pushes the barrel of the gun into the wound in his shoulder. “You are freaking mad, murdering innocents just because they won’t sleep with you?” The King pistol whips Dan into the floor, and a strangled sound fills the room. Dan spits onto the floor. “This is the thanks I get for letting you keep your life?” “My King, she seduced me-” The King grips him by the collar dragging him close. “You think it is wise to lie again?” Dan audibly swallows, a whimper escaping his lips. The King snaps his finger, and a buff, bald man with the word mercy over his knuckles comes up behind him. “Yes, boss?” “I want his tongue and right hand.” With a curt nod, the man grips Dan by his injured shoulder and drags him deeper into the VIP area. “I thought I told you not to come back in here.” The King looks in the direction of a weeping, sounding annoyed. I slowly at the King from the corner of my eye, my mouth completely dry and my hands feverishly shaking. The scars on the King’s face glitter in the low lighting making my stomach twist, so I focus on the silver, twisted ring on his ring finger. It looks almost like tree branches gripping his skin. “I-I left something here.” “What?” His empty grey eyes lock on me. “An earring.” A short grunt leaves his lips, “You risked your life for an earring?” “It’s sentimental.” I whisper, narrowing my eyes closer to the ring, recognizing the red ruby in the center of a rose, and I almost choke, drilling my eyes into his, “Sirius?!” Chapter 5 An Unexpected Reunion “Sirius?!” My heart is practically beating out of my chest. I can’t breathe, staring into his eyes, I know. I know it’s him. He turns to me a blank look on his face. The silence in the room creeps over me, and I slowly look around the room. Every mafia member is staring at me, with tension in their necks, awaiting the command of their king. I almost believe I’ve misspoken as I watch the King’s jaw click. “Elise.” “Oh my god!” I take a step back, looking him over. He looks just like he did in high school, but buffed up and toned, no longer lean and boyish. He’s a full man now. “When I told you to stay away from here, I meant it. Earring or not.” “These were…you cannot tell me what to do, Sirius.” He tilts his head to the side, looking me over. “You gave these to me…before you…” “I know, earring or not. Do not come back up here. Stay away from the mafia.” His voice is ice-cold and distant. He starts to walk away from me, and I almost leap out of my skin following him. “Do not speak to me like that, not after what you did. You abandoned me, and now you dismiss me.” “We both know what really happened back then, don’t act like you don’t know. Do not make me into some villain.” “No, but you are heartless. You leave without a word. You disappear, then you come back and ignore me as if we were nothing. As if you didn’t even—” My words get caught in my chest as if I am about to cry, but Sirius turns sharply towards me, heat rising in his eyes. “Once. I had a heart once, but now when I tell you to do something, you listen, Elise, and that’s final.” Sirius speaks lowly in my face, his voice feathers over me. “Now leave.” My eyes cannot help but flicker at his lips, but I immediately take a step back when he licks them. “No. Just because you say jump, d-does not mean I have to follow, Sirius.” I can hear the click of a gun, and Sirius doesn’t even move as he watches my actions. I raise my hands up and grit my teeth, “I guess you won’t even let me say thank you before murdering me, huh? ” “Lower your weapons, no one is allowed to point a gun at her ever.” I put my hands down slowly, my anger and grief swirling into panic as he turns to leave again. “If I mean so little to you, why are you still wearing your ring?” The branching ring with a single ruby was part of a promise ring set Sirius and I had brought when we were silly and in love. My ring is in my jewelry bag, hidden so Alston won’t find it and ask questions. “For sentimental reasons. I engraved it with something to remind me of the past.” He looks down at the ring longingly before snapping his eyes to my hands. “Where is your ring?” “I lost it years ago.” I don’t know why I lie or what I try to hide, but I know I can’t let him think anything can happen between us. He just nods sharply, not letting any emotions pass over his face. A throat clears in the background, and the tension in the room deflates slightly at the fakely bubbly voice of Mr. Thompson. He stands between Sirius and me a sharp look in his eyes. “Is everything okay here?” “Just a conversation,” Sirius responds evenly, his eyes not leaving mine. Mr.Thompson gives