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No | 2025-03-03 09:54 | active | 2763 | 0 | Read next chapter | To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi**ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his b*dmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my b*d, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red m*rk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my b*d too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You b**ch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame gr*aning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e | Popular romance stories | https://www.facebook.com/100083149047490/ | 17,999 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0130-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=673595984708315&exdata=E7C53BDECE0DE88B0789C9A7731C096C6907ABA3A8C60CDE | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475443542_634011972436455_1755009631137609431_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ptcOhTkuW_wQ7kNvgHFEjDv&_nc_oc=AdjpJxxa0zlo0I_cePxVlgjlhH4BPjpFRDbY4HBQEkeLZYLkMx7i7ByuBvOy58sA-J0JOtccVeXUXMCVZy--nMT6&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ab9VrFG88kzrNUwSmpnRSnt&oh=00_AYCQAK2J6W7scSCSBb8pi3uZxfjSd0K8MbfHq2aOnJ6ZAg&oe=67CBAB89 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Popular romance stories | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Read next chapter | Ever since my father passed away, Richard had taken on a brotherly role in my life, but he often disapproved of my closeness with other guys. Every time I found a boyfriend, Richard scared them off. I complained to my friend, "My brother is stricter than my mom!" Sandra handed me a bag of chips and thought for a moment. "Could it be that Richard likes you? You guys aren't even related by blood." Since then, I deliberately distanced myself from him, but during the New Year, he suddenly brought home a girl. "Tricia, call her sister-in-law." ===== Richard was only a year older than me, but he had always used his role as an older brother to control me. When I was younger, he'd scold me for skipping classes. As I grew older and started dating, he still interfered. One time, my friend joked, "Maybe Richard likes you? You guys aren't even related by blood." Since then, I had tried to keep my distance. But during the holidays, he suddenly brought a girl home. "Tricia, this is my girlfriend. Say 'Hi'." That night, I locked myself in my room and cried uncontrollably. He pulled me out from under the covers and gently wiped away my tears. "You could find a boyfriend to annoy me, but I couldn't do the same to you?" Lately, luck hadn't been on my side. Every time I found a boyfriend, Richard scared them off. I complained to my friend, "My brother is stricter than my mom!" Sandra handed me a bag of chips and thought for a moment. "Could it be that Richard likes you? You guys aren't even related by blood." It was true. My dad and his dad had been old friends, and ever since my dad passed away, his family had been taking care of us. My mother had always told me to treat Richard like a real brother. Even though we weren't related by blood, he was more responsible than any real brother. Back in school, he would watch me do my homework every day and even lecture me if I skipped class. He was only a year older than me, but he had always acted like an adult. Whenever I did something wrong, he'd scold me faster than my mom. "Tricia, that's not polite. Don't do that." "Tricia, don't talk badly about people behind their backs." The thought that he might like me sent chills down my spine. "Don't say that! You're going to give me nightmares!" After leaving Sandra's house, her words kept echoing in my head, as if they had put a spell on me. That night, I dreamed that Richard cornered me at the stairwell, gripping my chin and ki*sing me forcefully. "Who said you could get a boyfriend?" I woke up in a cold sweat, terrified, and immediately blocked his number. Thankfully, I was about to start my internship and wouldn't be home much longer. When I opened the door the next morning, Richard just happened to be walking by. Instinctively, I stepped back and slammed the door shut. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his cold, piercing stare. It felt like a blade cutting right through me. Later that evening, we went to his apartment for dinner. In front of everyone, he asked why I had blocked his number. I stammered, unable to come up with a reason, and had no choice but to unblock him. "I must've clicked the wrong button..." Trying to appease him, I offered him a piece of chicken with a flattering smile. "Richard, you look so thin! You should eat more meat." But something I said must've annoyed him because he even moved his plate farther away. "No need." I had found my internship on my own, even though Richard strongly opposed it and insisted I join his company. But this time, I stood my ground and firmly refused. I was too afraid that if we spent too much time together, something would happen. The apartment we were living in had been rented by Richard, thinking I'd work at his company and we'd commute together. But after starting my job, I found a new place to avoid seeing him as much as possible. My mother would text me every day, asking what I wanted to eat. She'd have the servant cook it and then deliver it to me. I'd give her a whole list of dishes, but Richard was always the one who showed up at my door. I almost slammed it shut again. But when I saw the angry look in his eyes, I stopped myself. I forced a smile and took the food container from him. "Richard, I've missed you." He ignored me, walking around the apartment to inspect the place. "Tricia, I send you so much money every month, and this is where you live? Where's all the money gone?" I hadn't touched a cent of the money he gave me. I didn't want to owe him or his family too much. But I didn't dare tell him that. He'd just accuse me of treating him like a stranger. Honestly, my mother gave me plenty of money every month too, but I had a habit of splurging on my favorite celebrities, so I had to cut costs elsewhere. "I'm investing. High returns, you know." Being a fan was an investment, especially for a toptier star like Lanny--his merch was incredibly popular. Once I got him out of my apartment, I finally breathed a sigh of relief. I swore I'd never overindulge again! Starting my new job, I often joined my colleagues for meals to fit in better. Eventually, I ran out of money and had to call my mother for help. She transferred $50, 000 to me but gave me a strict warning. "If you waste this money on a man again, I'm cutting you off." Chapter 2 Richard's Furious Because I Spent Money On Another Guy Her voice was so loud that my colleagues started giving me strange looks. I was exasperated. I had explained to her more than once that being a fan just meant liking a celebrity and spending some money on their endorsements. But my mom never listened and kept scolding me. "Spending money on men is pointless! You should be the one letting them spend money on you, got it?" Just as I was about to argue with her again, I heard a familiar voice on the other end of the phone. "Mrs. Reynolds, has Tricia gotten a boyfriend?" Why was Richard at my home? Startled, I immediately hung up the phone. The restaurant we picked was pretty popular, and we had to wait over an hour for a table. While we were waiting, a crowd suddenly started gathering. I glanced over and saw Lanny trying to make his way through the mob. Well, no wonder the place was packed--it's a hotspot for celebrities, and fans love to flock to places like this. Lanny saw me and headed my way, with a swarm of fans trailing behind him. It was a little intimidating. Wearing sunglasses, he looked cool, but in reality, he was a total goofball. "Tricia, you're here at my restaurant? Aren't you worried Richard will get angry?" Back in high school, Lanny and I were in the same class. He was great at math, and Sandra and I once went to his house to do homework. He casually put his arm around my shoulder, like we were just buddies, and neither of us thought much of it. But when Richard found out, he beat Lanny up. Ever since then, the two couldn't stand each other. I sighed helplessly. "If I'd known this was your restaurant, I wouldn't have come." I was a fan of Lanny--I went to his concerts and bought his endorsements, but I rarely paid attention to his personal life. One time, he recognized me from the stage and said he'd just give me a ticket next time, but I turned him down. Being a fan meant spending my own money; otherwise, it was not called being a fan, it was just being friends. Lanny handed me a membership card, saying I could eat at his restaurant for free from now on. I took it, thinking that if my mom ever really cut off my funds, at least I'd have a place to get a free meal. After dinner, I got home and saw Richard standing outside my door. I instinctively tried to retreat, but he was quick and called out to me. "Tricia, come here." For some reason, I always felt guilty around Richard. All I ever wanted to do was run away. "Richard, why are you here? Have you eaten yet?" He sneered, and despite it being hot, I felt a chill down my spine. "If I didn't show up, how would I know you're out here spending time with some guy?" I opened the door and explained that it was all just a misunderstanding. But he wasn't having it. He kept pressing, demanding to know who the guy was. I refused to tell him, thinking if he found out I'd spent money on Lanny, he'd beat him heavily. Then he gave me an ultimatum. "A kept man can't make you happy. Break up with him immediately." As I stood up, the card Lanny gave me fell to the floor. I quickly bent down to pick it up, but Richard was faster. He stared at me, eyes full of rage. "You don't even have money for yourself, and you're out here paying for his meals?" I was speechless as he stormed out of the apartment. Two hours later, Laurence, Richard's assistant, called me, practically in tears. "Tricia, what did you do to upset Mr. Stewart this time? I had just finished getting ready for bed when he called me back to the office to revise the proposal. I can't be on call 24/7!" I often visited Richard at his office, so I had gotten close with his secretaries and assistants. Since starting my internship, I knew all too well the pain of being forced to work overtime. Besides, they always gave me useful information--I couldn't just leave them hanging. I called Richard, and he picked up on the third ring, clearly still furious. I was trying to think of a way to coax him without making it obvious, but he was impatient. "Say something." My mind raced. Flattery never failed. "Richard, I heard you're still working overtime? You work so hard! With you in charge, the company is sure to thrive!" He didn't seem impressed. "If I didn't work my butt off, where would you get the money to spoil some guy?" Seeing that talking wouldn't help, I bought some snacks and headed to his office. When I arrived, the lights were still on, even though it was already ten o'clock. The tension in the air was palpable. Before I even reached the conference room, I could already hear Richard's angry voice inside. Chapter 3 I Thought Richard Liked Me, But He Brought Home A Girlfriend "Did I hire you to sit around gossiping all day?" "What kind of proposal is this? Is this your first day on the job? Take it back and redo it." I knocked on the door but didn't wait for a reply before entering. Everyone inside looked at me as if I were their savior, and I could see the gratitude in their eyes. Richard was caught off guard for a moment--he hadn't expected me to show up. I cleared my throat, walked up to him, and set the food down. "Richard, you should eat something. Mrs. Stewart said you haven't had dinner." He didn't move at first, so I grabbed his arm and guided him toward his office. As I closed the door behind us, I gave the others an "OK" signal. Richard's expression softened a bit, but he still looked like he wasn't in the mood to talk. I brought him a bowl of noodles, and he didn't even leave a single bite of meat. He must've been starving. "Richard, you need to take care of yourself. Work will never end. If you keep this up, your parents will be worried sick." He looked into my eyes, and I saw a mix of emotions--too many for me to make sense of. "And what about you?" I started tidying up the takeout container, avoiding his gaze. "Of course, I'm worried too. Why else would I come looking for you in the middle of the night?" My attempt to coax him worked. He picked up his jacket, slung it over his arm, and got ready to leave. "I'll take you home. It's not safe for you to walk alone at night." In the car, I avoided his eyes, pretending to look out the window at the passing scenery. For several days, I didn't contact Richard. My mom thought we were fighting and kept urging me not to be stubborn. "Don't be so willful. Richard is busy with work, and he still makes time to take care of you." I didn't know how to explain it to her, so I just stayed silent. As work got busier, I pushed the matter to the back of my mind. We spoke occasionally, but only about work-related things. Eventually, he became distant with me. I sighed with relief, but at the same time, I felt an odd emptiness inside. Time flew by, and before I knew it, Christmas was approaching. The company gave us a holiday starting three days before Christmas. Coincidentally, Lanny was holding a concert in Alodon, so I flew over to catch it and even took a photo with him afterward. Lanny said we hadn't taken a picture together in years and asked me to send him one. I did, and moments later, I saw him post it on Facebook. "Great concert! Thanks to all the friends who came from far and wide." When I returned to Pheldence, it was Christmas Eve. For some reason, I couldn't shake this feeling of unease. Every year, our families took turns hosting the family dinner, and this year it was at Richard's house. As soon as I walked in, I heard laughter coming from the living room. I headed toward the sound and saw a gentle, elegant girl sitting on the couch. She had long hair, was dressed in a luxury coat, and carried a limited-edition handbag. Clearly, she was the same type of person as Richard. The most important thing was that she was sitting next to him, with her hand linked through his arm. Richard didn't even look at me. His attention was completely on her. I felt an inexplicable surge of frustration and placed my things on the coffee table a bit too forcefully. My mom shot me a sharp look. "Tricia, can you show some manners? You just walked in, and you're already giving attitude." Richard smiled--barely, but I noticed it. Sitting across from them, their closeness felt glaringly obvious. "So, what should I call you?" I asked the girl. For the first time since I arrived, Richard actually looked at me. "Tricia, this is my girlfriend. Say 'Hi'." I didn't know what to say. Suddenly, I understood where that feeling of unease had been coming from. Richard was in a relationship, and I was the one who felt the most hurt. I quickly greeted her, but despite the feast in front of me, everything tasted bland and unappetizing. Once I got home, I rushed to my room, buried myself under the covers, and let the tears flow freely. I didn't know how much time had passed when I suddenly heard the door creak open. I hastily wiped away my tears, pretending to be asleep. Someone walked slowly to my bedside. I could feel his gaze on me as he crouched down. He pulled at my blanket, and though I clung to it, I couldn't match his strength. I opened my eyes to see Richard standing by my bed with a faint smile. "Tricia, why are you crying just because I'm in a relationship?" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/61215322-fb_contact-e | Heat Novel A | https://www.facebook.com/100089743291944/ | 609 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | IMAGE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/61215322-fb_contact-enad50_2-250126-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=40775B4BFB7D9725ADE5D8D45C5640C1FE6B43447BAD355C | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474974867_543416772070833_3194244336465786891_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=JpEvT_GAAhAQ7kNvgEh85Yx&_nc_oc=AdiUUWutZfRp5DkPIwQ-XMdCcCHuKOnbTaIud8IaBIUh6DVuheWLs5Uj_xN9ajLVAvmuHxbx0MQNK96GMOnN2nEQ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AfuXJ4MmQlOJIaJhni7DvSh&oh=00_AYBXinIU4pTwIYgmF3PhOzgXgINYvrhPvJTUN2JsGAucpw&oe=67CBBA78 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Heat Novel A | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-03-03 09:54 | active | 2763 | 0 | Read next chapter | On her wedding day, her stepsister set her up, framing her with accusations of promiscuity, academic fraud, and attempted murder. She was personally brought to court by her fiancé and imprisoned for three years, enduring inhuman torment! ===== On the day Khloe Evans was put on trial by her fiance, it was raining heavily. "Khloe Evans, you are suspected of bribing competition judges, academic fraud, and attempted homicide. Do you plead guilty or not?" Inside the silent and solemn courtroom, the judge's gavel echoed, signaling the start of a tense moment. Khloe's bl**dshot eyes were filled with anger and desperation, staring at Eric Watson, her fiance. She couldn't help but sneer. They had spent four years from falling in love to getting married; she had always believed that he loved her deeply and that their married life would be blissful. But on their wedding day, he personally put her on trial because of her stepsister's words. The Watson family was one of the wealthiest and most influential families in the country. No one would dare to offend them for a nobody like her. Khloe said word by word, "I have nothing to say." All along, she thought Eric was the love of her life. But it turned out he had been having an a**air with her stepsister, Sloane Evans. What was more, he had stolen her academic achievements. And now, he falsely accused her of being a m*rderer. He was ruthless. What else could she say? The judge banged his gavel again and gave his verdict. "The court hereby sentences the defendant, Khloe Evans, to eight years in prison and a fine of three hundred thousand dollars." The trial concluded, and the prison guards escorted Khloe. As she walked out of the courtroom, Khloe turned and looked back at Eric, sitting in the plaintiff's seat, her eyes burning with deep hatred and fury. ...... Three years had passed. "Khloe Evans, someone has bailed you out. You're free to go." Upon hearing that, Khloe raised her head, her pale face filled with shock. After suffering from endless torture for three years, she had thought that she was bound to stay there for the full sentence. She didn't expect that she would be released one day. An hour after she was released from prison, Khloe was taken to a hospital. She entered a ward, and her heart clenched when she saw her mother through the ICU door, lying motionless in the hospital bed. With a pale face and various apparatus connected to her body, she looked lifeless. "Mom..." Khloe got all worked up, her voice trembling with emotion. She wanted to open the door and go in. "Stop it! This ward is specially secured. No one is allowed to enter without my permission." A female voice suddenly rang out behind her. Khloe turned around and was surprised to see the person who spoke. "Sloane? My mom severed ties with the Evans family long ago. Why are you still doing this to her?" As she spoke, she glared at Sloane with eyes full of hatred. Sloane looked at Khloe, a flicker of jealousy and disdain flashing across her eyes. Then, she sneered, "Khloe, looks like you are mistaken. I'm saving her. Without me, your mother would have died long ago. Perhaps, by the time you come out of prison, you will only see her tomb." Khloe took a deep breath to calm herself down. "Sloane, stop being so hypocritical. You are saving my mother? Only a fool will believe that. What are you really up to? You're using her to manipulate me, right?" "Khloe, you're as clever as ever. No wonder they called you the rising star of academia. But it's a pity that you are now a convict for attempted murder. And your fate is in my hands," Sloane taunted. "So, today, all you need to do is spend a night with Karl Russell. Then, I'll arrange for your release and your mother's treatment." "Karl Russell? That old man is already in his sixties. Are you out of your mind?" Khloe's eyes widened in disbelief. "So what? Should I care? It's you who are going to sleep with him, not me. As long as you spend one night with him, our family can secure the Russell family's arms deal. It's a very lucrative business. You should feel honored that you are selling out your body to make so much money for us. But if you refuse..." Sloane pointed to the ICU. "I'll have them remove your mom's life support, and she'll die right in front of you. I'll give you five seconds to decide. Five, four, three..." "Fine! I'll go," Khloe agreed in despair. This time, she could no longer suppress the tears she had been holding back. She was left with no choice. For the sake of her mother, she had to do it. After freshening up, Khloe was put into a car. Tonight, she was destined to sleep with a sixty-something disgusting man. And she was still a v**gin. Chapter 2 Henrik Watson That night, the car glided through the deserted streets, headlights cutting into the night's inky darkness. Bang! A g*nshot shattered the silence, deafening and ominously close. Glass sprayed across the seats as the car window exploded, fragments glittering in the dim streetlights. All hell broke loose. Terrified creams echoed in the street as the few remaining shops hurried to lower their shutters. The driver, white-faced and trembling, veered in a panic. The car skidded, tires screeching before slamming into the curb. He slumped forward, unconscious. Beside him, Khloe blinked, disoriented from the impact. Pressing a hand to her throbbing head, she tried to make sense of what had happened. Through the cracked window, she glimpsed flickering orange flames a short distance away. "Oh, no!" She'd stumbled straight into the deadly crossfires of a g*nfight. It was likely a turf war turned ugly by two warring gangs. Steadying herself, Khloe pushed open the door and crouched low, inching towards the roadside. But before she could move further, a figure emerged from the darkness. Tall and powerfully built, he was moving fast. Even though a mask obscured most of his features, she could still see his intense eyes and the proud outline of his nose. A dark stain spread across his side, seeping through his clothes--bl**d. He stumbled towards her, breathing heavily, and collapsed at her feet. Just then, another group of burly men burst from the shadows, each armed to the teeth. Their faces were etched with vicious determination, each bearing a t**too on the hand. "Perfect! He's down. Now, finish him off!" The leader, bald and snarling, held up his g*n and pointed it towards the fallen man. Then, his gaze fell on Khloe. She was dressed to the nines, as she was meant to be a gift for a man tonight. A tight red dress hugged her perfect figure, accentuating her curves and complimenting her porcelain skin. Her glossy hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a delicate, doll-like face with wide, innocent eyes. In a word, she looked like a vision from a dream--or a man's t**ptation made flesh. The bald man's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with le**erous intent. He had never seen such a beautiful woman before, and he wasn't about to let an opportunity like this slide. "While you're finishing him off, I'll help myself to this beauty." He lunged, shoving Khloe back against the shattered window, pressing his weight against her. "No, please!" she pleaded, her voice trembling as she tried to pull away. "Please don't hurt me." "Why would I hurt a beauty like you?" he taunted, his fingers gripping her shoulder tightly as he leaned closer, his hot breath on her skin. His men jeered behind him, urging him on, enjoying the show. But Khloe's hand moved, almost imperceptibly, reaching into her purse. In one swift, desperate motion, her fingers closed around a pen, and she drove it up into his neck with a fierce thrust. The bald man's eyes widened in shock as bl**d spurted from the wound, his grip loosening. Gone was the look of a damsel in distress; her eyes, which were so full of fear just a second earlier, now glinted with a cold light. What was once a delicate, angelic beauty had transformed into a bl**d-stained rose, dark and dangerous. "B**ch, you're asking for it!" The henchmen froze for a split second, then fury overcame them, and they charged at Khloe with murderous intent. Her voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. "Don't move, or I'll pull the pen out! He'll bleed out on the spot!" The men abruptly stopped in their tracks. No one dared to move a muscle. At this moment, the man who'd been lying motionless suddenly sprang to life, g*n in hand, and unleashed a hail of b*llets on the stunned th*gs. He moved with such agility that it was clear his injury had only been a ruse. Even the bald man Khloe held hostage collapsed in a bl**dy heap, a bullet having shattered his skull in an instant. Khloe spun her head just in time, avoiding the bl**d splatter. But her clothes and legs weren't so lucky; they were stained with bl**d, sticky and warm. "Ugh!" The sickly, metallic scent hit her, and her stomach churned. She couldn't stop herself from retching, knees buckling as she collapsed sideways. But before she hit the ground, an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her upright. The man's grip was firm, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Feisty little thing, weren't you so badass just a second ago? What happened?" Khloe recoiled, shoving him away, her face twisting in defiance. "Let go of me!" Before she could get another word out, black-clad men suddenly emerged from the shadows, their faces hard, eyes cold. Even the surrounding rooftops showed silhouettes of these men, controlling all sniper points. Each man moved with such deadly precision, and Khloe could tell at a glance that they were all experienced