an empty chuckle, “Ah yes, I had to have a conversation with this employee multiple times. She is lazy. She constantly elicits complaints for her promiscuity and irresponsible nature.” He turns to me, hard eyes in his eyes, raising his voice, “Elise, I told you one more time.” “Mr.Thompson, this isn’t what it looks.” I begin, but he puts a hand in my face silencing me. “No, no, the time has come Elise you have embarrassed yourself in front of the King. You have constantly caused problems. You are the most terrible waitress I have ever had the displeasure of managing--” Sirius clocks his gun, placing the barrel against the back of Mr.Thompson’s head and he freezes. “No, no, continue your rant with a gun to your head.” “Sir, I was just firing insubordinate who was causing you trouble.” Mr.Thompson raises his hands up shakily. “Do you think of me as a damsel in need of saving, Thompson?” “Absolutely not sir.” “So why would I need you to come to my rescue?” “Sir, she has been a terrible employee, and I think--” “I do not care what you think. One more insult at her, and I am blowing your freaking brain across this room, understand?” Mr.Thompson nods slowly. “Good.” Sirius puts his gun away, and I can’t help but roll my eyes. “Is this what you do all day? Threaten people’s lives?” “No normally I am not protecting my ex-girlfriend.” Sirius tucks the gun in his waistband, shrugging at Elise. “Where even is he?” “What are you talking about, Sirius?” He walks closer to me a teasing smile on his lips. “Where is your boyfriend? Why is he not here to step in during every crisis, like I am?” Sirius stands a breath away from me, and from his tone, I can tell he is taunting me, that he wants a rise out of me. For a second, I want to smile at his boyish ways. His jealousy-fueled mockery reminds me of my Sirius. “My relationship with Alston has nothing to do with you!” I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest. His eyes dip to my chest, but his eyes narrow, looking at me just as quickly. “I thought you were dating my brother Lester?” “No, he is like a brother to me.” He chuckles. “It would destroy him to hear you say that.” “Why would you think I was with Lester?” “I never would have guessed Alston because he is such a good guy. Taking down major corporations, defending the little guy. I thought you liked your guys with a little edge to them.” Sirius shrugs, a carefree look in his eyes. “You used to be a good guy.” Sirius flashes his million-dollar smile that makes my knees weaken. “I was never a good guy, you just always saw the good in me.” Sirius’s voice is barely above a whisper, causing shivers down my spine. Alston was good. After Sirius went missing, Alston pursued me and when Lester was severely injured, Alston was the one who gathered most of the money for the medical expenses. His good deeds made me fall for him. He was always saving the day, and knowing that he was my personal superhero made me feel secure, supported, and loved. Most importantly, I never felt like he would abandon me. “I agreed to be his girlfriend because he makes me feel safe, Sirius, physically and emotionally.” Sirius’s eyes widen and the careless smile on his face fizzles out. I want to reach up and cup his face. I want to tell him that despite moving on he was my first, I have never been crazy, or foolish in love with anyone else. It’s only been him. “Thompson, leave.” Sirius doesn’t break eye contact with me as Mr.Thompson scurries to leave, but before he can make his grand escape, “I want your office cleared out by the morning.” “What?” Mr.Thompson slows, looking over his shoulder, shock across his face. “Elise will be the new owner, effective in the morning.” Simultaneously Mr.Thompson and I both look at Sirius as if he has lost his mind, screaming, “What? Why?” “Because Alston is not the only person who can make you feel safe, Elise.”	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12158&u	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/	20	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	redtgb.com	DCO		https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12158&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449044422_1575931366327027_957907443075673983_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wmb59eXH4eQQ7kNvgEVOoVk&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AK49r8WDpkOhLXzAc8xKidV&oh=00_AYDX0vxkJkpWBpV4diqFhZ10o5PLg_I2VVTm-S_xe60-IA&oe=670E582D	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,144,367	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2144365}'	No	2024-10-10 21:18	active	1606			CONTACT_US	https://fb.com/messenger_doc/	Nakatomi Gardens	https://www.facebook.com/100050441866342/	3,499	1969-12-31 18:00	Contact Us	fb.com	CAROUSEL		https://fb.com/messenger_doc/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462622377_1652105668679723_7678857755815755461_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=l30qt9gSgAwQ7kNvgEA0Os9&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ABKLkm317kW0uLvUAoSfltr&oh=00_AYBmH4fxiVA3KNngWFs46ccc95O97P0kMpnM2aApYCu3XQ&oe=670E535F	PERSON_PROFILE	Nakatomi Gardens	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,144,670	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-10-10 21:18	active	1606		Introducing the Mac & Jack Russell! 🌭✨ Get ready for a flavor explosion with our delicious creation that’s perfect for any foodie. This delightful dish features a warm Poppy Seed Bun 🍞, perfectly holding a juicy 9-inch Beef Frank. It’s generously topped with creamy Mac & Cheese 🧀 mixed with a hint of Green Chile for that extra kick. But we don’t stop there! We add crumbled bacon 🥓 for a savory crunch and finish it off with our zesty Chili Sauce 🌶️, made from a tantalizing mix of pork, beef, and beans. Every bite is a mouthwatering experience that combines rich flavors and textures. Perfect for those who crave something unique and indulgent. Treat yourself to the Mac & Jack Russell—your taste buds will thank you! 😋🎉. But wait, there’s more! 🌟 Dive into our mouthwatering Hot Dogs 🌭, homemade Crepes 🥞, irresistible Waffles 🧇, delicious Vegan Sausages 🌱, fresh Wraps, and Croissants! Each item is made fresh and ready to elevate your all-day breakfast experience. Grab your favorites today and transform your mornings into a culinary adventure! 🌈✨ Don’t miss out—satisfy your cravings with us! ❤️ #breakfast #morning #morningdelights #croissant #crepe #homemadecrepe #croissantlover #lunch #dinner #hotdog #waffle #moab #utah #moabstreetdogs #riseandshine #streetfood #streetdogs #foodtruck #donotphilosophizeeatahotdog #alldaybreakfast	VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	http://instagram.com/moabstreetdogs	Moab Dogs	https://www.facebook.com/61566114632900/	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram profile	instagram.com	IMAGE		http://instagram.com/moabstreetdogs	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462767166_1070490691746190_1493734016508206608_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=8ann4lKBdKAQ7kNvgHgJiPi&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ATmSkLUH6vvq_TwMMxGQlJX&oh=00_AYDlWzuDHXf0w5ogUSc3Q0sLlgfWjye1jdErT3HOLAbiQw&oe=670E42C3	PERSON_PROFILE	Moab Dogs	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,145,026	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-10-10 21:19	active	1606	Vettaiyan: The Hunter Review	What an interesting movie review Must check	NO_BUTTON	https://piclinks.cloud/share?u=22676620241010	Sabbir vai	https://www.facebook.com/61566452207303/	1	1969-12-31 18:00	No button	piclinks.cloud	IMAGE		https://piclinks.cloud/share?u=22676620241010	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462600120_1114553260297867_9106407617720704413_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=tpu5xYPlRpkQ7kNvgELDDfi&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A472z3Cwo2MiD9Mmb8vY015&oh=00_AYC5LTFHtHJ1vrThjaRKxj534Wo-6mXp2fEMIRS-EC2rSg&oe=670E4DAF	PERSON_PROFILE	Sabbir vai	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,142,158	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2143261}'	Yes	2024-10-10 21:18	active	1606	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However… "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. … Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. … At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but…" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/	20	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449437764_2559123607604310_3298283948021123177_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=vOz8fVxUPAUQ7kNvgFF5VX7&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AT0pW33tANLX-7lokXk0aaj&oh=00_AYA7KTht8F27XQ3FRZ4x59oFZYz0Zcuh25Vc4SY1ZSd_Xg&oe=670E365F	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,143,292	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2143286}'	Yes	2024-10-10 21:18	active	1606	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	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/	3,715	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	wwwedb.com	DCO		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-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462472533_518318660835573_1935883985083146426_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dgpldqDSzf8Q7kNvgElQf7c&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AK49r8WDpkOhLXzAc8xKidV&oh=00_AYApWBQDkTnC_tQCwA4ogCl1tJSbzCRuHLvPXRbxB2Q82g&oe=670E47B8	PERSON_PROFILE	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,144,424	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-10-10 21:18	active	1606	The Brattle Celebrates Roger Corman	The Brattle celebrates the late Roger Corman this October with a two week tribute featuring a smorgasbord of films directed/produced/distributed by the legendary King of Cult, October 11–24!	