killers. They brandished machine guns and rocket launchers with practiced ease, as though these were everyday items. In a word, they looked like an elite strike force--battle-hardened, lethal. Unexpectedly, one by one, they all started dropping to their knees, as though bowing before a king. Thousands of them bowed in unison. "Awaiting your orders, Mr. Watson," the leader announced reverently. Khloe's breath hitched. "Are you Henrik Watson?" Chapter 3 The Kiss Henrik accepted a handkerchief from his trusted aide, Rhett Foster, wiping the bl**d from his hands with deliberate, almost regal precision. He then removed his mask slowly, revealing a face that could seize anyone's breath. His eyes were dark, magnetic pools, deep enough to pull anyone in. And above his perfectly-shaped lips was a prominent, sculpted nose. His chiseled features conveyed both power and beauty, almost too flawless to belong to any ordinary man. It was the kind of face that could eclipse even the brightest stars in the showbiz. But more than his appearance, it was his aura--commanding, indomitable--that sent shivers down spines. This was a man who held dominion over countless lives. Henrik smiled, a flash of danger glinting in his eyes. "So what if I am?" Khloe's eyes went as wide as saucers. Henrik Watson--that name carried the weight of legend. Henrik had once been a branch member of the Watson family before vanishing into obscurity for ten long years. When he resurfaced, he singlehandedly seized control of the nation's underworld, rendering him a king without rival. In fact, he was so powerful that even the president treaded carefully around him. Khloe's ex-fiance, Eric, was a member of the Watson family, which had ascended from obscurity to supremacy solely thanks to Henrik. By blood, Eric was Henrik's nephew. So, if her marriage to Eric pushed through, Henrik would be her husband's uncle. Khloe's stepsister, Sloane, had maneuvered her into offering herself to Karl Russell. Though Karl held sway in the city, he was nothing against Henrik's underworld might. It was like comparing a lion to a mouse. As the thought struck her, hope flickered within Khloe. If she could gain Henrik's support, she might escape her forced sacrifice, and her mother could be saved. Steadying her breath, she asked tentatively, "Since I just helped you, could I ask you a favor?" Henrik's gaze sharpened, eyes gleaming with intrigue. It was the first time a woman had faced him with such poise, especially after witnessing him kill so many people. Interest piqued, Henrik strode towards Khloe with an almost lazy confidence, each step measured and unhurried. His sculpted fingers pinched her chin, lifting it so she was looking right at him. He held her gaze as he studied her with a trace of amusement in his eyes. His voice, low and rich, sent a chill through the air. "Do you have any idea who you're talking to? Aren't you afraid I'll kill you?" A shiver raced through Khloe's heart. His presence was overwhelming, like a storm cloud closing in, suffocating in its intensity. He was dangerous--merely speaking to him was like playing with fire. But she had nowhere else to turn; Henrik was her only chance. "I have a Ph.D. in chemistry and medicine, along with patents--highly profitable ones. If you help me, I can make you money," she said, voice steady but with a glint of desperation. Henrik shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Money?" he murmured, his fingers brushing her cheek. "Do I look like I lack money?" The scent of bl**d clung faintly to his skin, chilling her even as he remained outwardly gentle. Khloe's guard went up instinctively, her body tensing beneath his touch. "What do you want?" she ventured cautiously. "If it's within my power, I'm willing to exchange anything." A spark flickered in Henrik's dark eyes, something enigmatic and unreadable. He let his gaze drift over her as if considering her offer. "Anything, you say?" All of a sudden, he let out a chilling laugh. "Then I want this." In one swift motion, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. And there, before all his men, he kissed her. Chapter 4 Decisive Action The kiss came unexpectedly. Khloe was caught off guard, unable to respond in time. Henrik's subordinates stood frozen, their eyes wide with disbelief. They had all worked for him for years, and never once had they seen him so close with a woman. Henrik had always been the type to keep his distance from women. In the past, women who approached him either ended up as fish food or were sent to toil in the mines at his orders. What kind of spell had this woman cast? How was it that she managed to make Henrik abandon all his usual rules, and all on their very first meeting? As the crowd remained stunned and puzzled, Khloe's thoughts swirled in chaos, making it impossible to think straight. Henrik's kiss was overwhelming, like a storm crashing down on her, leaving her breathless and dizzy. She found herself trapped in his arms, held so tightly it felt as though she were a flower caught in a violent storm. Yet she was anything but fragile. Once the shock wore off, a surge of anger rose within her. For years, she had endured humiliation, her fall from grace plunging her into the darkest depths. But giving up was never an option; she had always been plotting her revenge. It was only natural that she refused to yield. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss with equal ferocity. After all, what harm could a kiss do? And the man was both devastatingly handsome and of high standing. She would not suffer any losses. She skillfully fought back with her t**gue, refusing to let him dominate her entirely. Instead of pulling back, she met his intensity head-on, taking the lead. What began as a one-sided kiss quickly transformed into a fierce exchange, each of them vying for control, pushing and pulling in a heated battle for dominance. The kiss was fierce and all-consuming, each second more passionate than the last, until they were both gasping for air. When they finally pulled away, their lips were swollen and stained with bl**d, a testament to the intensity of the moment. Henrik let go of Khloe, his hand brushing against the corner of his mouth where her teeth had left their mark. His gaze was intense, locking onto her with a depth that seemed to pierce right through her. Khloe held his stare steadily, not flinching or showing even the slightest sign of discomfort. Her fearless attitude earned her the respect of those watching. It was clear now why Henrik was drawn to her. She was bold, with a courage that couldn't be ignored. She had the audacity to bite Henrik's lips, unafraid of the consequences. Henrik continued to gaze at Khloe, a growing satisfaction building within him. The sting on his lips reminded him sharply of what had just happened. The woman standing before him, with a face as stunning as an angel's, was no delicate flower. She was a thorny rose, and anyone foolish enough to underestimate her would undoubtedly pay the price. But that was exactly what made her so captivating--it was the danger beneath the beauty that drew him in. "Mr. Watson, is everything to your liking?" Khloe asked, breaking the stillness. "Yes, let's go," Henrik replied with a smile. "Now, let's take care of your little issue." ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &9& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65284322-fb_contact-e | Romance Novel | https://www.facebook.com/100083771162998/ | 48,200 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65284322-fb_contact-enp98_2-1210-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=DD7CCA935D14747FB00CE5D79C0269792F97B035C4861F08 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475182595_1680974372822650_5468765500713567234_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=uELyWxD16zAQ7kNvgHUMG03&_nc_oc=AdhD6ZQhzkEqjKnPEok8d_2YSnG57ACF-GZhrYgILDbLu4Iqw3Vg87vUx4q_b11mD6bYrp6W4asr9efbbFMnLnwX&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AX1GQJvoMOGt5qNJCOLWxSB&oh=00_AYBMrH78P47jt6ab6gQOGztL_enCJXUeeJqE2FLU82EvIQ&oe=67CBA2E2 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Romance Novel | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔥NEW POPULAR READ🔥 | “You really broke up with your boyfriend on Valentine's Day, Why? I mean, was he seeing another woman?” “Technically, I was the other woman.” I tilted back the shot of tequila down my throat, the liquid causing a shiver through me like lightning. “What?!” Bella’s outburst drew the attention of a few onlookers at the bar, which is exactly what I didn't want. I sigh, hoping that anybody who overhears is too drunk to remember what I just said. I leaned my elbows on the bar and dropped my chin in my hands. Not even the throbbing dance music could distract my brain from thinking what an idiot I was. That Valentine's Day was great. A romantic dinner, followed by an excellent intimate time. I’d spent the whole of last night wrapped in Jackson’s arms. It was a night more precious to me than anything, especially since he was always so busy with work. It was nice. Perfect. Until he got in the shower and his phone rang. I sat up and stared at the caller ID, a bit confused by the name. ‘Boss Lady’. I figured I might as well pick up the phone for him, because I know how seriously Jackson took his job. He’d always have to cut dates short due to it, so whatever it is, it must be important. “Then I realized it was Jackson’s wife. He’s apparently in an ‘open marriage’” I told Bella, putting up air-quotations. “His wife even knew about me before I knew about her.” Of course, I’m just summarizing everything to Bella to spare my own dignity. The woman sounded so terribly lovesick when I answered the phone that day. Asking when he would be done with me so he could celebrate Valentine's Day ‘properly’. “She didn’t really seem all that phased when I answered the phone,” I add. “She even told me she was sorry he didn't tell me about her beforehand.” “What the heck!?” Bella remarks, and I feel a spark of validation run through me. If anyone has my back, it’s Bella. “At least she didn’t blow up at you or anything. He really never told you about her?” “Nope.” I say, popping the ‘p’. “He tried to get me to understand, apparently he never told me about his marriage because I’m too ‘serious’.” “Is he freaking serious? Oh my god.” Bella remarks, her voice high. I already feel tipsy, my body feeling warm and loose, so I don’t even mind her being loud about it. It feels vindicating to hear her stick up for me in such a vocal way. “And even after I chewed him out, he still wanted me to stay with him,” I mention, and Bella’s eyebrows shoot up. “Told me he still loved me, that we could work this out.” “Nonsense!” Bella spits. “Yeah. I threw his nonsense out of my apartment that night.” “Good freakin’ riddance. What a loser!” Bella huffs. “That’s awful, Aria, I know you really liked him.” Bella puts an arm on my shoulder, and I can’t help but wilt. I really liked Jackson. He was someone who I really could see myself marrying, after all of my previous situationships. I can’t help but lean into her touch, thankful I can rely on Bella at least. “Yeah. It's a nightmare...I was even thinking about asking him to move in, maybe get a dog and raise it together. I dunno.” “Ugh, screw that loser!” Bella spits, and I can’t help but smile at how fired up she is. “I can’t believe he lied about that!” “Yeah...” Even I could hear the wistfulness in my voice, and Bella easily picked up on where my negative thoughts were headed. “Oh no, you’re not going to wallow over a slimeball like Jackson.” Bella scoffs. “You are your own woman, Aria! You don’t need any guy to make you feel special.” “Bella...” I start, but she cuts me off. “No, I refuse to let you be sad about this. It takes you forever to get over a guy, even when they do crummy things,” She shakes her head in distaste. “You’re so pretty, I bet any guy in this bar would make out with you if you asked them!” “C’mon, Bella, don’t be silly.” I feel my face flush at the very thought of kissing some random stranger. Bella smells blood in the water though, I can see it on her face. “I mean... ugh, I hate to agree with that loser, but you can be a little...” Bella hesitates, and I slowly raise my eyebrow at her. “Serious?” “You said it, not me.” Bella takes a drink. I let out a huff. “I just... I take important things seriously! Is that a crime? That doesn't make me boring, it makes me...reliable?” I’m way too drunk to think of a good word to use. “I dunno. I just... don't like spontaneous stuff. Especially not stuff like kissing a random person.” “C'monn, Aria, live a little!” Bella smiles, pushing me a bit playfully. I lean with it, the drink making my body pliant. Despite her teasing, I can feel a smile on my face. “If you loosened up, I bet you could forget all about that loser Jackson.” “Okay, loosen up how?” I indulge her, putting up another hand to get another shot from the bartender. “I dunno, do exciting stuff! Skydiving! Mountain climbing!” “Seems like a lot of work,” I say sarcastically. “Okay okay, how about we start with what I suggested earlier?” Bella smirks, and I’m pinned by her gaze. “C'mon, I’m not kissing anyone at this bar.” I look around, and sure enough, I don't see anyone that's particularly my type. “Okay, then don’t kiss anyone here! How about...” Bella gets a wicked grin on her face. “You kiss the next person that walks in?” “Oh my god, no, no way.” I laugh at her, but I can tell from her gaze she’s serious. “C'mon! You gotta prove that loser wrong.” “What if the next guy that walks in looks like an orc?” I say. That third (fourth? fifth?) shot of tequila is making its way through me fast. I already feel like what she’s proposing isn't that much of a big deal. “That’s part of the thrill!” I throw Bella a judgmental glare which she just laughs off. “C’mon, it's just one kiss.” I know I’m drunk when I realize I’m actually considering this. What's one kiss in the grand scheme of things anyway? The worst that can happen is we get thrown out of the bar. I get my next shot and down it quickly. I’m going to need to be drunk to go through with this. I think distantly. It goes down like hot fire, and I slam the glass back onto the bar, mind-made. “Fine. But I can veto him if he’s not to my taste.” She pumps her fist in victory, and both of our eyes look over towards the door in anticipation. We watch for a bit, and I’m about to call it off when the door opens. I barely get a glimpse at the guy before I feel Bella push me off the barstool. “Go!” Bella urges. “Do it without thinking!” I hesitate for only a moment, but the drink makes me feel a little more confident. I walk over, head held high. The bar is so dimly lit, I can’t make out the guy's face. Just his cleanly pressed suit and long hair. Either way, the goal is not to think, right? So, without any hesitation, I walk right up to him, close my eyes, and capture his mouth in a kiss. I was intending to make it brief, just a peck, but he drew me in. His tongue feels electric against mine, and I am overcome with the desire to go even further, to put my hands into his long raven hair, and pull him in deeper. But while I am drunk, I’m not that drunk. I pull away before I am further tempted, my face flushed. I can’t believe I just did that! I scream internally. I open my eyes to see a really handsome guy looking back, with an expression of pure shock across his chiseled features. He seemed a little familiar, like I’d seen his face before. I’m shaken away from my admiration by another man, a blonde guy with a very short haircut. He steps between me and the long-haired guy, his face stormy. “What the heck are you doing?” He remarks, and I suddenly feel embarrassed. I feel a hand grab my arm, and I turn to see it belongs to the bar owner. This just went from bad to extremely bad! “I’m sorry sir, I didn’t catch up to her in time. You okay?” I look back at the handsome guy, and his eyes are looking me over, scrutinizing me. I notice that his suit seems much more expensive than I thought, and I can definitely see a high-end watch brand on his wrist. I feel awash with shame, suddenly realizing how badly I just messed up. Did I just... make out with some famous VIP?! Chapter 2 Did I just... make out with a famous VIP?! The handsome VIP looks at me with a questioning glare, and I quickly try to offer some kind of justification. “I-I’m so sorry!” I stutter out, taking several steps back. “I… I just…” I flounder for a moment. How the heck would I be able to explain myself? Nobody normally kisses random strangers because of a silly dare! I decide to just lie, hoping I don’t slur my words and come across as some kind of drunk sleaze. “I just thought you were someone else!” I squeak out. “It’s dim in here, I-I didn’t realize…” The VIP just raises a singular eyebrow, and the gesture alone takes my breath away. Now that I can see him clearer, it's plain to see just how unfairly handsome he is. His expression shifts to one of disdain. “Right,” he begins, and his voice demands attention from everyone around us. He looks to the bar owner, who still has my arm in his grasp. “Do you normally allow this kind of behavior in your establishment?” “No! Of course not Mr. Avarise.” The bar owner clearly wants to impress the guy. Mr. Avarise gives a faint nod to me, as if I’m nothing more than dirt on his shoe. “Then I suggest you get rid of the problem.” He says offhandedly. I feel like I should be offended for only a moment before the more rational side of my brain takes over. It was kind of an offensive move to kiss him without permission, I think, and my shame grows even further. “Certainly, certainly.” The bar owner begins to drag me off, and I stumble in his grasp. The VIP, Mr. Avarise, just gives a curt note and walks on, giving me one last piercing stare before he leaves to go towards the upstairs of the bar, followed by the blond man and his entire entourage. They’re probably going to the exclusive VIP area on the upper floor, I realize. Once they leave, the bar owner lets go of me, and I see Bella walk up to where I am. It’s right about now I noticed just how many people were looking at this entire scene. This just keeps getting worse and worse! I internally scream. “Okay, so, I can’t really kick you out over something like that, but…” The bar owner sighs, and holds up some strange-looking clips of paper. “Here are some free vouchers. If I give these to you, could I close your tab early and see you out?” “Of course!” Bella interrupts, grabbing the vouchers out of his hand. “We were just leaving anyway!” I feel myself nodding along. I am way too embarrassed by that entire affair to be sitting around the people who just saw me do that. Bella takes over closing the tab, and I cannot wait to get out of there. It's clear the other patrons were watching the entire scene, and all of my attention was focused on trying to leave. As soon as we walk out into the cool night air, Bella lets out a high, shrill laugh. “Woooow! I didn’t know you had that in you!” She hollers, and I just put my face into my hands. “That’s probably the boldest thing you’ve ever done, Aria! I’m so proud, they grow up so fast!!” Bella chimes in cheerily, looping her arm in mine as we start our drunk walk home. “I’m never doing something like that again,” I vow. “Seriously, it's just my luck he ended up being some big shot, huh!” “I know! What are the odds! It’s a shame he didn’t seem to appreciate your attention.” Bella shakes her head. “You could’ve probably gotten his number if he is less of a prude!” “Yeah, right. Anyone normal would do the same thing if a random person kissed them out of nowhere.” I assert. “I was the misbehaved one there, if anything.” “I dunno, that kiss did seem really hot, though.” Bella sighs wistfully, but I can tell she’s trying to be funny. “Perhaps in another life…. I can see it now! Aria, the rich CEO’s doting wife!” “Oh, stop.” I scoff, shoving her playfully. “If you’re done telling jokes, let’s focus on getting home. I’d rather not hear about whatever daydream fantasy you have in your head about my love life.” I wake up the next morning with a piercing headache and a lingering feeling of shame. A typical Monday morning, all things considered. I slowly go through my morning routine, rolling out of bed, getting dressed, and cursing myself for not drinking enough water the night before. It’s only when I brush my teeth in the mirror that I remember everything that happened last night, and I let out a weary grunt of suffering. I am the worst human alive, I think, shoving my head into my hands. I am never going to drink tequila with Bella on Sundays ever again!! As my headache dissipates (thank you, painkillers), I notice that another part of my body seems to be smarting as well. I peel back my shirt collar to reveal a strange-looking mark. It looks almost like a burn, my skin raised red in the shape of crescent around my collarbone. When did I get that? I wonder. Probably something I did last night and forgot about. I write it off, vowing to pick up some kind of ointment for it while I’m out, and continue my morning routine. I dress pretty casually for today, partially because I’m taking care of a large number of dogs for today and partially because I am way too hungover to wear something cute but uncomfortable. I slip on some shades and head out the door to begin my walking route, picking up the dogs I need to walk along the way. Being a dog walker isn't glamorous, it's true, but it's something fun to do to make money along with my other part-time jobs. Besides, my neighbors’ dogs are unfairly adorable, and they need someone to walk them while everyone else is away at work. I’ve always been a dog lover, so I don’t really mind the simplicity of the job. I walk along with the various dogs, feeling a bit better as my headache lessens with every step. Seeing as it's a nice day, I decided to swing by the park. All five of the dogs seemed excited to play in the wide space today, so I quickened my pace to keep up with them. That is, until all of the dogs in my care suddenly come to a dead stop. Each one of them is looking forward, ears high and on alert. I’m a bit confused by the behavior, I’ve been walking them for a while and they’ve never done anything like this. I try to determine what has them on alert, and that's when I notice an extremely large dog bounding toward us. The dog appears to be a husky, but it's huge, much larger than any husky I’ve seen. I could almost confuse it for a wolf, until it gets closer and begins to try and sniff at me. My other dogs seem scared of it, moving out of their way and whimpering, trying to be still. These dogs are never still, so I exercise caution when I put my hand out for the husky to sniff. It nuzzles my hand, and it doesn't look aggressive in any way. It doesn't really seem all too dangerous… I think. I decide to bury my hands in its soft fur, giving it a few long head scratches. The wolf, no, husky, seems happy to be given attention. “Who is your owner, little guy?” I say offhandedly, not really expecting a response. “Sorry, that would be me.” I’m startled by the shout of a deep, familiar male voice. I quickly remove my attention from the dog and spin around, coming face to face with that same handsome guy from last night running up to me. He isn’t dressed as sharply as he was last night, but he is still a sight to behold. Broad shoulders under a clean white button down, dark long pants which are somehow free of any dog hair. His long black hair is tied up, revealing graying sideburns. The sun reveals that the dim lighting in the bar didn't hide anything, he really was just as handsome as I remembered! “O-Oh, sorry, he’s, uh, pretty friendly, huh?” Heck! Just my luck! I inwardly panic, pulling myself away from his husky. I hope he doesn't recognize me! He narrows his gray eyes at me, and I’m once again captivated by that lingering stare. The hope of me remaining unrecognizable dies in my throat at his words. “Oh. Why is it you again?” Chapter 3 “Ah, right! Um…” I nervously laugh, a habit I’ve never been able to fully get rid of. This is the worst thing that could’ve possibly happened to me this morning! He barely looks at me, his attention firmly focused on his dog. “Lucas.” At just his words, the dog underneath my hand shifts, ears going straight up. He sits, ears at attention, but refuses to leave my side. Mr. Avarise seemed a bit frustrated, and I hurried to try and find some way to salvage this horrible social interaction. “I...