LEARN_MORE	http://brattlefilm.org/film-series/roger-corman/?u	Brattle Theatre	https://www.facebook.com/brattletheatre/	23,405	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	brattlefilm.org	DCO	Roger Corman (1926–2024) was known for his highly successful low-budget exploitation films and for launching the career of several prominent directors, including Francis Ford Coppola, Peter Bogdanovich, and Jonathan Demme. Join us Oct 11–24 for Roger Corman: King of Cult, celebrating the Hollywood legend.	http://brattlefilm.org/film-series/roger-corman/?utm_source={{site_source_name}}&utm_medium={{placement}}&utm_campaign=524_rogercorman&utm_content=promo_gas	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462677707_9395362050522301_8981739231603646116_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=x-Id9_E-2PAQ7kNvgG_T2P1&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AIK0P7Wz5NQEvXP-suRS9ma&oh=00_AYDWkw2ZNB0js9IiVdniuu6mp8_w7vHJ7L79wilkUjW4yg&oe=670E33B1	PERSON_PROFILE	Brattle Theatre	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,144,583	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-10-10 21:18	active	1606	TEE HIGGINS LOVELAND, OH \| FlexWork Sports 2025	Excited to announce Tee Higgins will be back to host his youth football camp this Spring again! The camp is for boys and girls ages 6-16 and will take place on Saturday, April 12th at Loveland High School in Loveland, OH. Signup before spots fill up!	LEARN_MORE	https://www.flexworksports.com/camps-1/tee-higgins	FlexWork Sports Management	https://www.facebook.com/FlexWorkSportsManagement/	34,117	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	flexworksports.com	IMAGE	Over the course of the day, Phoenix star Guard, Eric Gordon and our coaches will provide your child with valuable basketball knowledge and hands-on instruction in a fun, high-energy, positive environment. Camp activities will include lectures, fundamental skill stations, contests, and awards. All ca...	https://www.flexworksports.com/camps-1/tee-higgins-loveland%2C-oh	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462630094_1206395183930548_1112048339388959480_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=DW9PEpm1-_0Q7kNvgEwgkfv&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A_F8-UdGR8T15LlRsOwvvvm&oh=00_AYCaKUaP5qzIugvWXM77l-dJv_Q5GIB5OhGygUSPzB311Q&oe=670E35BE	PERSON_PROFILE	FlexWork Sports Management	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,142,120	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2142248}'	No	2024-10-10 21:18	active	1606	😍Read the next chapters👉	At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wife’s veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Don’t you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.” “Oh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...	LEARN_MORE	https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&u	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	202	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	shgjfh.com	DCO		https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462070849_1186717122429002_4317317778552029382_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=UCmzJYv19rgQ7kNvgFyIphe&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AT0pW33tANLX-7lokXk0aaj&oh=00_AYAfX2_ZmNiIhULXHNL5I-fJJDPf0EebSv2dN1PgwWmUZQ&oe=670E675A	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,143,634	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2143245}'	Yes	2024-10-10 21:18	active	1606	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	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/	3,715	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	wwwedb.com	DCO		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}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/459033497_8311865298859890_1525270127480505394_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=fcMABj2DqOUQ7kNvgGj7Ulp&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AUtrgJDiuPoQkf23FNPJkXr&oh=00_AYDoZF83eI70U9iZ7OeISOdLqXpEEvP82ru4QR__H0pPmA&oe=670E4CB8	