-I am really sorry about last night,” I start, trying for a smile. “I was super drunk, and… well, you could probably tell that, I just mean-” “It’s fine.” He cuts me off, his tone cold. “R-Right.” I stutter. He seems unwilling to continue any kind of conversation, so I do what I normally do in any social situation where I’m in over my head; try to pet the nearest animal. Thankfully, the dog (apparently named Lucas) was still sitting right in front of me. I stick my hand out, eager to pet him again. Wait.” The VIP’s tone is so commanding it stops me in my tracks. I look back up at him, and he stares at me warily. “I don’t know what method you used to make Lucas run to you, but he is not an affectionate dog. He bites.” “He ran here on his own. And… he seemed fine when I pet him earlier,” I remark, and a look of surprise crosses over Mr. Avarise’s handsome features. To prove I’m not lying, I let my hands brush over Lucas’ head, and sure enough, the dog seemed right at home. Panting heavily, tail wagging, he seems extremely enthusiastic to have my hands in his gray fur. “How did you manage that?” He asks, and he genuinely sounds interested. “Lucas is… particularly picky with who he likes.” “Oh, well…” I flounder for a bit, unsure as to how I can explain. “Dogs have always liked me, ever since I was young. In fact, I’m the most professional dog walker in the area!” I try to put off a cheery attitude despite my low energy this morning. “If you need some help with him, let me know, I could-” “I don’t need to pay someone to do something so frivolous.” He states, and the words stop me in my tracks. Right, he still hates me for last night. I think. “Right, sorry.” I stop my fervent petting of Lucas, and level him with an apologetic smile. “I just realized, you don’t even really know me, and I’m here asking to take care of your dog…” “I’m Aria.” I hold my hand out, hoping that he doesn’t hate me enough to rebuke me. He stares at my hand for only a moment before taking it, his grip firm and unflinching. “Darren. Darren Avarise.” I feel a rush of relief, finally happy I’ve learned his name after so long. “Right! Um,” I took a look around, seeing how my other dogs seemed to cower away from Lucas. I feel a spark of worry hit me as I notice, and I deduce that getting them away from Lucas would probably be the wisest option, before they start getting all riled up. “I suppose I’ll let you get on with your day then!” I say, feeling a bit awkward and worried I’m taking up too much of his time. “Likewise.” He states neutrally. I take a step away from Lucas, but as I do, Lucas quickly lunges. His teeth grab onto my sweatpants, not roughly, just enough to try to get me to stay. I look down at Lucas in alarm before looking up at Darren. He seems just as surprised as me, eyes locked onto his dog. The two of them exchange glances, almost like they are having some kind of mental battle, and I can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of what’s happening to me. “Ah, guess he really likes my pants,” I say nervously, giving a little pat on his head, and encouraging Lucas to let go. With my goading, he reluctantly lets go of the black fabric. I let out a laugh, almost unintentionally. “What a sweetheart…” I say offhandedly. The dog really was cute, even if he was much bigger than almost any other dog I’ve ever seen. As much as I want to stay here petting Lucas all day, I get the feeling Darren wouldn’t approve. “Wait.” As I begin to start walking off, I’m stopped by Darren’s commanding voice. “I… It is…rare to find someone Lucas accepts.” He says every word begrudgingly, almost like he regrets even stopping me. “What is your contact information?” “O-Oh! Um, here!” I hold out my business card, thankful that I usually remember to bring them on my dog walks. I’m completely shocked that he’s actually giving me a chance! I let a genuine smile out as he goes to grab it, my fingers mere inches from his. “That should have my email and everything,” I say, and there’s a moment he stares me down, gray eyes cataloging my face. I can’t help but blush under the scrutiny, and he quickly takes the card away from me. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just a precaution.” He says quickly. “Still, I appreciate it.” He gives me one last glare before he looks back down at his dog. “Lucas, Come.” He states with his commanding tone, and the dog gives me one last look before it bounds back to its owner, seemingly full of energy. Darren quickly turns around without as much as a goodbye. “Um! Hope you and Lucas have a good day!” I let out, and Darren merely waved his hand above his head in lieu of a verbal goodbye. I can’t help thinking it rude before I write it off as him being busy. A rich guy like him probably has better things to do on a Monday than let me pet his dog all day! I can’t help but think. Come to think of it, so do I. I look down at all the dogs around me, who have perked up with energy now that Lucas has left. I quickly resume my walk, replaying the interaction in my head over and over. I can’t wait to tell Bella! After I finish my walk, return home, and take a shower, I’m still thinking over what happened. I can’t believe he actually wanted my help. Considering what a bad first impression I made, it wouldn't have been out of the ordinary if he just yelled in my face for even daring to touch him. The fact he was willing to give me a chance was a miracle. That is, if I call him. I can’t help but remind myself. I sit down at my computer, trying to put the interaction out of my thoughts for now so I can actually focus on working through my emails. Instantly, when I open up my email, one sticks out in particular. An email from that pet company I applied to ages ago! I quickly opened it up, and I swear I could feel my heart skip a beat. They actually want an interview with me! Chapter 4 I quickly began to try to get ready for the interview, mind racing a thousand miles a minute. I take the fastest shower of my life in order to wash off any lingering dog hairs. I’d applied to them almost three months ago, and received radio silence in response. It was a bit of a long shot of an application anyway, I hadn't thought I had high chances of getting in anyway. By now, I thought it was a lost opportunity, I never thought that they’d actually reply! I took care in selecting what outfit to wear. I never got to go to college, so big jobs like these were always such a long shot to get in. I could only ever get freelance and part-time jobs, which made employers think I wasn’t stable enough a lot of the time. If I was able to grab this job, it would be the exact stability I was looking for! Plus, with that stability, I could actually go ahead and adopt a dog, just like I've always wanted to. Along with the other benefits that come with stability, like an actual disposable income. I put on the best outfit I had, a red business suit with a long professional-length skirt, and hurried to the location detailed in the email. I’d run out of time trying to get ready, so I did my makeup on the subway, not even really caring about the stares I was receiving. My heart was leaping out of my throat, extremely nervous about being accepted into such a stable position. My hands twisted in my red skirt, and I couldn't help but continue to check my reflection on any surface to see if my makeup was perfect. Try to calm down, I think to myself. It’s just an advertising job for the dog-focused department. You know dogs! You’ve worked at dog shelters for years, and you’ve done excellent work with creative writing gigs. You got this! I repeated that self-affirmation over and over internally as I exited the train and headed over towards the company building. It was an imposing steel structure deep within the business area of the city. I swallowed my nerves and headed inside, head held high. As soon as I entered the modern-looking welcoming area, I felt dozens of pairs of eyes on me. It seemed like everyone around me was looking in my direction, and I could feel myself blush. Am I really that odd-looking? I think Maybe the red was a mistake? I head to the main reception area, trying to dispel my nerves. “Hi, I’m here for an interview?” I ask once I reach the main desk. The receptionists, a man and a woman, look at me in surprise for a solid moment. I dart them a confused smile, and the woman looks back at her computer, analyzing something behind the screen. The man joins her, and they both give a few suspicious looks towards me and back at the computer. “You’re human?” The man asks me. “Pardon?” I ask, but he doesn't repeat himself. I awkwardly laugh, figuring it's some weird joke. “Uh, I mean, what else would I be?” The two of them stare at me for a charged moment before they start to exchange words, too hushed for me to hear. I start to think I've got the wrong address, that is, until the woman steps out from behind the desk. “Come with me,” She says unenthusiastically, and I hesitantly follow her as she begins to walk through the complex. Everywhere we go, I seem to draw attention, eyes and heads turning to look exactly at me. I start to look at myself in the many reflective doors we pass by, but I don’t see anything outwardly strange about my appearance. Why is everyone looking at me? Am I just imagining it? I try to put them out of my mind as I’m led right up to the small interview room. The receptionist gestures for me to open it, and once I do, I see a well-dressed-looking man with a pair of large glasses on his face. The first thing he asks upon shaking my hand throws me once again. “Human?” His handshake is firm, and I try to match its intensity. I nervously laugh. They must really like this joke at this pet company, huh? I think. “Yes, of course,” I say like I’m in on the joke. The glasses on the man's face do nothing to hide the disdain. He seems almost… disappointed by my answer? “Uh, haha, right.” He says, taking a seat at his desk. I quickly sat on the opposite side, eager to really impress him. “I just want to say, I’m super thankful for this opportunity,” I say with a smile. “I’ve always been super passionate about dogs, ever since I was young!” “Mmhmm.” The interviewer isn't even looking at me, he’s on his computer, looking at something else. I’m a little insulted, but I try to carry on. “Right. Well, I think I’ve got a lot of experience for the position, I’ve done a lot of freelance writing, and with my extensive experience with your main clientele, I think-” “Look,” The man interrupted me, and I quickly shut up, mentally cursing my nerves. You talked too much!! “I’ll be honest with you, I don’t think your experience is going to be relevant here.” “P-Pardon?” “Your education is also lackluster. I don’t really think you have the requirements to join our company.” His words hit me like a slap to the face. I feel a twinge of rage mixed in with my overwhelming shock. “I don’t understand,” I start, trying to keep my composure. “Why call me in if I didn’t meet the requirements? You had that information already!” “Ah, my apologies then,” he says, and I can tell he isn’t slightly sorry. He still isn't even looking at me, just locked onto his computer screen. “Our system glitches sometimes, it was probably a mistake that your resume was accepted.” “My job application was submitted three months ago,” I say, feeling more heartbroken with every second I spend in this room. “Why accept a months’ old application if you aren't even interested?” “Look, we’re very sorry, but you just don't meet our requirements. One of my subordinates must have made some kind of mistake.” I can feel angry hot tears start to form in my eyes, but before I can say another word, the door to the room opens with a slam. “I called her in.” Darren’s at the door, Lucas right on his heels. Lucas quickly ran in and circled around the chair I was sitting in, clearly happy to see me. “Do you think that was my mistake?” “Oh! Um, of course not, Alp-” He cuts himself off, looking at me. “Sir Avarise.” Darren glares at him, and suddenly the pieces are starting to connect. I sit there shocked as Lucas starts to nudge at me with his wet nose. This is when I realized Darren must be his boss, and this interview was set up right after I talked to him this morning. Did he actually want to hire me? Even though he said he didn’t want to before? And more importantly…did that mean I accidentally kissed the CEO of a multimillion-dollar pet company last night?! I can’t help but inwardly scream. Chapter 5 “My apologies, Sir.” The interviewer grabs a few papers, looking eager to leave. “I didn’t know it was you who requested such an interview. I’d never question the Alpha’s decision.” Alpha? I almost ask, but I figure it’s some weird ‘employee-at-a-pet-company’ hierarchy gimmick. These people are strange! “See that you don’t,” Darren says, and with a single dismissive nod, the interviewer leaves quickly. The two of us stand in the room for a moment, and I can’t help but let my questions bubble to the surface. “So, you’re the boss around here?” “Indeed.” He answers cooly, and I feel my temper rise “So you did want to hire me,” I say, standing up from my seat. “Why? I thought you didn’t want someone ‘frivolous’.” I couldn’t help but throw up air quotes, a little annoyed by the fact he made me nervous for no reason. He could’ve just asked me to work for him at the park, honestly! Making me go through this whole embarrassing situation left me wrong-footed. “Lucas was very taken by you,” Darren says simply, and I feel my eyebrows rise in surprise. “He became… restless, upon our return home.” “Really? He liked me that much?” “It appears so.” He seems a little annoyed by the fact. “Name a price, any price, and I’ll hire you to be his full-time caretaker.” “Well…” I hesitated, feeling off-balance. A gig like that sounded extremely tempting, not to mention lucrative. But, if it ever fell through, I’d be right back where I started with no way to support myself long-term. I pause before speaking up again; “I only applied here so I could work in the advertising department. Did you even look at my resume?” “You wouldn't have to work in this position.” Darren asserted. “It would be more trouble than it's worth, not to mention more work. All I need is a full-time dog sitter.” “Well-” He senses my hesitation, and he leaps to interrupt me. “You could be making double what you would be if you worked here traditionally. Like I said, name your price, and I will accommodate.” “Look, Darren, it's awfully nice of you to offer,” I start, looking him over. His expression is intense, and I get the feeling he’s probably used to just getting his way with a snap of his fingers. He wants me specifically, for what reason I’m not sure, but it's clear I do have some leverage here. “Honestly, if caring for Lucas is the only reason you hired me, I don’t think I can accept your deal. Don’t get me wrong; I like dog sitting, and Lucas is a sweetheart, but…” I try for a weak smile. “Well, a job with more stability and advancement is something I’ve been really searching for. If that isn't in the cards then… you might as well not hire me at all.” I begin to take a step towards the door, but Lucas stops me in my tracks. He practically howls, the sound sharp in the small interview room. I take a step back in surprise, and Lucas looks at me with shining puppy-dog eyes. He seems really distressed, and he rushes to stand right in between me and the door. I look back up at Darren, who seems lost in thought. Darren POV ‘Let Mommy stay!’ Lucas said in our mind link, sounding on the brink of a temper tantrum. I can’t help but let my frustration show through our link. ‘How many times do I have to tell you, she’s human! Not your Mommy!’ I let out a sigh outwardly. I look back at this human, her face hopeful and innocent-looking. If I were to hire her as an employee, she’d be entering into the werewolf world. Humans are not usually hired at my company, with only a few exceptions to that rule, and there's a good reason for it. Her life would be in constant danger, as no humans could ever learn of our existence. Not to mention, if she ever found out that Lucas was my son, I’d be the one signing her death warrant. She would most likely find out about Lucas the longer she takes care of him, as the date of his first shift out of his wolf form draws near. They’d have to keep up the charade that he’s just a wolf until he was much too old for it. But, I do need her. I remind myself. No one at the company can even get near Lucas, let alone seek his approval. My Beta Liam, my assistants, no one could cater to his needs effectively. And I cannot keep dragging him into business meetings or on international flights, it just wasn’t feasible. Especially once he shifts out of his wolf form, it would just be too inconvenient. He’s never liked anyone but me taking care of him. But for some reason, he likes this human, Aria. Even now, Lucas seems in a happier mood just upon seeing her. Having her help would be immensely beneficial for me and my company, not to mention my son’s well-being. I let out a mental grunt, trying to weigh out my options. ‘I can hear you thinking from where I am, halfway across the office,’ I hear the words of my Beta, Liam, in my mind through our link. ‘The human is playing hardball?’ ‘It seems so.’ I send the memory of my current conversation with Aria through the link, along with my thoughts on the matter. ‘In my opinion, Alpha, the pros outweigh the cons’ Liam sends. ‘Having her take care of him saves you time and leaves you free for business trips. The only complication would be forcing Lucas to stay in his wolf form around her.’ ‘That will be harder to maintain as he grows up’ I remind him. ‘We can cross that bridge when we get to it.’ He says, and I realize I can’t help but agree with his points. ‘Besides, if she ever does find out, we’d just have to silence her, like we have with every other mortal who found out about us. It wouldn’t be difficult.’ ‘That won't happen.’ For some reason, the idea of murdering this human sends a wave of displeasure through me. I quickly suppress the feeling so it doesn't transfer through my mind link with Liam. ‘Beta, ensure the employees are made aware of our… newest human applicant.’ ‘Right away, Alpha.’ He sends one last link before the connection is muted. I force my mind to the present, my focus directly on the shorter human woman in front of me. “Fine. I accept your terms.” I state, and the relief is evident on her face. “But, you start as an intern. If you do a good enough job here, we can start you full-time. And you will take care of Lucas when the need arises.” “O-Of course!” I see Aria’s face light up in joy, “That’s excellent. I won’t let you down!” I can’t help but feel satisfied with her ambition and determination to rise to the challenge. However, I also feel a small bit of worry enter my heart. I make a silent promise. You better not uncover our secret, human. | LEARN_MORE | https://befant.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18672&u | Galaxy in the Story | https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/ | 2,488 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | befant.com | IMAGE | https://befant.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18672&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/t39.35426-6/480459412_2598111517055946_7253221024977384241_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=1_cES6RjPt4Q7kNvgFL2ULt&_nc_oc=AdheT9zPB_jfxAyUMdpy4XC5F0Ri1jnkr_sSmh-_3gnC_NFOBD4CsbTZBOFzJ5i5hzwxEb71sXDfVo8HhZggXqse&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A4f9wtYCVk2qRERWszdpaI0&oh=00_AYCGepOKXoZTco8gvoai4MfKocgfFdj3SQFay9dvYtC-cQ&oe=67CB8ED7 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Galaxy in the Story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔞Attention! Do not read in public!👉 | "Where is she?" I hear the Beta scream. I groan and rise to my feet, grabbing the cleaning basket before heading over. The moment Beta Kyle sees me, he strides towards me and his hand slices against my cheek. I don't make a sound. Years of experience has taught me to keep my mouth shut at all times. "Alpha Trey and I are expecting company and you still have not cleaned the office." Beta Kyle spits at me. I nod my head and my hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If only I could find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make my day. But I didn't need another week locked up with no food. My stomach already hurt enough. "We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Don't you understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!" I don't answer, It's a trap, a ploy to provoke me into saying something that would justify punishment. I keep my eyes lowered, avoiding his gaze. Alpha Dane, I had only ever heard rumours about him. He was a ruthless man, a Wolf feared by others. He didn't mess around and he had the largest pack. "He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!" We had never been attacked and we had never attacked anyone, so why did we need another pack to help us? He grabs my shoulders, his nails digging into my skin as he turns me around and kicks me into the office. "Useless Wolf." He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean against it, observing the already clean office. It looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing my eyes, I slide down to the floor. I hated this house. I thought that when I turned eighteen, I could finally escape, but four years later, here I still am, a slave in my own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for my brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While my ex mate, Beta Kyle waltzes around reminding me of how worthless I am. Someone clears their throat and I freeze, I thought I was alone. Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair, just around the corner. A foot propped up on his knee as he nurses a glass of alcohol. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don't quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. "Is this the way you greet all Alphas?" His deep voice rumbles through the room, there was an edge of amusement to his tone. "I'm sorry." I whisper, getting to my feet. "I...I thought I was alone." I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. "Come forward." He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey wil kill me. I step around the corner, doing as I'm told, allowing him to see me properly. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. "You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?" I nod, though I couldn't tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. "I would prefer it if you spoke to me." He growls, "I'm not in the mood to play games." "Yes." I whisper. I couldn't help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? "Why do you smell strange? And how is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me." "I..." I hated the question. "You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. It's rude to not look at them. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?" His deep voice sends a shiver through me. Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them, there was no way I was making eye contact."My Wolf abilities were bound," I mutter. Twice, I wanted to add. Twice my abilities were bound. But he probably wasn't interested in that part. He leans forward, I could feel him staring at me, "Why would someone do that?" If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. "It was a punishment." I whisper. It wasn't far from the entire truth. There's a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn't tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me "Neah, what are you doing in my office?" He turns to the crimson eyed man. "I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it's him. My brother spins around, hand poised to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He is taller than my brother, more muscly too. "Neah," My name rolls off of his tongue, "was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested." What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. "Go and get Beta Kyle." Alpha Trey seethes. "Tell him our guest is here." I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. "Beta Kyle," I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. "Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you." He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. "You're lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't see sunlight for a few days." Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn't speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn't last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. "Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating." I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. "Neah is your sister, correct?" Alpha Dane questions my brother. "She is." Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. "Why do you treat her like trash?" Straight to the point, my brother wouldn't like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. "Neah was responsible for our parents' death." Alpha Trey spits I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Responsible how?" Alpha Dane's voice rumbles through me. He was definitely angry. "She served them Wolfsbane." Don't make a sound. Don't make a sound. I knew Alpha Dane was studying me. They all did, no one could ever quite believe how someone could do something so disgusting as poisoning their own parents. I stood there, with my head hanging low, wishing for the ground to open up and suck me in. There are movements around me. He was standing directly in front of me. With a rough finger he tilts my face up towards his, forcing me to look at him. "You poisoned your parents?" "I was six." I splutter. "I just made them lemonade." My voice comes out all squeaky as I try to defend myself. I could barely remember my parents, but I could remember all the guilt I had been made to feel since that day. His crimson eyes flash to my brothers. "Hardly seems fair to blame a six year old." "A six year old should know the difference between plants." Alpha Trey snaps "Sounds to me like she was set up." Alpha Dane shrugs his shoulders, letting go of me. "You weren't there, Alpha Dane." My brother muttered through gritted teeth as his eyes narrowed to slits. "I didn't ask you here to talk about my slave!" Alpha Dane grabs his leather jacket from the chair. Unlike other Alpha's he seemed to dress more casually. A simple black tee and jeans covered his huge frame. And unlike other Alpha's, his arms are bare of tattoos, not a single bit of ink poked out anywhere. "You're right and now I have a few things to mull over." "I thought we agreed." My brother exclaims "Nothing has been signed. Now I will show myself out." The moment he is out of the office, both my brother and Beta Kyle round on me. "What the heck did you say to him?" My brother demands, slamming a hand into my stomach. "N...nothing. Well, he just asked me why I smelled funny." "Did you tell him?" Beta Kyle demands. He was practically spitting in my face. I hated him. I hated him so much that I had vowed to one day get my revenge and rip his stomach out through his mouth. "WELL?" My brother yells when I don't immediately respond and smacks me across the side of the head. My head involuntarily moves up and down. "But I didn't say it was you." I tried to sound strong and confident but it just comes out as a whisper. My brother's hand locks into my black hair as he yanks my head back, sending a shooting pain through my skull. "If you have ruined this, you won't see daylight again." He drags me by my hair from the office and down the hallway towards the basement door. "Please…." I beg. "He was an Alpha…I… I had to answer him." My cheeks burn with my tears as he flings the door open. On the other side of the door is Alpha Dane. He is leaning against the wall with his arms folded, staring out at us. My brother's hand falls from my hair, relieving the pressure on the back of my skull... "Alpha Dane, I thought you had left." Alpha Trey murmurs angrily. "I said I would show myself out. I thought I had found the door, but instead I find a basement, riddled in your sister's strange scent. Is this how you treat your family?" "As I said," my brother holds his ground, "She is responsible for the death of my parents, so yes, this is what she deserves." "You should keep your nose out of other packs' business!" Beta Kyle adds. Alpha Dane laughs. "If I agree to this deal, everything about your business becomes my business. So tell me, what would your punishment be for her? No food, locked away for a week, beatings?" Both Alpha Trey and Beta Kyle hold their tongues. There was no reason for him to defend me and yet he was. I was a nobody, no one special. Just who everyone called a traitor. Only instead of being given a death sentence, my brother had decided to make me spend my life suffering. I see those crimson eyes land on my swollen face. "I have a proposition for you, Alpha Trey." Alpha Dane speaks up again. "We have already agreed on terms." "Well, I'm adding one. And if you don't agree, you will not get my help. Instead, you will become my enemy. And we both know, you don't want that." "I take it that your new terms have something to do with her?" Alpha Trey mutters through clenched teeth. "You would be correct. Let me take her away to my pack and then you, Trey will have a deal." Me? Why would he want me? As my brother and his Beta discuss me, Alpha Dane is still studying me. His look made me nervous. What could someone like him possibly want with me? "Deal." Alpha Trey sticks out his hand for Alpha Dane to shake. He doesn't take it, instead his crimson eyes shift from me to my brother. "I will have paperwork drawn up and will return tomorrow." He reaches a hand out and cups my face, "Ensure you have everything packed." He drags his thumb across my bottom lip and strides to the opposite end of the hallway and straight to the front door. He knew exactly where the front door was, so what was he up to? He pauses at the door. "If I find out any one of you has laid a hand on her. The contract will be the last thing you need to worry about." He struts out, slamming the door behind him. After Dane leaves, my brother grabs me by the collar. "You think you're going to have a good life if you follow Alpha Dane out of here? Don't be naive!" He continues in a vicious voice. "He's the coldest man in the world, he's killed nine of his mates, I'm waiting to see what happens to you!" | LEARN_MORE | https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783& | New world publications | https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/ | 3,809 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | wwwedb.com | IMAGE | At six years old, I accidentally killed my parents. For the punishment I, an alpha female, became a slave in my own house.. My wolf's abilities were bounded, twice—a crippling blow that left me vulnerable. As if I were nothing more than property, my brother sold me to a ruthless alpha as part of ... | 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/t39.35426-6/480268282_659623686420011_5400877540061372508_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=6k2IwXyp9BIQ7kNvgGd5XPb&_nc_oc=Adgbw9QDYOr0UuswisFslYUcwclRi8QxqUXrwdG32YPx2V_NhKK69WXFV_fmrmsIJ4_dsn9Q0BnSiBfevlpgPFva&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A4f9wtYCVk2qRERWszdpaI0&oh=00_AYAhfDuV5dpvoznEh8z1I3SrrS4Ln0Pj-IRxe1-UZRXbOA&oe=67CB9020 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | New world publications | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-03-03 09:54 | active | 2763 | 0 | 😍Read the next chapters👉 | It was dinner time. Dad glanced at his daughter, who was eating quietly, then frowned as his gaze fell on the empty seat at the end of the table. "Where's that worthless girl gone? Does she expect us all to wait for her?" His tone sharpened as he continued, "Looks like she needs to be punished harder!" The butler, pausing mid-motion as he set down the dishes, answered cautiously, "Mr. Stiles, Miss Jennifer is still in the storage closet. Would you like me to release her?" Dad's hand froze mid-air. His eyes flickered briefly toward the storage closet, a flash of shock crossing his face. He recovered quickly, lifting his wine glass for a sip. "For what? Maybe a few more days in there will teach her a lesson better. Otherwise, she would bully her siblings again." The butler glanced at the two children seated at the table, their cheeks rosy with health and their eyes bright with anticipation for the meal. Internally, he pitied the eldest daughter, who was still locked away. After a brief hesitation, he ventured cautiously, "Mr. Stiles… the storage closet has been quite… quiet these past few days. "Perhaps you should take a look?" Dad put his glass down with a clink and glared at the butler. "She's been in there long enough to tire herself out from screaming. "There's food, water, and air conditioning in there. If she still won't admit her faults, then she doesn't deserve to be let out." The butler seemed to have more to say, but Dad cut him off sharply. "That's enough. We're eating dinner here. Let's not ruin the mood." He waved dismissively before adding, "After dinner, you can ask her if she's willing to apologize. If she apologizes to her sister, she can come out, and the punishment's over." As if I had already been erased from his mind, Dad turned his attention to his son Ian and adopted daughter Wendy. He reached out, placing a peeled prawn into Wendy's bowl. "What's wrong, Wendy? Why aren't you eating? "You love prawns, right? Eat more." He ruffled her hair affectionately. "Are you scared? "Don't worry. I've already punished Jennifer. She'll never dare bully you again." Wendy looked up, her innocent smile shining. "I know you love me the most, Dad. "Honestly, as long as she apologizes, I'll forgive her… "But now that she's being punished, I'm worried she'll hate me even more." "She wouldn't dare!" Dad growled, his anger unmistakable. Then his expression softened as he smiled at her gently. "You're my favorite daughter. She wouldn't dare hate you." Ian grinned and chimed in reassuringly, "Don't worry, Wendy! I'll protect you! I'll chop her hands off if she ever dares to bully you again!" I couldn't suppress a laugh at the irony of Dad's words, but Ian's declaration sent a chill through me. I hadn't expected my brother to make such a horrifying promise, and the cruelty in his eyes told me he wasn't joking. It was bone-chilling. I laughed aloud, but it was a shame no one heard me. I was dead. My spirit had only been able to leave the storage room after I died. Since then, I'd been drifting, watching everything unfold from above. From my bird's eye view, I could see how the storage room door had been sealed. The only ventilation—a small hole—had been blocked with a towel. The storage room had become my coffin. I hadn't been buried alive, but I might as well have been. Chapter 2 Even now, as a spirit, just the sight of the sealed-off storage room door made me feel suffocated. It was as if the darkness would engulf me again at any moment. I staggered backward and quickly made my way to the dining room. There, Dad and Ian surrounded Wendy, their voices soft and comforting. Dad had his arm wrapped protectively around her. “You’ve lost weight recently, Wendy. You should eat more. “I know what happened last time must’ve scared you. It’s only right Jennifer gets punished for what she’s done. “I’ve gone easy on her this time, but don’t worry. I’ll make sure she knows her mistake. That’ll never happen to you again.” Ian chimed in, his tone gentle. “You’re my one and only sister, Wendy…” I stood silently behind them, listening as my father reprimanded me as if I weren’t there, and my brother denied my very existence as his sister. I wanted to cry, but no tears came. By blood, they were my only family. Yet, to them, it felt like I didn’t exist. Being tied up and thrown into that dark storage room had been torture. Yet to Dad, it seemed a fair punishment for the few minutes Wendy had spent in there. The silence and pitch-black darkness terrified me, but there was no escape. I’d gone mad, struggling against the ropes. I had to break a finger just to free myself from their binds. I banged on the door with every ounce of strength I had. I screamed, begged to be released, promised to apologize, and prayed desperately to survive. It was all in vain. All I received in response was my father’s mocking voice. “Scared already? Didn’t it occur to you that Wendy was scared too when you locked her in here?! She’s younger than you! “Stay here and shut up. You should feel how terrified Wendy was. Let’s see if you’ll dare bully your sister again after this. “And you call yourself her older sister? Hmph!” In desperation, I clawed at the door, trying to tear even the smallest slit, a tiny hole to let in air or light. My fingers bled, my nails broke, but it was all for nothing. Hopeless, I let the darkness swallow me. In my daze, I thought I heard Wendy’s voice. “It must be freezing in there, Jennifer. Don’t worry, I’ll make it warm soon.” Then I realized with horror that the air conditioning had been switched to heating mode. It was summer, and the storage room was already unbearably stuffy. As the temperature rose, the room became a sauna—a private Hell. I crawled through the oppressive heat, desperately searching for water to cool myself, only to discover that the food and water in the room had been replaced with trash. I collapsed onto the floor, helpless. Pain blurred my senses. Slowly, my consciousness began to fade. Chapter 3 After ensuring Wendy had eaten enough and was smiling happily again, Dad finally addressed the butler. "Go let Jennifer out. Make sure she's cleaned up and presentable, or she'll ruin everyone's appetite." His expression carried an air of self-satisfaction, as though letting me out of the storage closet after a week was some grand act of generosity. The butler quickly called for others to handle the task. Standing beside Dad, Wendy held his hand with a sweet, innocent smile. "Dad, please don't scold her when she comes out, okay? "She's your daughter, after all… I am not, and I'm just happy enough that you're so kind to me." Dad's eyes softened as he ruffled her hair lovingly. "You're both my daughters. However, you're my little princess." His voice carried a note of pride as he added, "You're too kind, Wendy. I've been far too lenient with Jennifer. "Don't worry. I won't let her bully you ever again. "How dare she lock you in the storage room at all?! I can't even imagine how scared you must have felt." His tone was laced with anger and disappointment, as though I were some irredeemable sinner. I couldn't help but laugh ironically. Wendy had staged the entire incident. And yet, here they were, two fools playing into her hands. A week ago, she had barged into my room, her voice dripping with malice. "I heard you applied to stay in a dorm? "You're an idiot if you think that'll make Dad pay attention to you. "All I need to do is say one word, and I can make them hate you forever. "Without you, I'll be Dad's only daughter, Ian's only sister. Everything you own will belong to me." I refused to waste my energy on her antics and simply shut the door in her face. Fifteen minutes later, she went to the storage room and started banging on the door, shouting as though someone had locked her inside. When Ian returned from his extracurricular class, he immediately "rescued" her from the storage room. Then Wendy made her move. She called Dad, her voice trembling with feigned fear. "Dad, I was so scared. "I know Jennifer doesn't like me, but I didn't think she'd lock me in the storage room. It was so terrifying. "I know I'm not related to you by blood, and it's only fair that Jennifer doesn't like me, but it was so dark in there. "Maybe you should send me back to the orphanage, Dad. Then Jennifer wouldn't feel so angry about my existence anymore." Chapter 4 Dad was in the middle of a meeting when he received the call. Without a second thought, he rushed home. As soon as he arrived, he carried a pale Wendy and roared, "You are my daughter, Wendy. No one can send you away! "Don't say a word about leaving again." At first, I thought something serious had happened, but when I stepped out of my room and saw the scene before me, the bitter irony wasn't lost on me. I was speechless. Wendy was no delicate porcelain doll, nor was she afraid of the dark. A short time in the storage room hardly warranted such theatrics. That was until Ian shouted, "It's all Jennifer's fault! She's the one who locked Wendy in the storage room! Who knows how long she would've been trapped if I hadn't come back!" Dad stormed upstairs, dragged me out of my room by my hair, and shoved me into the storage closet. Tying me up, he raged, and in that moment, I finally understood—this family had no place for me. "How could you be so evil, Jennifer?!" Ian yelled, his eyes blazing with anger. "How could you lock Wendy up? She's just a girl! Do you even know how scared she must have been? You're not my sister anymore! I refuse to have someone so evil as my sister!" "Ian is right," Dad growled, his glare cutting through me like a knife. "How could you be so heartless at such a young age? You're hopeless. "This is my house, and you have no right to order anyone around here. "You like locking Wendy in the storage closet, huh? Fine! Then you can stay in there until you understand how it feels! "You won't be allowed out until you're truly sorry for what you've done." Even now, Dad believed it was all my fault. He would accept nothing less than my complete submission—me on my knees, sobbing and begging for forgiveness. Too bad. They'd never hear that from me. The butler's trembling voice cut through the tension. "Mr. Stiles… Mr. Stiles! Miss Jennifer… is dead!" Dad's hand froze midair, hovering above Wendy's head. I stared at him, refusing to miss even the faintest flicker of emotion. Was it regret I was hoping for? Or fear? There was none. Instead, he smiled faintly and sighed in annoyance. "How dare she. "Dead? As if." Shaking his head, he added coldly, "I know my daughter. She'd do anything to survive. "Tell her to stop playing games before I call the crematorium. Then she'll really be dead." The butler stood frozen, clearly shocked. "What are you waiting for?" Dad snapped. "You have thirty minutes to get her cleaned up and ready to apologize to Wendy. Or else, you can leave with her!" "Mr. Stiles…" The butler hesitated, his voice faltering. "Get on with it!" Dad snarled, throwing the dessert in his hand—meant for Wendy—at the butler. The butler had no choice but to retreat. Dad turned back to Wendy with a smile, wiping her mouth tenderly. "We're out of dessert. Why don't we eat something else, hmm? "Wendy, when Jennifer apologizes to you later, don't forgive her too quickly, alright? "She better kneel and beg for your forgiveness before you even think about it. You're too kind to her. "You can't be too nice. Remember my words, Wendy." Wendy smirked faintly but then replaced it with an anxious, innocent expression. "I'm sure she's sorry, Dad. "She'd be so sad if I didn't forgive her…" "You're too kind, Wendy," Dad said with pride. Ian wrapped an arm around Wendy's body, smiling contentedly. What a picture-perfect, loving family. This was my so-called blood-related family. I smirked at the cruel irony and tried to move away, only to realize that I couldn't. My body was still there, binding me to this place. I had no choice but to watch as they acted all lovely-dovey in front of me, a grotesque display of affection that only deepened the bitterness in my heart. Chapter 5 Things weren't always like this, not before Wendy came into our lives. Back then, I still had a mother and father who loved me, and Ian was just a little boy. Ian and I would play together, Mom would tell me bedtime stories, and Dad would take me on walks in the park. Everything changed three summers ago. Mom and Dad left for the ancestral home while Ian and I stayed behind for school. A few days later, Dad returned with two pieces of devastating news. Mom had been in a car accident at the ancestral home. She didn't survive. And before her death, she and Dad had adopted the daughter of an old friend. I lost my mother but gained a sister. At first, I welcomed Wendy. I thought of her as the last connection I had to Mom since Mom had adopted her before the accident. I wanted a sister, too, so I did my best to care for her. I made sure no one at school bullied her, keeping an eye out for trouble in her class. I helped her with homework and took care of her whenever she was sick. I gave her everything I could as a sister, treating her like she was my own blood. However, one day, everything changed. I had gone to her class to bring her burn ointment, only to overhear her talking to her classmates. "My sister burned me by accident," she said, her voice soft and pitiful. "It's my fault—I shouldn't have brought her such a hot drink. "Please don't say bad things about her. She's really nice to me. She asks me to do chores and serve her tea, but she's never bullied me." I stood frozen, stunned by the lies. The burn on her hand wasn't my doing. She'd wanted to make coffee for Dad but claimed I had forced her to serve me hot tea. Dad had already punished me for her injury, yet I hadn't blamed her. I felt guilty for letting her into the kitchen in the first place. After hearing her lies, I confronted her at school. That day marked a turning point in my life—or maybe the change had started long before. Dad stopped doting on me. Ian no longer followed me around like my little shadow. I became an outsider in my own home, the person everyone vented their frustrations on. As I recalled the past three years, my body shuddered. Perhaps it was because the spirit itself was numb, but it felt like I had returned to the storage closet again. Chapter 6 My father's expression darkened as the half-hour mark passed, and I still hadn't appeared. "It's already been thirty minutes! What? Does she think I can't do anything to her?! "What a stubborn girl! She still doesn't understand what she's done wrong! "Hmph! I'd like to see what tricks she has up her sleeve!" In a fit of anger, he threw the teacup in his hand onto the ground, the sharp crack echoing through the room. I watched silently from behind, amused. Beneath his anger, there was a flicker of worry, though he'd never admit it. I couldn't help but snicker when he knocked into a chair as he stood up. "Wait here for me, Wendy. I'll drag Jennifer over to apologize." He stormed toward the storage room, his steps heavy with frustration. Just as he neared the door, a rat darted out, causing him to jolt in surprise. "What's going on? Where did that rat come from?!" The butler stood pale-faced by the door, his expression twisted in a grimace as he turned away. "Mr. Stiles… Perhaps you should take a look for yourself." I watched as my father stiffened, his movements robotic as he approached the storage closet. His gaze fell inside, landing on my corpse. I must admit, I was curious to see his reaction. Would it shock him? Would he finally feel remorse? Instead, he roared, "Jennifer Stiles! What the heck is this?! Get out here right now, or I'll lock you in that closet forever!" Tsk. I clicked my tongue beside him, my spectral form floating nearby. 'You should've come while I was still alive if you wanted to see me. 'I wanted to come out too, you know. Look at my hands. I was banging on that door until my dying breath. My fingers are all broken. 'Surely, my death must bring you satisfaction, hmm? 'You killed me.' My father, oblivious to my voice, leaned into the closet for a better look. That's when he truly saw it—what was left of my rat-eaten corpse lying in the middle of the storage room, surrounded by scurrying vermin. "Ah!" he gasped, stumbling back. The sudden noise startled the rats, sending them scampering. A few even leaped onto him, climbing up his body. He shrieked in shock, frantically swatting and shaking them off. The absurdity of the scene made me laugh aloud. It was rare to see him in such a humiliating state. If only I could record this moment on video. It would've made for a masterpiece. | LEARN_MORE | https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 374 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | www.qknymufd.com | VIDEO | As the last sliver of light disappeared, swallowed by the oppressive darkness, I struggled helplessly. A week passed before my father finally remembered my existence and decided it was time to end my punishment. "Let's hope this week served as a good lesson for you, Jennifer. If this happens again, you will no longer be allowed in this house." He would never know that I had already taken my last breath in that suffocating room. My body had begun to rot in the darkness. | https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=17977&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/t39.35426-6/476150442_1739067599986675_2966257246497511099_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=eXBTJcvI4MQQ7kNvgEWHLWc&_nc_oc=AdhVl6OYxTKh_UCD893YzlwZGKShOC69QnDwp7FICBeqn9ZvMwDBQPg9D2FCpvQqbgibyY1WNKxwyY2cV2Uidg_t&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AaKV_8Mv5XwrFIVaCBb-_fD&oh=00_AYBHgS7bHPZWhIpaVFRKyohJ-gKbRAIk8W_IkWiM96a6_g&oe=67CB84B9 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Read next chapter | To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi**ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his b*dmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my b*d, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red m*rk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my b*d too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You b**ch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame gr*aning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e | Heat Novel A | https://www.facebook.com/100089743291944/ | 609 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | IMAGE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=898E73583E5F98795701ED4A00B5C36F1D1F4A2064B8675D | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475917967_1093981892744583_4076171890387742752_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dIxrmRBRkX4Q7kNvgH3LKft&_nc_oc=AdiIkMtK2liyrc7FPWOAFV3VXLiVtmZPc-txMUKn8Pb6HOKrrFNkt37Cxv470WI-nkmorFkoy1x-CI-TI290-7ST&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AQHrYL89fiRSyeQRH1C1q3K&oh=00_AYD894jxVcReQI8Bx6MXDxcMbr1pVNyxi-NPjpF4dr026g&oe=67CBB757 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Heat Novel A | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Read next chapter | To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi**ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his b*dmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my b*d, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red m*rk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my b*d too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You b**ch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame gr*aning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e | Hello Read | https://www.facebook.com/61550873765205/ | 1,009 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | IMAGE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0130-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=638434121690371&exdata=C46BD16AC3078975A36151C8F91BC95AD284DE4EF03A6FE3 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475174273_1048275320667848_190908399154936028_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=cNaWYAQ2Lp4Q7kNvgHUx3uI&_nc_oc=Adj7ur5qKj76zGmg8apauy2mi0GhQjzJWqnPBrMI_We4Um8x5E1euiIjrF01t_PckvUg4GRwEz53gwC1hy6nMuQd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A5LODlAXrLvbrAiuz2YxtlI&oh=00_AYA-SndYqlrRw_ZKiSG_ywpD0CgxZeqPiTa0XMtfCifY8w&oe=67CB9E63 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Hello Read | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-03-03 09:54 | active | 2763 | 0 | 🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉 | The divorce papers were printed half an hour ago. Before that, I was sitting on the couch in the living room all night. The dozen dishes I carefully prepared remained untouched on the dining table. The Ultraman-themed cake had melted beyond recognition. Yesterday was my son Anthony’s birthday. My husband, Mark Lennon, told me to prepare everything, and that he would bring Anthony back for his birthday. However, I waited for hours at home, only to be disappointed by Sophie's post of the perfect family of four. How ridiculous. Mark did not expect me to ask for a divorce. He frowned and tore up the agreement. "Lily, what's all the fuss about? We only went to meet Sophie and forgot to tell you about it, didn't we?" After saying that, his gaze fell on the food on the dining table, and a hint of guilt flashed in his eyes. His tone softened, "Fine, I forgot to call you last night. It was my fault. I will fix that. I'll clean up the table. You go and take a nap. I'll take you and Anthony out for a meal at noon." He had always been like this, slapping me hard in the face and then rewarding me with sweet gestures after. Even if he knew that he had gone too far, he would never apologize but only grace me with a way out. If I didn't act accordingly, he would fight back until I give up and comply. In the past, I would give in, but this time, I just took out another set of divorce agreements and threw it on the coffee table, "I printed dozens of copies, you can tear them up again." Mark was so furious that he shattered a bowl into pieces. He impatiently stared at me and said, "Aren't you just jealous that Anthony likes Sophie more? Lily, don't you forget, you owe her! Anthony and I are taking care of Sophie and her daughter to atone for your sins!" Atone for my sins? What sin? Sophie and I were best friends. During the summer break of our junior year, she asked me to hang out. I was about to head home in the evening. I wanted to take the main road, but she insisted on taking a smaller road and said that a friend was waiting for her at the intersection. So we parted ways. The next morning when I woke up, Mark rushed to my house and grabbed my collar. He asked me why I didn’t call the police and why I didn't care about Sophie. I was confused at first, but