PERSON_PROFILE	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,142,171	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2143261}'	No	2024-10-10 21:18	active	1606	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However… "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. … Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. … At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but…" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/	20	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449437764_2559123607604310_3298283948021123177_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=vOz8fVxUPAUQ7kNvgFF5VX7&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AT0pW33tANLX-7lokXk0aaj&oh=00_AYA7KTht8F27XQ3FRZ4x59oFZYz0Zcuh25Vc4SY1ZSd_Xg&oe=670E365F	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,145,250	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2145249}'	No	2024-10-10 21:19	active	1606			VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	http://instagram.com/socialsparkleirl	Social Sparkle IRL	https://www.facebook.com/61566098411983/	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram Profile	instagram.com	CAROUSEL		http://instagram.com/socialsparkleirl	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462747731_8599974553415694_572495642920376634_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=6ky0kz_m4QUQ7kNvgF4dcD8&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AM7WAkRlLo4-wD-ZzwC6V4d&oh=00_AYD8WZYBfMP8f1k5clfoxRvitbWNAYfcH_A7ZR6olDXsPQ&oe=670E61F7	PERSON_PROFILE	Social Sparkle IRL	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,142,808	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2143256}'	No	2024-10-10 21:18	active	1606	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	Debra gasped and opened her eyes. Everything in front of her was strikingly familiar. This place was Juan and her home. They had been married for a month, but Juan had rarely visited her. She remembered that Juan was attending a land auction, and due to the occasion, he had to bring her along. But this was all five years ago. 'How could it be? ' she thought, deeply confused, 'Am I reborn?' " Mr. Nichols has never stayed overnight before. You should seize this opportunity." a maid’s voice brought Debra back to reality. She picked out a white gown, hesitating. "How about this one, Madam?" Looking at it, Debra gave a self-deprecating smile. It was well known that Juan favored Shelia. Shelia liked white dresses. In the past, she often dressed like Shelia to please Juan. For this auction, Juan didn't inform her of the change in companion and brought Shelia instead, making her look ridiculous in a white dress similar to Shelia's. The thought of the past made her laugh. "No, I'll wear that one," she said, picking up a red dress. Debra never liked plain clothes. Shelia was just a poor college student. Debra felt that she must have lost her mind to dress like that for a man. "But Mr. Nichols likes white dresses," the maid said hesitantly. Debra simply ignored her hints. "I'll wear this one," she said. "Throw away all those white dresses. I don't like them." The maid sighed and complied. Debra looked at herself in the mirror, still vibrant and beautiful. But in a few years, she would be worn down by Juan's torment. Before that happened, she would end it all. In the evening, Debra appeared in a burgundy dress that accentuated her curves. Her delicate makeup, curls, and a mole under her eye made her mesmerizing. She looked like a painting, untouchable. Not far away, a man in a white shirt and black leather combat boots saw her. Marion Houston asked, "Who is she?" "You don't know her? She's Debra, the daughter of the Frazier family and Juan's wife," said his friend, Randy Osborne. "I just saw Juan entering with another woman. Maybe we'll witness a showdown between the mistress and the wife. It will be fun."	LEARN_MORE	https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	202	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	thebvhwysgng.com	DCO		https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13914&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/459135153_832140905375376_807093524481295487_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=MmM44QOU6LIQ7kNvgGX6XuL&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ATVFfr2N-zo0cxzPn0gsCFO&oh=00_AYB08bq4c4Vos4us4QbjfgnV2QWhAkbtafxTNXpqBkSWjw&oe=670E404C	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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