later found out that Sophie had been assaulted by some gangsters after we parted ways. Sophie claimed that she got caught by them because she wanted to protect me from the gangsters. She was lying. I tried my best to defend myself, but no one believed me. The surveillance system was faulty too, so I was left with all the blame. Since then, I have been seen as a sinner in everyone's eyes. My parents reprimanded me for being ruthless, and Mark blamed me for being cold-blooded. All their love for me was given to Sophie in the name of making amends. They even took my child away, saying that I had no morals and was unworthy of raising him. Because of this, Anthony and I's relationship hung on a thread. No matter what, I loved him dearly, and I tried hard to amend our relationship. The two of us looked at each other. His eyes were cold and full of disdain, as if I was his enemy, "You ruined my father's and Aunt Sophie's lives. Without you, Aunt Sophie would have been my mother." I shuddered with a frown, "Who told you so?" Anthony frowned, "Isn't it?" I looked at Mark, expecting an explanation. However, he just avoided my gaze, "Anthony expressed that if that incident never happened, I would have married Sophie instead." In the past, I would demand an explanation. He was my childhood sweetheart, I was the one that introduced them to each other. I was his girlfriend first. Now… I could not care anymore. No matter what Anthony asked of me, I decided that I would have nothing to do with him from now on. I picked up my suitcase and walked out the door, "Have a good read, I shall see you at the attorney's." Chapter 2 Mark didn't expect my luggage to be already packed, so he rushed over to stop me. At this moment, the sound of the door unlocking came from outside. The next moment, Sophie walked in holding her daughter Tammy. I did not expect her fingerprint to be keyed into our home door's lock. However, I clearly told Mark that I didn't want to see Sophie in this home. She defamed me, she took everything from me, and I hate her. Obviously, Mark didn't take my words to heart. When Sophie saw me, her expression changed. She displayed a pitiful look, "Lily..." Tammy immediately hid behind her, as if I were a savage beast. Tammy cried and said, "Aunt Lily, don't hit my mother!" I looked coldly at this little girl — who was only ten years old — that looked extremely innocent. However, it was she who, during Christmas Eve, accused me of beating Sophie at my parents'. That night was a reunion that I had been looking forward to for several years. It was also the first time ever since the incident that my parents were willing to let me be home for the holidays. I tried hard to make my parents love me again, but Sophie pushed me down from the staircase. My leg was injured and no one batted an eye. Everyone rushed to Sophie's side instead. They gathered around her to see if she was okay. I cried from the pain and said, "She pushed me." Sophie didn't defend herself, but said bitterly with red eyes, "Whatever she said." Tammy suddenly burst into tears. As she came down the stairs, she asked, "Auntie, why did you push my mommy? Mommy did not want to come here and disturb your family reunion. It's Granny and Grandad who insisted on inviting us here. If you don't like us here, we can leave. Why did you push Mommy?" After she said that, my mother rushed up to me and slapped me in the face. She spoke with disgust in her voice, "I thought you had sincerely repented in the past few years, but I didn't expect you to be even more vicious than before!" At that moment, tears flowed out of my eyes like a broken dam. I insisted with tears in my eyes that I didn’t push Sophie, yet no one believed me. My dad looked at me with a disappointed face, "Can a child as young as Tammy know how to lie?" Mark clenched his fists and said coldly, "Lily, you really are a lost cause." Anthony came over and kicked my broken leg with intention, causing me to cry out in pain. However, no one cared about my pleas. They felt as if they had finally released their resentment after seeing me wince in pain. No one said a word, but their faces were clear and said everything — they believed I deserved every bit of this pain. Anthony said, "You are a bad mother, I hate you so much." … That day, I limped away from their home in tears. I still remember the heartache from that night. With that final push, I decided to file for a divorce. At that time, he just calmly tore apart my divorce papers and said, "Lily, don't you understand? No one can love you except me now." I was stunned and speechless, questioning if he ever even loved me. He saw through me and mocked, "If I didn't love you, how could I have tolerated all your evil deeds? Lily, your parents no longer want you. They want to accept Sophie as their adopted daughter. Just stay by my side and atone your sins for Sophie with me, okay?" That night, my unloved self was convinced by Mark. I was so scared. I was afraid that no one in this world would love me. I was afraid that if I lost this family, I would be a homeless orphan, drifting like a duckweed in the water. I didn't want to be a weed that no one liked. Therefore, I learned to give in and stayed quiet. I stopped defending myself, and allowed the father and son to ignore me and favor Sophie and her daughter under the pretext of making amends. However, my submission did not lead to a favorable result after all this time. It was too painful to look back, and my thoughts were interrupted by Anthony rushing over. Anthony pushed me away, took Tammy's hand, and comforted her, "Don't be afraid, Tammy. No one can bully you and Aunt Sophie under Dad and I's watch." After saying that, he shot me a warning look, "If you dare to hurt them, I will never call you my mother ever again." Tammy said with a sensible tone, "Anthony, don't be rude to Auntie Lily..." She looked at me with a flattering smile, "Auntie, I know you don't like me and my mommy. We are not like you. We have nothing. Can you please not drive us away?" As the saying goes, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I smiled at her, "What do you mean you have nothing? This home will be yours from now on." | LEARN_MORE | https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 | Happyday | https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/ | 1,663 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | www.qknymufd.com | VIDEO | https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=17448&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/t39.35426-6/473620570_2049013358949436_1612529677041389093_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=vlmnANM4zI4Q7kNvgEg-mJk&_nc_oc=AdjWyGhgE1ORrscoF-vEw0Mzw1MdWHh9dY3Ghu8PRS8rX7pCVVLYcKArGeHSGcHpvlOwgg9KY84r01YXcABr-jNM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AaXDJLIt9MHACl44V5L2sNp&oh=00_AYBdqwp0mY8rTImNeoq-27wgK6BD75PQdgCPpU_Bvss6Tw&oe=67CB8FC9 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Happyday | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-03-03 09:54 | active | 2763 | 0 | 😍Read the next chapters👉 | [Mrs. Gardner, are you sure you want to hire our team to stage a fire and fake your death in ten days?] Camellia Shaw paused for a moment. Just as she was about to reply to the message, a video call suddenly popped up. "Camellia, look! Andres is spending a fortune on you again!" The video was of an auction in progress. At the front, a man of striking elegance and charm was decisively bidding on several antique collectibles worth hundreds of millions. The crowd was already abuzz with excitement. "Mr. Gardner is so good to his wife! He bought all these antiques just to make her smile!" "$400 million is nothing! I heard Mr. Gardner even built her a private estate and named it Eterna Haven. Just the name alone is proof of how much he loves her." A wealthy businessman nearby sneered. "It's all for show. Who knows what he's really like behind closed doors?" That comment immediately sparked a wave of backlash. Many argued back, talking about how devoted Andres Gardner was to his wife. "If anyone in our circle could make me believe in love, it would be those two." "Mr. Gardner had risen to fame as a genius young painter, but it was his masterpiece, 'Beyond the Ordinary,' that made him a household name. "He once said his wife was his muse and source of inspiration. You can see his affection for her in every stroke and in every shadow of his paintings." As she listened to their murmurs, Camellia forced a bitter smile. She and Andres had entered an arranged marriage to merge their powerful families, meeting for the first time at the county clerk's office. Her family had never given her much love, so she assumed her marriage would be just as emotionless. However, Andres unexpectedly showered her with a special kind of affection. He remembered her peanut allergy and lactose intolerance, and he always prepared exquisite, expensive gifts for her birthday. Her heart softened over time. She even took him to visit her late mother's grave. Andres had solemnly vowed in front of the gravestone, "Mom, I swear that if I ever betray Cam, may I lose the one I love the most." Camellia laughed bitterly to herself. When did things start to change? Perhaps it was when she learned about his first love, who had passed away long ago, and found out he had taken in her younger sister to care for her. Maybe it was the day Valentina Dawson returned from abroad, throwing herself into his arms with a familiar intimacy he did not even try to refuse. Perhaps it was the faint lipstick stains on his shirt and the barely visible bite marks on his collarbone... That was when Camellia could no longer lie to herself. "Mr. Gardner, can you tell us if these are birthday gifts for Mrs. Gardner?" The question from the video snapped her back to the present. Andres' clear and steady voice rang out from the phone, "No, these are just small trinkets. I've prepared something far better for her birthday." This response drew envious gasps from the wealthy socialites watching. As Camellia prepared to end the call, she caught fragments of teasing voices in the background. "Andres, are you really planning to throw a grand wedding for Camellia in ten days?" "Of course. Anything to do with Camellia is a top priority. Make sure it's perfect!" "Understood. So… should we invite her to Val's celebration tomorrow night?" "No need. Don't let her find out." After that, Camellia could not hear anything else that Andres said. She hung up the call, staring at the message asking for her final decision. Slowly but firmly, she typed out her reply. [I'm sure.] Chapter 2 Not long after, Andres rushed home, looking travel-worn. Camellia wobbled slightly when she stood up—perhaps because she had not eaten all day—but Andres firmly caught her. "You didn't eat properly again today, did you?" he asked, his eyes full of concern as he gently scooped her into his arms. As they drew close, the sweet, cloying scent of fruit filled the air. Camellia never used perfume, so it was obvious who the scent belonged to. "What are you thinking, baby?" Andres teased while tapping her nose affectionately. Camellia's sharp eyes caught a faint red lipstick stain on his finger. On the second day of their marriage, Andres had secretly tattooed a camellia on his ring finger. He had told her that the ring finger had a blood vessel that led directly to the heart. This was a symbol of their shared bond and how she would always be connected to his heart, but that spot now bore a mark that did not belong to her. A dull pain rose in her chest. It was heavy and piercing, like a sharp blade chiseling away bit by bit. "Are you starving yourself so much you've lost your braincells?" Andres joked, kissing her forehead lightly before asking Eva Longford to serve the food that had been kept warm for dinner. Andres used to cook for her himself every day. However, some time into their marriage, his work grew busier, and the task naturally passed to the housekeeper. "Let me join you for dinner, okay? Skipping meals can really mess up your stomach," he said while carefully setting her down on a dining chair and placing the utensils by her hand. Then, he washed his hands and began peeling apples for her. "Okay," Camellia murmured, swallowing the bitterness in her heart and eating the food he placed on her plate in small bites. They had not been eating for long when Andres' phone began ringing incessantly. He glanced at the caller ID and frowned slightly before wiping his hands and stepping aside to take the call. When he returned, his expression was frantic. "Cam, something came up at the studio. I have to go handle it. Don't wait up for me tonight. You should go to bed early." He grabbed the antiques he had bought earlier. He promised to get her something even better another day and left in a rush. Once the meal was completely cold, Camellia finally stood up and went upstairs. As soon as she lay down, she scrolled through Valentina's latest post on social media. [I only had a low fever, but my boyfriend insisted on taking care of me. He even made me a table full of delicious food. Do you know how special a meal made for you by a loved one is?] The accompanying picture showed a close-up of a man in an apron cutting vegetables. As a rising name in the art world, Valentina had tens of thousands of followers on her account. The post caused a stir among her fans. [So this is the senior of hers with a nine-figure insurance policy on his right hand that Val mentioned!] [Where can I find a man like this? Can the government issue one to everyone, please?] Camellia stared at the hands in the photo and thought of Andres' promises. Her heart felt like it was being torn apart, leaving it shattered and unrecognizable. [That's nothing! Our Mr. Gardner is the gold standard for a devoted husband!] Someone had uploaded a video of the auction from earlier that day, and the buzz quickly overtook Valentina's post. [Damn, he really spoils his wife! $400 million! That's enough to buy my entire life hundreds of times over!] [Oh my God! Has anyone not been overwhelmed by Mr. Gardner's love for his wife yet? When his wife had a car accident and was scared, he risked his life to make sure he was the first person she saw when she woke up!] [Mr. Gardner is like a saint in our elite circle. He still wears the rosary beads Camellia gave him, perfectly polished from years of use. He never takes them off!] Valentina's fans went quiet under the video. Compared to Andres' public displays of devotion, a single meal could not measure up. However, a newly-registered user suddenly posted three photos. One showed the transfer of ownership for an Aurelia winery, another depicted a necklace worth $200 million called ‘The Heart of the Ocean’, and the last featured Valentina holding car keys while sitting on the hood of a Ferrari. The user captioned it: [If someone else has it, our Val can't be without it.] Fans exploded in praise, calling her senior powerful and declaring him on par with Andres. Just then, a text message from an unsaved number came through to Camellia's phone. "You absolutely can't miss the celebration my senior is throwing for me tomorrow night!" Though she did not say anything, Camellia could almost hear Valentina's smugness. The message ended with the address of the venue. 742, Ocean Middle Road, Camellia Street. It was the restaurant where Camellia and Andres had their first meal together. He had promised her it would always remain closed to the public, so it would belong only to the two of them. Camellia stared at the address until her eyes stung. Her hand slipped, and the phone dropped onto her face. The sharp pain from the impact pushed her over the edge, and the tears she had been holding back spilled silently into the darkness. Chapter 3 Andres did not return home all night. Camellia ended up sitting alone in the empty living room, waiting from early morning until noon. Her phone buzzed with a social media notification. [Renowned artist Andres Gardner stands in support of his junior. What a deep camaraderie between peers!] Camellia let out a bitter laugh. Of course he did. She stopped waiting and went alone to visit her mother's grave. She bought a bouquet of lisianthus on her way over. At the cemetery, she carefully cleaned her mother's tombstone, placed the flowers in front of it, and leaned gently against the stone. It was as if she was trying to feel the warmth of her mother's embrace. Andres returned home late at night. Just as he was about to ask why Camellia had not gone to bed yet, he noticed a bundle of lisianthus peeking out of her bag. It suddenly hit him that today was her mother's death anniversary. Panic flashed across his face. "Baby, I'm so sorry. I've been so busy today that I completely forgot. It's all my fault," he stammered, cupping her face and instinctively stroking the beauty mark at the corner of her eye. Camellia noticed the faint trace of a lipstick mark on his hairline just behind his ear. She gently pushed him away, her voice calm as she said, "It's fine." Trying to ease the tension, Andres suggested, "How about we have an artist paint a portrait of us tomorrow? Once it's done, we can take a photo with it and place it at your mother's grave to give her peace of mind." Camellia wanted to refuse, but Andres was insistent, so she reluctantly agreed. The next morning at ten, the artist he had arranged for arrived. "Nice to meet you, Cam. I'm Valentina Dawson, Andres'… junior." Seeing Valentina, Andres' face betrayed a flicker of unease. Clearly, she was not the artist he had called. "Mr. Wilson had something come up, so I'm filling in for him," Valentina explained, her gaze sweeping over Camellia with a faint, inscrutable smile. "Has anyone ever told you that you look a lot like my sister, Cam?" she asked. "My sister had a beauty mark in the exact same spot as yours. The only difference is that hers was real, while yours… is drawn on." The room fell silent. Andres' expression darkened as he snapped, "Val, that's enough. "No one is more important to me than Camellia," he said firmly. Valentina blinked in surprise, then playfully stuck out her tongue at him. "Alright. I was just joking." She hooked one arm around Camellia's and led her toward the studio. With her other hand, she reached behind, tracing lazy circles on Andres' palm. Her gaze was sultry and inviting. "Andres, you're standing all wrong," she complained moments after starting the painting. Setting her brush down, she stood up and walked over to him. She caressed his face with one hand while the other trailed down his chest. Her fingers brushed over his Adam's apple, then came to rest on his shoulder. Leaning in close, she breathed warm air into his ear. "Why so tense, Andres?" His eyes darkened instantly. Camellia caught a glimpse of their interaction from the corner of her eye. Pain stabbed through her chest, and she forced herself to look away. Barely a few minutes later, Valentina suggested that Camellia's pose was not intimate enough. "Let me show you how it's done, Cam," she said with a sly smile. She pushed Camellia aside and tugged Andres forward by his tie. Her full figure pressed against his chest as her thumb brushed deliberately over the corner of his lips. Finally, she left a bold kiss on his mouth. Turning to Camellia, she tilted her head with a brazen expression. "Do you get it now, Cam?" When he saw Camellia's reaction, Andres quickly explained, "In the art world, we're a bit more… uninhibited." Camellia said nothing, merely clenching her trembling hands to keep herself composed. She excused herself to the bathroom, needing to escape. When she returned, muffled sounds from inside the room made her stop in her tracks. "Andres, no… You're going to ruin me," a woman's voice purred breathlessly. As she peeked inside, Camellia saw Valentina with one leg wrapped around Andres' lean waist. Her back was pressed against the windowsill, and she was moving in rhythm with him. Andres' eyes burned with passion as he kissed her fiercely. "You came all the way to my house! Wasn't this what you wanted?" he growled. Chapter 4 Camellia collapsed at the doorway of the studio, tears streaming down her face. She thought she was strong enough to endure anything, but witnessing this scene shattered her heart. She did not know how much time passed before she heard the rustling sound of clothes being put on from inside the room. Andres came to the bathroom looking for her and froze when he saw her red, swollen eyes. "Baby, why are you crying?" he asked. Camellia shook her head. "It's nothing. I accidentally got soap in my eyes." He let out a sigh of relief and playfully pinched her cheek. "You're still such a little troublemaker," he teased. When the painting was nearly finished, Andres was called away by his agent. With him gone, Valentina dropped the act entirely. "I know you saw it, Cam. Well, what can you do about it? Andres seems to love me more than you." She unbuttoned her shirt, revealing bruises on her skin. "When's the last time you were with him? Was it as passionate as just now? Can you even satisfy him?" Valentina stepped closer, her gaze condescending. She seemed to relish the idea of seeing Camellia break down, and she looked was expecting pain or hysteria. However, Camellia's expression remained calm and even unreadable. Underneath, her heart was shattered into countless pieces, leaving her barely able to breathe. After Valentina left, Camellia wandered aimlessly back to the studio. She suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to look at the paintings. Without turning on the light, she stumbled up to the third floor. She ended up twisting her ankle in the dark. Even so, the sharp pain from her ankle was nothing compared to the ache in her heart. Every painting that was celebrated by the public as symbols of her and Andre’s ‘perfect love’ now stared back at her. Each prominently featured the beauty mark that now felt like a mocking lie. Camellia pulled a craft knife from the penholder and slashed through the beauty marks in each painting one by one. With every cut, she severed another piece of the beautiful memories she once shared with Andres. When Andres returned home, Camellia had already freshened up and was lying in bed, ready to sleep. He barged into the bedroom, carrying a keyboard from his study in one hand and takeout from her favorite restaurant in the other. Without hesitation, he dropped the keyboard onto the floor, knelt on it, and faced her. "Honey, I know what happened today upset you. I've already reprimanded Val," he said earnestly. "I only think of her as a younger sister. She's still immature and doesn't know any better. As for her sister… That ended a long time ago. Besides, she's not even here anymore. "If you don't like it, I swear I won't see her again. But no matter how angry you are, please don't ruin your health by skipping meals…" The man who had been utterly consumed with Valentina earlier that day was now kneeling humbly before her, his tone desperate and full of affection. It was as if he could not live without her. For a moment, Camellia could not tell which version of Andres was real. If he loved her so much, how could he forget the vows he once made? If he loved her so much, why did he betray her? As Andres passed a dish toward her, he accidentally creased a page in the book lying on the bedside table. Camellia glanced over, and he casually smoothed it out and closed the book. "I fixed it. Now, eat," he said with a smile. The familiar aroma of the dish wafted from the bowl. Camellia took a few bites before saying, "But once a page is creased, it can never be perfectly smooth again." Andres, who was already sensitive about the day, tensed at her words. He knew it carried a deeper meaning. "Then I'll buy a new book. It'll be as good as new," he said, his bright eyes fixed on her. It was like his entire world revolved around her. "I'd pluck the stars from the sky for you if you asked." Camellia stayed silent, swallowing the words she wanted to say. Even if he had bought a new one, it would only be a replacement—it would no longer be the same book. She understood this truth, and he should have understood it even more. The two spent the night in silence. Over the next few days, perhaps out of guilt, Andres canceled all his work and stayed glued to Camellia's side. One day, he accompanied her to restore artifacts, buying a few antique treasures worth millions. The next day, he took her shopping and bought her an entire collection of the season's limited-edition items. The day after, he somehow got his hands on a pink Rolls-Royce Cullinan, parking it dramatically at the entrance of Eterna Haven in the city center as a grand gesture of love. This display led to a wave of online ridicule, with netizens mocking Andres' for being wrapped around his wife’s finger. Andres posted a self-deprecating tweet with a picture of himself kneeling on a keyboard. [I made my wife mad. How do I fix this if nothing works?] Only then did people realize Andres' predicament, with many pleading for Camellia to forgive him. With two days left until Camellia's birthday, she still had things to take care of. Seeing Andres' desperate efforts, she decided to go along with it and let the matter drop. Andres was overjoyed, lifting her in his arms and spinning her around several times. "Baby, I love you more than anything in this life! You’re my only love!" On the way to dinner, Andres received several phone calls. The number flashing on the screen was one Camellia knew well—Valentina's. He declined the calls four times before finally receiving a message. When he opened it, a single glance made his expression falter. "Baby, my agent says there's an issue with the new painting contract. I need to handle it right away," Andres said apologetically. Camellia did not call out his lie and let him leave. She then bought a baseball cap and mask from a roadside shop and hailed a car to follow him. She trailed him into a mall and all the way to her once-favorite bridal boutique. The dressing room curtain opened, and there stood Valentina, radiant in the wedding dress Camellia had loved most. "Do I look beautiful, Andres?" Valentina asked. She reached out, her hand sliding from Andres' shoulder, tracing his Adam's apple, and stopping just shy of his lips in a teasing caress. Andres' eyes darkened. He cupped her face and kissed her deeply. Both of them were breathless by the time they pulled apart. Valentina curled into Andres' chest, tracing lazy circles on it with her finger. "Andres, if Cam finds out I wore this dress first, she'll probably lose it," she murmured. Andres' breathing grew heavier as he pulled her into the dressing room and drew the curtain shut. "She won't know. I owe you a wedding, and it's my fault you've been wronged," he replied. "Today, you're my most beautiful bride." With those words, the sound of running water filled the dressing room, accompanied by intimate whispers. Chapter 5 Camellia stood in a distant corner, watching through the gap in the dressing room curtains as Valentina and Andres’ entwined figures moved. Her heart twisted in unbearable pain. Her stomach churned violently, and she could not suppress the urge to dry heave. Her entire body was now convulsing uncontrollably. Tears streamed down her face, draining all her strength. She collapsed onto the floor, feeling utterly spent. As she turned to leave, she did not get to see the satisfied smile on Valentina's face inside the dressing room. Back home, the oppressive silence was suffocating. Camellia turned on the television, flipping to a random channel. It was broadcasting a segment on Andres' latest art exhibition. The painting featured a girl in a bright yellow dress running freely through a field. The commentators remarked on how drastically different this piece was from Andres' earlier works. It no longer exuded a soft, reserved gentleness but instead brimmed with vitality and energy. Though the girl's face was not visible, her back displayed the painter's tenderness and love for her. One critic observed sharply, "Even the strands of her flying hair are perfect, like the wind itself favors her." Online, viewers joked about Andres' newfound spark, saying his marriage with Camellia must have entered a second spring. Only Camellia knew the truth. That was not her. It was Valentina, or perhaps it was Nelina Dawson, the woman from his dreams. Taking a deep breath, she tried to suppress the ache in her chest and called her best friend, Penelope Hall. While waiting for Penelope's arrival, Camellia began sorting through the gifts Andres had given her over the years. In the first year of their marriage, he noticed her concerns and gave her a diamond bangle. "I've locked you in for this lifetime. You belong to me now, so don't even think about leaving," he had said. In their second year, he noticed how much she missed her mother and folded her a jar of wishing stars. "When you miss your mom, open one. No matter where I am or what time it is, I'll come back to make your wish come true. This life might be long, but I'll always be here with you." Camellia began unwrapping the stars one by one. [Plant a little tree.] [Adopt a corgi.] [Grow old together.] … She picked up her phone, snapped a picture of one of the stars, and sent it to Andres. Her phone screen remained dark. There was no response from him. Half an hour later, a package arrived. It was the painting Valentina had made for them that day. However, instead of depicting the two of them sitting side by side, the image showed two entangled figures of Andres and Valentina in bed. Something cold slid down Camellia's cheek. She raised her hand to wipe it away and realized her face was already soaked with tears. In a daze, she placed the painting with all of Andres' other works in the studio. Then, she gathered every gift he had ever given her into a box, carried it into the yard, and set it ablaze. Later, Penelope would recall the moment she saw Camellia that day. She felt as if Camellia was on the verge of breaking into pieces. Penelope walked over and held her close without saying a word, letting Camellia lean on her silently. After a long while, once Camellia calmed down, she made another request. "Help me arrange a funeral. But Andres must not attend it. Only then, reveal the truth about my 'death' to him." Camellia handed Penelope an envelope containing evidence of Valentina's relentless provocations over the past few months. Penelope glanced through it and nodded firmly while suppressing her anger. Once everything was set, it was already late at night. That day, Andres quietly slipped into the house at 2 a.m. Seeing Camellia still awake did not surprise him. He approached her like a child with a prize, his eyes brimming with excitement. "I knew you'd still be up. I was too busy earlier to check my messages, but look—I'm here to make your wish come true!" He moved the small tea table by the window to the bed, fetched two bowls, and divided the seafood boil he had brought home into portions. The wish on the paper star Camellia had sent to Andres earlier in the day was to eat her favorite food with him. For some reason, Camellia's mind wandered back to the first time they went to that seafood restaurant together. It might have been Andres' first time eating at a small roadside restaurant. Before eating, he had wiped the oily table repeatedly with napkins and was clearly uncomfortable. However, he smiled at her with mock innocence when she looked his way, almost playfully. "Cam, feed me," he had said. "I'll try anything if it makes you happy." "Andres." Camellia fixed her gaze on his face. "If you could do it all over again, would you still choose this?" Andres did not think much of her question and assumed she was feeling insecure again. He gently stroked her dark hair and answered with certainty. "I would. I'd make the same choices every time. "I'd love you, spoil you, and stay devoted to you for the rest of my life." Chapter 6 The following day, Andres did not leave the house early like he usually did. He squeezed toothpaste onto Camellia's toothbrush and stood by, watching as she finished washing her face. "It's extremely windy today. We can't let it ruin my baby's delicate little face," he said with playful affection. Then, he told her he had a big surprise planned for the next day with an air of mystery. Before he could finish explaining, Cohen Palmer called a few times, saying there was an issue he could not resolve and needed Andres to come immediately. Andres gave Camellia an apologetic glance, and when she reassured him that she understood, he left. Once he was gone, Camellia contacted the team she had hired to confirm every detail for the next day. Then, she drove to Eterna Haven. She had not visited in several days, and everything felt unfamiliar. She called the Saltsburg Museum, and the curator arrived in person an hour later. "Cam, are you sure you want to donate all of this to the country for free?" The curator, Felix Cross, was a fellow apprentice of her mentor. Camellia nodded without hesitation. "You can tell me if you're facing any difficulties. Don't try to handle it all on your own," he said with concern. Camellia remained silent, her gaze fixed on the goddess statue in the center of the room. With its head bowed and its elegant, serene posture, the statue seemed to smile compassionately. Covered in moss and denied the light of day, it exuded a quiet sorrow toward the world. Camellia was leaving, but these artifacts should not be buried with her. "It's nothing, Felix. Don't worry about me," she said softly. Seeing her unwillingness to elaborate, Felix did not press further. After instructing his assistants to carefully transport the artifacts, he patted her shoulder before leaving. "Take care of yourself," he said as he departed. Once again, she was alone. The once vibrant Eterna Haven now felt hollow and empty. Her phone buzzed with a notification. It was about Valentina's online book signing event for her new illustration collection. The clickbaity title read: [The Beautiful Artist Who Once Had a Miscarriage for Love.] Camellia's fingers moved almost involuntarily to click on the link. The video cut to Valentina showing a scar on her abdomen. "Back then, he said I was too young, and the pregnancy was on the risky side. Out of concern for me, he stayed by my side for the procedure," Valentina said with a blissful expression. "It must have been about three years ago when he went to Faren to further his studies… "He even picked out a name for our lost baby—Cale. He said he hoped she'd return to us one day and live a life full of brilliance and light…" Camellia's phone slipped from her grasp, crashing to the floor. The screen shattered, forming a spider web of cracks. Cale? That was the nickname Andres had given their child after their first night together. He had held her tenderly afterward, murmuring the name as if it were a promise. Him and Valentina… had a child… Not to mention that it was three years ago. It had not just been going on for the past three months. Andres had lied to her for three entire years. Suddenly, Valentina was pulled into the frame as someone's arm draped around her shoulders. The sound of kissing filled the audio feed. When she reappeared on screen, her lips were swollen, and her cheeks were flushed pink. She giggled, saying her boyfriend was jealous and insisted they should ‘work harder’ to bring Cale back soon. Her fans erupted in excitement, flooding the chat with playful teasing, though their blessings were genuine. The illustration book sold well, as though it was part of their celebratory gift. Camellia did not know when the signing event ended. The last rays of sunlight disappeared from the room, leaving behind a suffocating darkness. It felt like a giant beast was ready to devour her. She simply sat motionless in her chair with the lights off. Suddenly, her phone screen lit up and became blindingly bright. It was a video message from Valentina, accompanied by a single line. "I told you I'd have you under my feet one day." The video showed two intertwined, bare legs. Camellia was about to delete it when something caught her eye—the rosary beads she had once given Andres. She had it blessed for him, but now they were wrapped around Valentina's ankle. The beads that were slightly large for her looped around her ankle twice. The excess length dangled, with a few beads pressed under Valentina's toe. "They're just rosary beads. If you want them, they're yours," Andres' voice in the video sounded indifferent and dismissive. Camellia's mind flashed back to the day Andres received the beads. "Cam, I'll always keep these with me, even in death," he had promised. The color drained from Camellia's face. She wanted to cry and let out all the pain, but no tears came. The light in her eyes had faded completely. Late at night, as the world slept, no one noticed when Eterna Haven went up in roaring flames. Andres was up early the next morning, preparing for the day. He had just arrived at Quaint Hotel and finished tidying up when Cohen burst in, pale and clutching at his phone. "Andres! Something terrible has happened!" Before Cohen could continue, Andres' phone rang. He held up a finger to silence him and answered the call. As he listened, his gaze shifted to Cohen's phone, where an image stopped him cold. The once-familiar pink Cullinan was now charred black, surrounded by the smoldering remains of Eterna Haven. Smoke billowed from the scene, and a stretcher held a body covered by a white sheet nearby. The voice on the phone interrupted his thoughts. "Hello, is this Mr. Andres Gardner? This is the Saltsburg Police Department. We regret to inform you of a tragic incident. "The property under your wife's name, Eterna Haven, caught fire last night. Unfortunately, your wife did not survive. Our condolences." | LEARN_MORE | https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 374 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | www.qknymufd.com | VIDEO | https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18306&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/477725550_1602232093782611_5566510713768491241_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ZrET2LejDBMQ7kNvgGEQ0Yq&_nc_oc=Adi0Bfzny65gr2VigNQos3fT4yMyXwmoUQo9Wjjh-QKO8xc5Q5wsiPz5HyvAQe8q0CsBRp5V46OaaF-2cEAtzx0H&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AV4c8Effqfo6gQJCljnD1e2&oh=00_AYC8R0XwfhvMZrgoUwImLcVh5JV1Oz4Bj_jba0mKjJdHyQ&oe=67CB89AC | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2025-03-03 09:54 | active | 2763 | 0 | 🔞Attention! Do not read in public!👉 | "Where is she?" I hear the Beta scream. I groan and rise to my feet, grabbing the cleaning basket before heading over. The moment Beta Kyle sees me, he strides towards me and his hand slices against my cheek. I don't make a sound. Years of experience has taught me to keep my mouth shut at all times. "Alpha Trey and I are expecting company and you still have not cleaned the office." Beta Kyle spits at me. I nod my head and my hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If only I could find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make my day. But I didn't need another week locked up with no food. My stomach already hurt enough. "We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Don't you understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!" I don't answer, It's a trap, a ploy to provoke me into saying something that would justify punishment. I keep my eyes lowered, avoiding his gaze. Alpha Dane, I had only ever heard rumours about him. He was a ruthless man, a Wolf feared by others. He didn't mess around and he had the largest pack. "He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!" We had never been attacked and we had never attacked anyone, so why did we need another pack to help us? He grabs my shoulders, his nails digging into my skin as he turns me around and kicks me into the office. "Useless Wolf." He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean against it, observing the already clean office. It looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing my eyes, I slide down to the floor. I hated this house. I thought that when I turned eighteen, I could finally escape, but four years later, here I still am, a slave in my own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for my brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While my ex mate, Beta Kyle waltzes around reminding me of how worthless I am. Someone clears their throat and I freeze, I thought I was alone. Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair, just around the corner. A foot propped up on his knee as he nurses a glass of alcohol. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don't quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. "Is this the way you greet all Alphas?" His deep voice rumbles through the room, there was an edge of amusement to his tone. "I'm sorry." I whisper, getting to my feet. "I...I thought I was alone." I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. "Come forward." He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey wil kill me. I step around the corner, doing as I'm told, allowing him to see me properly. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. "You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?" I nod, though I couldn't tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. "I would prefer it if you spoke to me." He growls, "I'm not in the mood to play games." "Yes." I whisper. I couldn't help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? "Why do you smell strange? And how is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me." "I..." I hated the question. "You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. It's rude to not look at them. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?" His deep voice sends a shiver through me. Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them, there was no way I was making eye contact."My Wolf abilities were bound," I mutter. Twice, I wanted to add. Twice my abilities were bound. But he probably wasn't interested in that part. He leans forward, I could feel him staring at me, "Why would someone do that?" If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. "It was a punishment." I whisper. It wasn't far from the entire truth. There's a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn't tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me "Neah, what are you doing in my office?" He turns to the crimson eyed man. "I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it's him. My brother spins around, hand poised to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He is taller than my brother, more muscly too. "Neah," My name rolls off of his tongue, "was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested." What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. "Go and get Beta Kyle." Alpha Trey seethes. "Tell him our guest is here." I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. "Beta Kyle," I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. "Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you." He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. "You're lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't see sunlight for a few days." Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn't speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn't last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. "Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating." I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. "Neah is your sister, correct?" Alpha Dane questions my brother. "She is." Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. "Why do you treat her like trash?" Straight to the point, my brother wouldn't like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. "Neah was responsible for our parents' death." Alpha Trey spits I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Responsible how?" Alpha Dane's voice rumbles through me. He was definitely angry. "She served them Wolfsbane." Don't make a sound. Don't make a sound. I knew Alpha Dane was studying me. They all did, no one could ever quite believe how someone could do something so disgusting as poisoning their own parents. I stood there, with my head hanging low, wishing for the ground to open up and suck me in. There are movements around me. He was standing directly in front of me. With a rough finger he tilts my face up towards his, forcing me to look at him. "You poisoned your parents?" "I was six." I splutter. "I just made them lemonade." My voice comes out all squeaky as I try to defend myself. I could barely remember my parents, but I could remember all the guilt I had been made to feel since that day. His crimson eyes flash to my brothers. "Hardly seems fair to blame a six year old." "A six year old should know the difference between plants." Alpha Trey snaps "Sounds to me like she was set up." Alpha Dane shrugs his shoulders, letting go of me. "You weren't there, Alpha Dane." My brother muttered through gritted teeth as his eyes narrowed to slits. "I didn't ask you here to talk about my slave!" Alpha Dane grabs his leather jacket from the chair. Unlike other Alpha's he seemed to dress more casually. A simple black tee and jeans covered his huge frame. And unlike other Alpha's, his arms are bare of tattoos, not a single bit of ink poked out anywhere. "You're right and now I have a few things to mull over." "I thought we agreed." My brother exclaims "Nothing has been signed. Now I will show myself out." The moment he is out of the office, both my brother and Beta Kyle round on me. "What the heck did you say to him?" My brother demands, slamming a hand into my stomach. "N...nothing. Well, he just asked me why I smelled funny." "Did you tell him?" Beta Kyle demands. He was practically spitting in my face. I hated him. I hated him so much that I had vowed to one day get my revenge and rip his stomach out through his mouth. "WELL?" My brother yells when I don't immediately respond and smacks me across the side of the head. My head involuntarily moves up and down. "But I didn't say it was you." I tried to sound strong and confident but it just comes out as a whisper. My brother's hand locks into my black hair as he yanks my head back, sending a shooting pain through my skull. "If you have ruined this, you won't see daylight again." He drags me by my hair from the office and down the hallway towards the basement door. "Please…." I beg. "He was an Alpha…I… I had to answer him." My cheeks burn with my tears as he flings the door open. On the other side of the door is Alpha Dane. He is leaning against the wall with his arms folded, staring out at us. My brother's hand falls from my hair, relieving the pressure on the back of my skull... "Alpha Dane, I thought you had left." Alpha Trey murmurs angrily. "I said I would show myself out. I thought I had found the door, but instead I find a basement, riddled in your sister's strange scent. Is this how you treat your family?" "As I said," my brother holds his ground, "She is responsible for the death of my parents, so yes, this is what she deserves." "You should keep your nose out of other packs' business!" Beta Kyle adds. Alpha Dane laughs. "If I agree to this deal, everything about your business becomes my business. So tell me, what would your punishment be for her? No food, locked away for a week, beatings?" Both Alpha Trey and Beta Kyle hold their tongues. There was no reason for him to defend me and yet he was. I was a nobody, no one special. Just who everyone called a traitor. Only instead of being given a death sentence, my brother had decided to make me spend my life suffering. I see those crimson eyes land on my swollen face. "I have a proposition for you, Alpha Trey." Alpha Dane speaks up again. "We have already agreed on terms." "Well, I'm adding one. And if you don't agree, you will not get my help. Instead, you will become my enemy. And we both know, you don't want that." "I take it that your new terms have something to do with her?" Alpha Trey mutters through clenched teeth. "You would be correct. Let me take her away to my pack and then you, Trey will have a deal." Me? Why would he want me? As my brother and his Beta discuss me, Alpha Dane is still studying me. His look made me nervous. What could someone like him possibly want with me? "Deal." Alpha Trey sticks out his hand for Alpha Dane to shake. He doesn't take it, instead his crimson eyes shift from me to my brother. "I will have paperwork drawn up and will return tomorrow." He reaches a hand out and cups my face, "Ensure you have everything packed." He drags his thumb across my bottom lip and strides to the opposite end of the hallway and straight to the front door. He knew exactly where the front door was, so what was he up to? He pauses at the door. "If I find out any one of you has laid a hand on her. The contract will be the last thing you need to worry about." He struts out, slamming the door behind him. After Dane leaves, my brother grabs me by the collar. "You think you're going to have a good life if you follow Alpha Dane out of here? Don't be naive!" He continues in a vicious voice. "He's the coldest man in the world, he's killed nine of his mates, I'm waiting to see what happens to you!" | LEARN_MORE | https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783& | New world publications | https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/ | 3,809 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | wwwedb.com | VIDEO | At six years old, I accidentally killed my parents. For the punishment I, an alpha female, became a slave in my own house.. My wolf's abilities were bounded, twice—a crippling blow that left me vulnerable. As if I were nothing more than property, my brother sold me to a ruthless alpha as part of some clan contract. The rumour I've heard about him that nine fiancee has been killed by him. Then, I discovered that this ruthless alpha, the one who now owned me, was my mate ... | https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480259076_669892195372129_6840602470429612260_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=QIqdNj5iXCYQ7kNvgHQX4Ai&_nc_oc=AdgSZIVg5C5-28_gV_fRMu--d5tLIAy9k0tRy8CM9khw_6WRsrCNNrTCtUCL30UAilgG0k4ebKBK3N94AebDVaEs&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoG7R3o-jeq_XIKtVjbWDES&oh=00_AYAvoYoJiA2wGxzVISxJzTthggZPVgYdOxU4SxUXzZ9sHw&oe=67CB8801 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | New world publications | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-03-03 09:54 | active | 2763 | 0 | 🔞Attention! Do not read in public!👉 | As the daughter of Alpha, I was tortured since I was 6 years old, and more tragically, I was forced to marry the demon Alpha who killed his 9 ex-girlfriends... Neah "Where is she?" I hear the Beta scream. I groan and rise to my feet, grabbing the cleaning basket before heading over. The moment Beta Kyle sees me, he strides towards me and his hand slices against my cheek. I don't make a sound. Years of experience has taught me to keep my mouth shut at all times. "Alpha Trey and I are expecting company and you still have not cleaned the office." Beta Kyle spits at me. I nod my head and my hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If only I could find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make my day. But I didn't need another week locked up with no food. My stomach already hurt enough. "We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Don't you understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!" I don't answer, It's a trap, a ploy to provoke me into saying something that would justify punishment. I keep my eyes lowered, avoiding his gaze. Alpha Dane, I had only ever heard rumours about him. He was a ruthless man, a Wolf feared by others. He didn't mess around and he had the largest pack. "He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!" We had never been attacked and we had never attacked anyone, so why did we need another pack to help us? He grabs my shoulders, his nails digging into my skin as he turns me around and kicks me into the office. "Useless Wolf." He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean against it, observing the already clean office. It looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing my eyes, I slide down to the floor. I hated this house. I thought that when I turned eighteen, I could finally escape, but four years later, here I still am, a slave in my own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for my brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While my ex mate, Beta Kyle waltzes around reminding me of how worthless I am. Someone clears their throat and I freeze, I thought I was alone. Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair, just around the corner. A foot propped up on his knee as he nurses a glass of alcohol. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don't quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. "Is this the way you greet all Alphas?" His deep voice rumbles through the room, there was an edge of amusement to his tone. "I'm sorry." I whisper, getting to my feet. "I...I thought I was alone." I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. "Come forward." He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey wil kill me. I step around the corner, doing as I'm told, allowing him to see me properly. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. "You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?" I nod, though I couldn't tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. "I would prefer it if you spoke to me." He growls, "I'm not in the mood to play games." "Yes." I whisper. I couldn't help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? "Why do you smell strange? And how is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me." "I..." I hated the question. "You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. It's rude to not look at them. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?" His deep voice sends a shiver through me. Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them, there was no way I was making eye contact."My Wolf abilities were bound," I mutter. Twice, I wanted to add. Twice my abilities were bound. But he probably wasn't interested in that part. He leans forward, I could feel him staring at me, "Why would someone do that?" If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. "It was a punishment." I whisper. It wasn't far from the entire truth. There's a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn't tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me "Neah, what are you doing in my office?" He turns to the crimson eyed man. "I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it's him. My brother spins around, hand poised to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He is taller than my brother, more muscly too. "Neah," My name rolls off of his tongue, "was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested." What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. "Go and get Beta Kyle." Alpha Trey seethes. "Tell him our guest is here." I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. "Beta Kyle," I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. "Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you." He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. "You're lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't see sunlight for a few days." Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn't speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn't last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. "Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating." I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. "Neah is your sister, correct?" Alpha Dane questions my brother. "She is." Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. "Why do you treat her like trash?" Straight to the point, my brother wouldn't like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. "Neah was responsible for our parents' death." Alpha Trey spits I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Responsible how?" Alpha Dane's voice rumbles through me. He was definitely angry. "She served them Wolfsbane." Don't make a sound. Don't make a sound. I knew Alpha Dane was studying me. They all did, no one could ever quite believe how someone could do something so disgusting as poisoning their own parents. I stood there, with my head hanging low, wishing for the ground to open up and suck me in. There are movements around me. He was standing directly in front of me. With a rough finger he tilts my face up towards his, forcing me to look at him. "You poisoned your parents?" "I was six." I splutter. "I just made them lemonade." My voice comes out all squeaky as I try to defend myself. I could barely remember my parents, but I could remember all the guilt I had been made to feel since that day. His crimson eyes flash to my brothers. "Hardly seems fair to blame a six year old." "A six year old should know the difference between plants." Alpha Trey snaps "Sounds to me like she was set up." Alpha Dane shrugs his shoulders, letting go of me. "You weren't there, Alpha Dane." My brother muttered through gritted teeth as his eyes narrowed to slits. "I didn't ask you here to talk about my slave!" Alpha Dane grabs his leather jacket from the chair. Unlike other Alpha's he seemed to dress more casually. A simple black tee and jeans covered his huge frame. And unlike other Alpha's, his arms are bare of tattoos, not a single bit of ink poked out anywhere. "You're right and now I have a few things to mull over." "I thought we agreed." My brother exclaims "Nothing has been signed. Now I will show myself out." The moment he is out of the office, both my brother and Beta Kyle round on me. "What the heck did you say to him?" My brother demands, slamming a hand into my stomach. "N...nothing. Well, he just asked me why I smelled funny." "Did you tell him?" Beta Kyle demands. He was practically spitting in my face. I hated him. I hated him so much that I had vowed to one day get my revenge and rip his stomach out through his mouth. "WELL?" My brother yells when I don't immediately respond and smacks me across the side of the head. My head involuntarily moves up and down. "But I didn't say it was you." I tried to sound strong and confident but it just comes out as a whisper. My brother's hand locks into my black hair as he yanks my head back, sending a shooting pain through my skull. "If you have ruined this, you won't see daylight again." He drags me by my hair from the office and down the hallway towards the basement door. "Please…." I beg. "He was an Alpha…I… I had to answer him." My cheeks burn with my tears as he flings the door open. On the other side of the door is Alpha Dane. He is leaning against the wall with his arms folded, staring out at us. My brother's hand falls from my hair, relieving the pressure on the back of my skull... "Alpha Dane, I thought you had left." Alpha Trey murmurs angrily. "I said I would show myself out. I thought I had found the door, but instead I find a basement, riddled in your sister's strange scent. Is this how you treat your family?" "As I said," my brother holds his ground, "She is responsible for the death of my parents, so yes, this is what she deserves." "You should keep your nose out of other packs' business!" Beta Kyle adds. Alpha Dane laughs. "If I agree to this deal, everything about your business becomes my business. So tell me, what would your punishment be for her? No food, locked away for a week, beatings?" Both Alpha Trey and Beta Kyle hold their tongues. There was no reason for him to defend me and yet he was. I was a nobody, no one special. Just who everyone called a traitor. Only instead of being given a death sentence, my brother had decided to make me spend my life suffering. I see those crimson eyes land on my swollen face. "I have a proposition for you, Alpha Trey." Alpha Dane speaks up again. "We have already agreed on terms." "Well, I'm adding one. And if you don't agree, you will not get my help. Instead, you will become my enemy. And we both know, you don't want that." "I take it that your new terms have something to do with her?" Alpha Trey mutters through clenched teeth. "You would be correct. Let me take her away to my pack and then you, Trey will have a deal." Me? Why would he want me? As my brother and his Beta discuss me, Alpha Dane is still studying me. His look made me nervous. What could someone like him possibly want with me? "Deal." Alpha Trey sticks out his hand for Alpha Dane to shake. He doesn't take it, instead his crimson eyes shift from me to my brother. "I will have paperwork drawn up and will return tomorrow." He reaches a hand out and cups my face, "Ensure you have everything packed." He drags his thumb across my bottom lip and strides to the opposite end of the hallway and straight to the front door. He knew exactly where the front door was, so what was he up to? He pauses at the door. "If I find out any one of you has laid a hand on her. The contract will be the last thing you need to worry about." He struts out, slamming the door behind him. After Dane leaves, my brother grabs me by the collar. "You think you're going to have a good life if you follow Alpha Dane out of here? Don't be naive!" He continues in a vicious voice. "He's the coldest man in the world, he's killed nine of his mates, I'm waiting to see what happens to you!" | LEARN_MORE | https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783& | New world publications | https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/ | 3,809 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | wwwedb.com | VIDEO | https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474535251_634982888958063_2000855136925718630_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=3-mou3aUVlYQ7kNvgGK9J1J&_nc_oc=Adj6m7N5vadS75r7qe0ZOHZdBE0ii2kAIqIsrtDXjfHIpFSfNlqnsIijilCR3zRPIG_UMrWGirJ5g_Rc8r8smjPl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AUXT3qfSWubO1vT1UceGvrF&oh=00_AYDqjTxQdTEYxamhysJKQD5v2k3Pg3AzP4kKWcHFBtiGIA&oe=67CB9AA8 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | New world publications | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2025-03-03 09:54 | active | 2763 | 0 | ❤😍check out 👉The Alpha’s Contract, and dive into a world full of wolves, drama, and epic twists. 🔥 | "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/ | 3,809 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | wwwedb.com | VIDEO | At six years old, I accidentally killed my parents. For the punishment I, an alpha female, became a slave in my own house.. My wolf's abilities were bounded, twice—a crippling blow that left me vulnerable. As if I were nothing more than property, my brother sold me to a ruthless alpha as part of some clan contract. The rumour I've heard about him that nine fiancee has been killed by him. Then, I discovered that this ruthless alpha, the one who now owned me, was my mate ... | https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480759216_934722458854823_5179505591465761602_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=FGlk4tte2uYQ7kNvgEHjY95&_nc_oc=AdiV-1DEF-Nff41qyizZQauyVi6fUgAXrk0Y5f4rkvMZqXANPsfpTYHSQ5FYxe2Hosk68HRmBfCYG438G-d_jLOP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AV4c8Effqfo6gQJCljnD1e2&oh=00_AYB3ulblgHu76hRNcxzhjwyhGcxV_aoHKKGYcdBp6z7O1g&oe=67CBAFED | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | New world publications | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-03-03 09:54 | active | 2763 | 0 | ❤😍check out 👉The Alpha’s Contract, and dive into a world full of wolves, drama, and epic twists. 🔥 | "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/ | 3,809 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | wwwedb.com | VIDEO | At six years old, I accidentally killed my parents. For the punishment I, an alpha female, became a slave in my own house.. My wolf's abilities were bounded, twice—a crippling blow that left me vulnerable. As if I were nothing more than property, my brother sold me to a ruthless alpha as part of some clan contract. The rumour I've heard about him that nine fiancee has been killed by him. Then, I discovered that this ruthless alpha, the one who now owned me, was my mate ... | https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480868370_989339705921473_7147595038058864494_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=-SU6-g9lSiAQ7kNvgEXJAa9&_nc_oc=Adg2eDfhrNRfOU3jJNlLMlEqA98HH_11dOvkgGcGI-rcJbSyi2V-_eX5nOFNjeTjPbx5Vg3jN8Koxg7HxyPr0Z3D&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A-i43AXYCkh1-niji6lK3eE&oh=00_AYDuMEgVTUaUzKE6s-k21AyLqv8y9ikcco3F3m_2w-YpMg&oe=67CB9065 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | New world publications | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Read next chapter | An accident led her to marry the man she secretly loved. When he woke from his coma, he used her as a blood supply for his first love, even sending her to prison on false accusations, keeping her from seeing her grandmother one last time. Heartbroken, she demanded a divorce. ===== "It's been ages since we've had a moment like this..." Shane Brooks' l*ps brushed lightly against Yvonne Burton's ear. "Shane, I need to go to the hospital now..." Yvonne turned her head away, avoiding the ki*s Shane tried to steal. "Just this once!" Shane insisted. Time seemed to stretch endlessly. It wasn't until Yvonne felt the world around her spinning, faintness threatening to take over, that Shane finally let her go. "Did I hurt you?" His voice, rich and deep, carried a blend of concern and teasing. "How about I make it up to you with the latest designer bag?" Yvonne's eyelids fluttered open, her gaze locking onto him. The man before her was breathtakingly handsome, with features so refined they could have been sculpted by an artist. His usual cool and distant demeanor was still there, though now tinged with a faint, lingering pa*sion--proof of their recent intimacy. After three years of marriage, Yvonne had come to recognize this look. It was his tell, a sign that he was satisfied. That was why he was being so generous to her. Yvonne's lips curved into a bitter smile. "Did you forget? I haven't completed my sentence." "Then you can use the bag when you're out," Shane replied casually as if discussing the weather. Yvonne's chest tightened painfully. Shane had said it so nonchalantly, as though serving time was just a mundane inconvenience. "You will be released from prison soon, right?" His fingers trailed along her cheek with practiced ease. "I told you before, one year would fly by in the blink of an eye." Yvonne swallowed the lump in her throat, her hand clutching his as desperation seeped into her voice. "The hospital called me... They said my grandmother wasn't doing well. Could you come with me to the hospital to visit her?" Since she was still serving her sentence, she couldn't leave here freely. But she had earned a day of temporary release due to her good behavior in prison. Initially, her plan had been to go straight to the hospital. Yet, she had hesitated, worried her frail grandmother, Maggie Thomas, might be unsettled by her disheveled appearance. Returning home to freshen up had seemed like the right choice, but unexpectedly, she had run into Shane at home, who had just gotten back from a business trip overseas. She had really wanted to rush to the hospital, yet Shane had stopped her. He had been adamant, demanding his needs be met first, leaving her spending the entire morning here. Still, she thought, maybe this was good. If Shane accompanied her to the hospital, it would make her grandmother happy. But the next second, Shane pulled his hand away. Yvonne's heart sank like a stone tossed into deep water. "I've got something to do this afternoon. You can go on your own." Shane's words came out without hesitation. Standing up, he retrieved a card from the bedside drawer and held it out. "Use this to buy something nice for your grandmother." This wasn't unexpected for Yvonne--she had seen this play out before. Shane's preferred method of problem-solving always involved money. But she knew Maggie didn't need fancy gifts. What Maggie needed, what she longed for, was to see Shane and her being happy together as a family. Shane showered, got dressed, and left without so much as a goodbye. Yvonne rose slowly. She then busied herself with packing some homemade food to bring to the hospital--something Maggie would appreciate more than any store-bought gift. When she entered Maggie's hospital room, the sight before her made her bl**d run cold. The bag with the food slipped from her fingers, hitting the floor as she cried out, "Grandma!" Though Maggie had endured numerous hospital stays throughout her illness, she had never needed to use a ventilator. This really shocked Yvonne. Yvonne rushed to Maggie's bedside, her voice quavering with worry. "Grandma, I'm here! Open your eyes and look at me, Grandma!" Maggie's weathered eyelids fluttered open, a dim spark of recognition lighting her aged eyes. "Yvonne, you're here..." "Grandma, what happened?" Yvonne's words tumbled out in a panic. "The nurse said you were just feeling a bit unwell and missed me. Why does your condition look so severe?" "I asked the nurse not to worry you too much. Yvonne, I think I don't have much time left," Maggie replied. "No! That's not true!" Yvonne's trembling hand flew to Maggie's face. She then assessed Maggie's condition. Soon, her fears were confirmed--Maggie indeed had not much time left. Tears carved burning paths down Yvonne's cheeks as sadness threatened to tear her heart asunder. "Yvonne, life and death walk hand in hand. Don't cry." Maggie's papery fingers brushed Yvonne's wet cheek. "Having such a great granddaughter, I am satisfied with my life. I am just concerned about how you will live your life after I am gone." "Grandma, please stay with me!" Yvonne hastily scrubbed away her tears, forcing brightness into her voice. "I'll be out of prison in a month. Then I'll never leave your side. Remember how you longed to return to our hometown? Once you recover, we'll go back together." "That would be lovely." Maggie's gaze held infinite tenderness. "Bring Shane along, too." Though her heart knew otherwise, Yvonne nodded fervently. "Of course. Shane wanted to be here today, but urgent business matters demanded his attention." "Work always comes first." Maggie withdrew a half-moon pendant from beneath her pi*low, pressing it into Yvonne's palm. The pendant was made of high-quality jade and was carved with a bird. "Yvonne, keep this safe. It's your--" The door's sudden opening cut short Maggie's words. Shane's commanding presence filled the doorway, his dark suit emphasizing his statuesque frame. He looked elegant with every move. Joy illuminated Yvonne's tear-stained face. "Grandma, look! Shane came to see you!" But as Shane approached, there was something amiss about his expression. His customary mask of cool detachment had cracked; he looked uncharacteristically anxious and worried. "Yvonne, Jayde needs an immediate bl**d transfusion." The words stabbed through Yvonne's momentary happiness. She had thought Shane was looking worried because of her grandmother, but it turned out he was just concerned for Jayde Davis. Of course. In Shane's world, no one could eclipse his childhood sweetheart, his eternal flame, Jayde. All others paled in comparison. Yvonne fought to suppress the familiar ache in her chest. "My grandmother lies here, critically ill. I must stay by her side. Can't Jayde use bl**d bank supplies?" she said. "The rare bl**d type isn't available here, and the nearest bank is an hour away. Jayde can't wait that long." Shane's fingers closed around Yvonne's wrist like steel bands. "Yvonne, her life hangs in the balance. You need to come with me now." "I won't leave my grandmother! Let go of me!" Yvonne's struggles proved futile against Shane's strength. "Yvonne..." Maggie's frail voice called out, her hand reaching toward her granddaughter. "I never told you about your parents. The truth is, you..." "Grandma!" Yvonne cried out, but Shane had already dragged her out of the room before she could hear the rest of her grandmother's words. Though protocol limited bl**d donations to 400 milliliters, Shane demanded double that amount from Yvonne. This left Yvonne ghost-white and trembling after the donation. Despite her weakness, she forced herself upright, using the wall for support as she stumbled back to Maggie's hospital room. The sight that greeted her sent her world spinning--the silent ventilator, Maggie's still form covered by a white cloth... Yvonne's legs betrayed her, sending her collapsing to the floor. Grief had stolen even her tears. She crawled forward on trembling limbs until she reached the bedside. "No... Grandma... Don't leave me..." She clutched Maggie's lifeless hand, drowning in waves of desolation. "My condolences, Yvonne." Shane's deep voice cut through her anguish with detachment. "Jayde is stable now. Thank you for your help... By the way, the prison requires your immediate return." Chapter 2 Let's Get A Divorce Yvonne's chest constricted with unbearable pain as she desperately grasped Shane's leg. "Shane, please," she said through trembling lips, "help me appeal to the prison authorities. My grandmother has passed away, and I need to handle her funeral arrangements. I can't go back now." Shane's features hardened into a disapproving frown. "Prison regulations aren't something you can simply circumvent with money. Your grief is understandable, but you need to think rationally before you speak." "Think rationally?" Yvonne gazed up at him, her voice quavering with emotion. "For eleven months, I've been imprisoned, and four times you've arranged my temporary release to donate bl**d for Jayde--all by using your financial influence. Why is this time different?" "The circumstances aren't comparable," Shane replied coldly. "How can you say that?" Raw anguish seeped through Yvonne's voice as she continued her plea. "I understand Jayde holds the highest place in your heart, but my grandmother just passed away. She raised me, yet I couldn't be there in her final moments. I must accompany her on this last journey--I can't bear the thought of her spirit departing alone. Shane, I am begging you; just do this one thing for me." "You still have an uncle, don't you? I'll help and ensure your grandmother receives an honorable funeral," Shane said. "That's not what this is about." Tears coursed down Yvonne's cheeks unchecked. "My grandmother is already gone. A lavish funeral means nothing now. I just want to bid her farewell in person. If you grant me this, I swear I'll donate bl**d for Jayde whenever necessary." Shane's gaze turned glacial as he looked down at her. "Are you treating bl**d donation as some kind of bargaining tool? This is your obligation to Jayde. If not for your actions, she wouldn't be confined to a wheelchair." Yvonne squeezed her eyes shut. She could feel Shane's words piercing her heart. Jayde's incident had happened a year ago. She had tumbled down the stairs, suffering spinal injuries that had left her paralyzed below the waist. She had accused Yvonne of pushing her down the stairs. The Brooks family unanimously condemned Yvonne. Without surveillance footage or witnesses to clear her name, Yvonne stood defenseless against the accusations. Shane, her husband, had delivered the ultimatum: "Yvonne, Jayde's suffering is immeasurable. Legal consequences are necessary considering what you have done to her. Such an assault typically carries three to ten years, but Jayde's compa*sion moves her to request only one." The irony of it all had left Yvonne feeling bitter. She had initially refused to go to prison, demanding police intervention. But Jayde had produced damning evidence--a video showing Yvonne pushing her down the stairs. The collective revulsion in the Brooks family members' eyes as they watched that video still haunted Yvonne. It was as if they felt even breathing the same air as her was repulsive. *** Shane's bodyguards eventually escorted Yvonne back to her prison cell. The combination of severe bl**d loss and overwhelming grief left Yvonne bedridden for two days, her body too weak to rise. On the third day, fate dealt another cruel blow. In the prison's recreation room, the television broadcasted Jayde's extravagant birthday celebration. The media were saying that the Brooks Group's CEO Shane had spared no expense in celebrating Jayde's birthday. The screen captured Jayde in her wheelchair, her natural beauty undimmed by her condition. Shane hovered attentively at her side, his expression radiating tenderness and devotion. Together, they looked really good together, like a match made in heaven. Fresh tears carved silent paths down Yvonne's cheeks as the reality struck her. While her grandmother Maggie was being laid to rest today, Shane--who had promised to assist with the funeral arrangements--was instead orchestrating an elaborate celebration for Jayde. In that moment of crushing clarity, Yvonne finally grasped the bitter truth: Shane's heart held no love for her. No sacrifice she made would ever be enough to change that. Yvonne had a secret, one she had guarded for a decade--her unwavering love for Shane. Shane had once only existed in a realm far beyond her reach, while she remained just another face in the crowd, their paths never meant to intersect. Fate had intervened three years ago through a devastating car accident that had left Shane comatose. The Brooks family had exhausted every medical resource, consulting countless renowned physicians without success. It was Shane's grandmother, Lydia Brooks, who turned to superstitious beliefs. She suggested that marriage might bring the fortune needed to restore Shane's health. Fate had taken another unexpected turn when Jayde, Shane's betrothed, had suddenly been kidnapped. With the wedding date looming, Lydia had desperately searched for another bride with a compatible horoscope. She had then discovered Yvonne, who had been working part-time as a caregiver for the Brooks family at that time. Marrying Shane came with a precious opportunity for Yvonne--Yvonne's ailing grandmother Maggie would receive treatment at the hospital under the Brooks Group. The hospital was one of the top hospitals in Zlamsas. Ordinary people couldn't afford to get treatment there. Yvonne had agreed to the marriage without hesitation, though her heart held a deeper truth. For seven years, she had harbored an unspoken love for Shane, willing to tend to him even if he would never emerge from his coma. A month after the marriage, Shane had miraculously awakened. His fury when he had learned of the marriage for fortune's sake had led to immediate demands for divorce. Yet, these demands had ceased abruptly when he had discovered Yvonne shared Jayde's bl**d type. From that moment forward, Yvonne had become nothing more than Jayde's living bl**d bank. Determined to make Shane happy, Yvonne had shouldered this burden silently. For two years, she had devoted herself to caring for Shane and his family, striving to embody the perfect wife--until Jayde's false accusation had led to her imprisonment. Ten years--she had loved Shane for ten years. She had given Shane her purest love and most selfless devotion, but what did she get in return? Shane only had eyes for Jayde, his heart perpetually closed to her. Perhaps she had been naive to hope Shane might one day even care about her a little bit. *** Rain poured from leaden skies the day of Yvonne's release from prison. No one had come to pick her up. After a lengthy journey on multiple buses, she arrived at Serenity Villa, Shane's residence, her clothes clinging to her because of the rain. The fingerprint lock granted her entry, and she found Shane descending the staircase when she entered, his appearance impeccable in stark contrast to her disheveled state. Surprise flickered across Shane's features when he saw her. "Why are you back?" he asked. Yvonne's fingers trembled as she replied, "I was released today." "Ah, I forgot." Shane paused briefly before her. "Get some rest. I'm heading out now." "Shane," Yvonne suddenly called out. "I need to talk to you about something." Shane glanced impatiently at his watch. "We can talk when I return." As Shane moved past Yvonne, Yvonne grasped his sleeve to stop him. "It won't take long." Shane halted reluctantly, irritation evident in his expression. "Make it quick." Yvonne studied his perfect profile, a slight smile on her face. "Shane, let's get a divorce," she said, her tone resolute. Shane's confusion was palpable as he turned to face her. "You want a divorce because I didn't pick you up from prison?" "This isn't about today." Yvonne's smile didn't waver. "I genuinely want a divorce. We can handle the paperwork when you're free." "Yvonne, I don't have time for your antics right now." Shane's expression darkened as he shook off her hand. "You should take a shower and clear your head. You are not thinking straight." After Shane's departure, Yvonne stood motionless, lost in thought. Shane thought she was not thinking straight. But that was not true. In fact, her mind had never been clearer. *** Upstairs, Yvonne drew a bath and powered on her fully charged phone. A month's worth of WhatsApp messages awaited her--none from Shane. As she absently scrolled through her feed, she suddenly froze upon seeing something. Jayde had just posted something. "True love is shown through enduring companionship." The accompanying photo showed her beaming at the camera while Shane peeled an apple beside her, the perfect picture of devotion. Chapter 3 I Want You Yvonne blinked. So that was why Shane had been in a rush to leave, not even wanting to talk about the divorce with her. He had been eager to go and spend time with Jayde. A familiar ache seized Yvonne's heart, spreading numbness through her chest. Throughout her two-year marriage with Shane, Yvonne had watched as Jayde paraded Shane's affections across social media. Each post had torn at her heart, yet something had kept drawing her back to look at the posts. Now, finally, she had resolved to end this cycle of torment. Her fingers moved swiftly as she deleted both Shane and Jayde from her WhatsApp contacts. After her shower, Yvonne just finished getting dressed when her phone rang. Shane's name blazed across the screen. Wasn't Shane supposed to be spending time with Jayde now? Why was he calling her? Yvonne hesitated for a moment but eventually picked up the call. "Shane?" "Did you delete Jayde on WhatsApp?" Shane asked. "Yes. What's wrong?" Yvonne replied. "You have the nerve to ask that?" Venom dripped from Shane's words. "Jayde wanted to congratulate you on your release but then discovered you had deleted her. She thought you still resented her. She broke down remembering when you had pushed her down the stairs. Yvonne, when will you stop causing trouble?" His sharp words pierced Yvonne's heart, but she maintained her composure. "Shane, deleting her was my freedom," she said. "You are still talking about your freedom?" Shane's voice grew colder. "She's a patient, Yvonne! She is already stuck in a wheelchair because of you. She is now emotionally fragile. The least you could do is show some compa*sion!" Yvonne's lips curled into a bitter smile as she closed her eyes, forcing her tears back. "If she's as fragile as you say, then it's all the more reason for me to keep my distance. God forbid something happens, and I get blamed again." "Yvonne, don't--" Yvonne didn't let Shane finish. The call ended with a sharp click, and she wasted no time blocking his number. After that, she made herself a simple plate of spaghetti and ate quietly, her thoughts heavy. Then, umbrella in hand, she headed to the cemetery. The rain fell in a quiet drizzle, soaking the earth. Yvonne stood before Maggie's tombstone for what felt like an eternity, the weight of her emotions pressing down on her chest. When she returned to Serenity Villa, it was already evening. Just as she entered, she saw Shane sitting on the living room sofa. Yvonne froze for a moment, caught off guard by his presence. Normally, when Shane was with Jayde, he wouldn't come home until late at night, after Jayde was asleep. Not wanting to delve into Shane's unusual behavior, Yvonne ignored him and headed upstairs. "Stop right there." Shane's voice cut through the quiet like a knife. Yvonne halted but didn't turn around. Shane rose from the sofa and walked to stand before Yvonne, his gaze locking onto hers. "You've grown bold, haven't you? Hanging up on me and even blocking my number?" Yvonne said nothing, her body tense as she tried to walk past him. But Shane grabbed her wrist, his grip firm. "I'm talking to you. What's the matter--did prison leave you deaf?" The words stung Yvonne hard, but she met his gaze, her voice trembling with restrained emotion. "Yes, Shane, I've been to prison. My life is already in ruins because of it. Isn't that punishment enough for you?" Shane's brows furrowed as his eyes searched her face. He noticed the puffiness around her eyes, the faint redness. "Have you been crying? Did you go to visit your grandmother's grave?" Yvonne tried hard to hold back her tears. "I wasn't there for her when she needed me the most. Do I need your permission to visit her now?" Shane's expression darkened when he heard that. "Yvonne, the reason I pushed for you to return to prison that day was because I didn't want you to dwell in your grief. It was for your own good." "For my own good?" Yvonne let out a hollow laugh, her bitterness spi*ling over. "Are you even listening to yourself? You can't even lie convincingly anymore, Shane." With a sharp tug, she pulled her wrist free. Her voice was steady now, cold and final. "I'm tired, Shane. Let's just end this. Let's get a divorce." *** Yvonne went to the master bedroom's walk-in closet, dragging out an old suitcase to pack her belongings. She wanted to leave behind everything the Brooks family had given her after the wedding, which left little to take. "Yvonne, stop with your antics!" Shane's exasperated voice cut through the silence. "It was just a year in prison. I made sure you weren't mistreated there. What more do you want?" Yvonne's hands stilled over her clothes as she turned her head to face him. "You certainly ensured I was treated differently. Every meal there was packed with spinach and liver to replenish my bl**d, keeping me ready for the next bl**d transfusion for Jayde." Shane's brow furrowed. "So this circles back to Jayde again. The transfusions saved her life. You work in medicine--you should have some compassion. And I've compensated you generously." "Compassion?" A hollow laugh escaped Yvonne's lips. "Show me one doctor who has bl*d themselves dry for a patient." She gestured toward the wall of luxury handbags--a collection worth hundreds of millions, coveted by countless women. "Is this your idea of compensation? One bag per transfusion. I always get the ones Jayde rejected." Each bag was Jayde's selection, and Shane paid for it. Jayde would claim the ones she preferred, leaving Yvonne with the ostentatious pieces--expensive but impractical for daily use. Yvonne had never requested bags, yet both Shane and Jayde believed exchanging bl**d for luxury bags was a good deal for her. "I won't take a single bag," Yvonne said with a slight smile. "I never agreed to sell my bl**d." Shane massaged his temples. Throughout their marriage, Yvonne had remained compliant--occasionally sulking but never defiant, never speaking to him like this. Shane gripped Yvonne's shoulders, his tone gentling. "I know you're upset after staying in prison for so long. Let's not fight, okay? I asked Zoey to prepare your favorite dishes. Let's go and have a meal together." Yvonne shrugged off his hands, grabbed her suitcase, and moved toward the door. The next second, in one fluid motion, Shane swept Yvonne into his arms. Before Yvonne could resist, she was placed on the soft b*d by Shane. He trapped her hands above her head, his scent surrounding her as he whispered in her ear, "Yvonne, stop being angry, alright? Tonight, I will m*ke l*ve to you until you're satisfied." Yvonne's heart thundered in her chest. Previously, when anger took hold of her, she would always melt under Shane's b*droom tactics, quick to forgive. Shane had found amusement in this pattern. His dominance had always overwhelmed her, pushing her limits until she broke into tears, begging for mercy and agreeing to his every demand. Yvonne shuddered, her body taut as she grasped at her crumbling resolve. Though she struggled against him, Shane seemed determined to draw her into the moment, refusing to release her. Shane muttered, "Yvonne, I want you..." Chapter 4 She Is Pregnant Yvonne fought against the magnetic pull of Shane's touch, forcing herself to bite down hard on her lower lip. The sharp sting anchored her thoughts,she couldn't afford to lose herself in this facade of intimacy anymore, not in a marriage devoid of genuine love. Just then, the shrill ring of a phone pierced the intimate moment. Shane showed no intention of stopping, but the persistent sound quickly disrupted his mood. His eyes darted to the screen, and he let go of Yvonne. The name "Jayde" illuminated the screen, and Yvonne also saw it. History had taught Yvonne the pattern well. Other calls during such moments would be silenced by Shane without hesitation, but Jayde's calls were the exception. Whenever Jayde called Shane, Shane would answer immediately. Shane's voice turned gentle as he answered the call. "I'm at home... She didn't mean anything against you; don't overthink it... Alright, I'll go to see you later..." Yvonne sat up, adjusting her clothes. Her hands trembled as she buttoned her shirt. Shane ended his call and turned to her with an amused smile playing on his lips. "Such haste to dress yourself--are you afraid of what I might do?" Yvonne didn't say anything. "If you want them to stay fastened, join me for dinner downstairs now." Recalling what had just happened, Yvonne acquiesced. Resistance, she had learned, was futile. *** In the dining room, the maid, Zoey Rowe, had already prepared a feast of culinary excellence. "Mrs. Brooks, you have lost so much weight. You need to eat more," Zoey said. Shane's gaze traveled across the table, studying the woman eating before him. Zoey's observation struck a chord--Yvonne's natural slenderness had indeed become more pronounced since her release from prison, her features carrying a new sharpness. Though her beauty remained unchanged, Shane couldn't help but feel like Yvonne had changed somehow. As Zoey transferred a portion of braised beef to Yvonne's plate, the rich aroma triggered an unexpected wave of nausea in Yvonne. She couldn't help but gag. "Mrs. Brooks!" Zoey rushed to pour a glass of water for Yvonne, concern etching her features. "Are you feeling unwell?" "I'm fine." Yvonne regained her composure and rose from her chair. "I'm full now." Shane's appetite vanished as he watched Yvonne leave. Abandoning his meal, he stood up and prepared to leave the house. "Mr. Brooks, you've barely touched your food," Zoey said. "I need to step out." Shane shrugged into his coat, pausing to instruct, "The food in prison is bland--Yvonne's body needs time to readjust. Prepare lighter meals for now." Zoey nodded and replied, "Yes, Mr. Brooks." *** Upstairs, Yvonne had just reached her room when she heard the sound of a car engine from outside. A bitter smile twisted her lips as she contemplated how quickly Shane had abandoned dinner to fulfill his promise to Jayde. It was clear Shane really loved Jayde. Standing beside the floor-to-ceiling window, Yvonne watched Shane's car disappear into the distance. As she closed her weary eyes, a startling realization jolted them open again--she realized she might be carrying a child. The timing left little room for doubt. That day a month ago, Shane had refused to use protection. Shane had always disliked using protection, so she always took medication afterward. She had planned to purchase preventive medication after visiting Maggie in the hospital that day, but grief had consumed her when Maggie passed away unexpectedly. The pi*ls had slipped from her mind entirely. Thoughts whirled through Yvonne's head like autumn leaves in a storm until clarity finally emerged. She hurried out to purchase a pregnancy test, her heart thundering against her ribs. The two clear lines that appeared finally confirmed her suspicions with stark finality. She just hadn't taken the pi*ls one time. She had not expected to get pr*gnant so easily like this. Yvonne's hand drifted to her lower abdomen, her emotions churning like a turbulent sea. The cruel irony of fate struck her like a physical blow--just as she had steeled herself to end her marriage with Shane, she discovered she was carrying his child. Sleep proved elusive that night, Yvonne's thoughts churning until exhaustion finally claimed her. When she woke up, the sky outside was bright. Shane had not come home the entire night, his side of the bed untouched. After Yvonne made her way down for breakfast, Zoey burst into the dining room, barely containing her excitement beneath a veneer of hesitation. "What has made you so excited?" Yvonne asked, studying Zoey's expression. "Did you win the lottery or something?" "Mrs. Brooks, it's you who has made me excited!" Zoey produced a pregnancy test, her eyes sparkling. "I found this while cleaning. You are pr*gnant! This is wonderful news! Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?" Yvonne's silence spoke volumes. "Mrs. Brooks?" Zoey's enthusiasm dimmed. "Aren't you happy about this?" Yvonne stirred her oatmeal slowly. "Zoey, I've already told Shane that I want a divorce." The revelation struck Zoey like lightning. "You want to divorce Mr. Brooks? How could you consider such a thing?" she said. "Why can't I do that?" Yvonne's voice remained steady, masking her inner turmoil. "Haven't you noticed how great Shane and Jayde look together? They are the real loving couple here. I disrupted their relationship, claiming a title that wasn't rightfully mine and forcing them apart." Her lips curved in self-mockery at her foolish dream that Shane might grow to love her one day. Tears welled in Zoey's eyes. "Mrs. Brooks, I know this past year in prison brought you immense suffering. But that chapter has ended. You and Mr. Brooks can build something new together now. Eventually, Mr. Brooks will recognize your worth. Now, with you being pr*gnant, everything could change. Your child deserves a complete family--you can't proceed with the divorce." Yvonne's movements stilled as memories of her own childhood surfaced. Orphaned young, she had been raised by her grandparents. Though her grandparents had given her all the love they could, she had always envied other children who had both their parents. She understood profoundly the importance of giving a child a complete family. "Having children often changes a man's priorities," Zoey said gently. "Fatherhood has a way of grounding men, redirecting their focus to family. For your child's sake, shouldn't Mr. Brooks have a chance to prove himself?" Yvonne nodded slightly. Perhaps Zoey was right--her child deserved a chance at a complete family. If Shane could maintain distance from Jayde, she would bury the past and make her marriage with Shane work. After breakfast, Yvonne took a taxi to the Brooks Group. Few employees knew of her marriage to Shane, so she called Shane's assistant, asking him to escort her to Shane's office. She found Shane engaged in a phone call in his office, his lack of surprise at her appearance suggesting he had grown accustomed to her anger dissipating overnight. The assistant provided Yvonne with a glass of water and then departed. Shane ended his call and looked at Yvonne. "Why didn't you sleep in?" "I've had sufficient sleep." Yvonne pointed at the thermos she had brought. "Zoey asked me to bring the soup to you." "I'll have it later," Shane replied. "Where were you last night, Shane?" Yvonne asked. Shane's response came without hesitation. "Jayde wasn't feeling well and was admitted to the hospital. I stayed with her there." Yvonne's fingers trembled when she heard that. After gathering her courage, she said, "If we had a child, would you spend more time at home?" Shane's brow furrowed. "You want a child now?" "Don't you want a child?" Yvonne asked. Shane lit a cigarette, taking a drag before responding in measured tones, "Yvonne, now is not the right time for us to have a child." Yvonne paused for a moment. "Why?" Shane replied, "Jayde's health has been declining. If you became pr*gnant, you wouldn't be able to donate your bl**d to her." Chapter 5 Leaving With Nothing A glacial chill crept through Yvonne's body, starting at her feet and spreading gradually until numbness claimed every inch of her being. She realized she had been too naive. She had clung to desperate hopes--that she could start a new family with Shane, that Shane might embrace fatherhood as Zoey had suggested, that their unborn child could bridge the growing chasm between Shane and her. But reality had shattered those illusions, revealing a harsh truth: even their child ranked beneath Jayde in Shane's eyes. Yvonne closed her eyes as tears traced silent paths down her cheeks. "I know you don't like Jayde." Shane's patronizing tone cut through the silence. "But her health is genuinely fragile now. Surely you can show some understanding of that." His eyes flickered over Yvonne's tear-stained features as he added, "We can discuss having children once Jayde's health condition improves. There's no need to rush." A bitter smile twisted Yvonne's lips. She knew that if she told Shane now that she was pr*gnant, he would probably drag her to the hospital immediately to terminate the pregnancy. This child represented one of her last remaining familial bonds, and she would never sacrifice it for Jayde's sake. "Of course, I understand that," Yvonne said, brushing away her tears and summoning a weak smile. "Don't let me keep you from your work. I won't bother you any further." She fled Shane's office before he could respond, retreating to Serenity Villa where she hastily packed her belongings, gave Zoey some instructions, and left. Though she had initially planned to seek refuge in a hotel, her uncle's timely call redirected her path to his doorstep. The clock struck ten when Shane returned to Serenity Villa, only to find the master bedroom empty. Yvonne was not there. His attempt to reach Yvonne by phone proved futile, prompting him to go downstairs and summon Zoey. "Where's Yvonne?" he asked Zoey. "Mrs. Brooks has moved out," Zoey replied. "What?" A deep frown etched across Shane's features. "When?" "This morning." Zoey hesitated, the weight of Yvonne's words pressing down on her. Yvonne had told her not to mention anything about her pregnancy to Shane. Otherwise, the baby would be harmed. After a moment, Zoey presented Shane with a document. "Mrs. Brooks left this divorce agreement for you." Shane's eyes swept over the pages, a cold laugh escaping his lips. "Leaving with nothing--she's really something!" "Mr. Brooks appears quite resolute about the decision to divorce," Zoey said. "That's not her choice to make!" Shane yanked at his tie in frustration. "Where has she gone?" "Mrs. Brooks didn't tell me that," Zoey replied. Shane stormed out, barking orders for the driver to ready the car. *** Fresh from her shower in the guest room, Yvonne was about to go to sleep when her phone's ringing pierced the silence. An unknown number flashed across the screen. Yvonne answered the call. "Hello?" "Come downstairs." Shane's familiar, cold voice echoed on the other end of the line. Yvonne's grip on the phone froze for a moment. "I am already in bed." "I will give you ten minutes, Yvonne. If you don't come down in ten minutes, I'll ensure this entire neighborhood gets no sleep tonight," Shane said. The call then disconnected, leaving Yvonne staring at her phone. After a moment's hesitation, she changed and descended the stairs. A black Rolls-Royce was parked outside, with Shane's imposing figure beside it. Maintaining a careful distance, Yvonne spoke with forced composure. "It's late. What do you want?" "You're asking me that? Did you interpret last night's conversation as some kind of joke? You had the audacity to draft divorce papers and vanish?" Shane said. "Get in the car. Come home. We'll forget this ever happened." "Home..." Yvonne let out a bitter laugh. "That place is not my home. If it is, why would my husband spend his nights elsewhere with another woman?" "Back to Jayde again. Can't you stop being so petty?" Shane said. "You think I am being petty? Should I smile while watching your displays of affection? Continue offering my bl**d? Perhaps serve another prison sentence?" Yvonne looked at Shane. "Shane, our marriage was business, but I'm a person--not Jayde's personal bl**d bank." Shane let out a cold chuckle. "You knew the marriage was transactional. You married me for your grandmother's treatment. Now that she's gone, you're eager to leave me. Burning bridges already?" Yvonne replied, "Fine. I'll repay every cent of my grandmother's hospital bills. I won't owe you anything after that." Fury blazed in Shane's eyes. "What did you say?" Yvonne met his rage with a calm expression. "Calculate the total. I'll provide an IOU and repay it in installments. You can decide on the interest." Just as she finished speaking, Shane quickly approached Yvonne. Yvonne barely had time to react before finding herself engulfed in his embrace. His hand gripped her waist as the world tilted, her back meeting the car's cold metal surface. "What are you--" Shane's lips silenced Yvonne's protest, claiming dominance in a breathtaking ki*s that left her gasping. "Unless you want me to have s*x with you right here, get in the car." ...... What happens next? Can Yvonne divorce as she wishes? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/68536322-fb_contact-e | Heat Novel A | https://www.facebook.com/100089743291944/ | 609 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | IMAGE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/68536322-fb_contact-enj106_2-250213-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=807BF4DD44FFB0C8ED4E702EFDEEFD038702E8549DE6807D | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476799299_998794442147340_8886407987918877034_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=BqaDhdd8QrwQ7kNvgE_RK3v&_nc_oc=Adi0u0zaIsQ1-2LT8_D5_s8-z4A-IMj3AxBRf4ot1I7lZhBv4f-_nkuXnObt1_mEeH2JdMWHKuaYmjN8wxLCT13L&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ARTGCUVZo8VBL20kCAoiFCT&oh=00_AYAuaqDxoZP7ZwyfnyGQD-ouyaJALRQrDwjKBul7NAx_iA&oe=67CB888E | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Heat Novel A | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2025-03-03 09:54 | active | 2763 | 0 | Read next chapter | Ever since my father passed away, Richard had taken on a brotherly role in my life, but he often disapproved of my closeness with other guys. Every time I found a boyfriend, Richard scared them off. I complained to my friend, "My brother is stricter than my mom!" Sandra handed me a bag of chips and thought for a moment. "Could it be that Richard likes you? You guys aren't even related by blood." Since then, I deliberately distanced myself from him, but during the New Year, he suddenly brought home a girl. "Tricia, call her sister-in-law." ===== Richard was only a year older than me, but he had always used his role as an older brother to control me. When I was younger, he'd scold me for skipping classes. As I grew older and started dating, he still interfered. One time, my friend joked, "Maybe Richard likes you? You guys aren't even related by blood." Since then, I had tried to keep my distance. But during the holidays, he suddenly brought a girl home. "Tricia, this is my girlfriend. Say 'Hi'." That night, I locked myself in my room and cried uncontrollably. He pulled me out from under the covers and gently wiped away my tears. "You could find a boyfriend to annoy me, but I couldn't do the same to you?" Lately, luck hadn't been on my side. Every time I found a boyfriend, Richard scared them off. I complained to my friend, "My brother is stricter than my mom!" Sandra handed me a bag of chips and thought for a moment. "Could it be that Richard likes you? You guys aren't even related by blood." It was true. My dad and his dad had been old friends, and ever since my dad passed away, his family had been taking care of us. My mother had always told me to treat Richard like a real brother. Even though we weren't related by blood, he was more responsible than any real brother. Back in school, he would watch me do my homework every day and even lecture me if I skipped class. He was only a year older than me, but he had always acted like an adult. Whenever I did something wrong, he'd scold me faster than my mom. "Tricia, that's not polite. Don't do that." "Tricia, don't talk badly about people behind their backs." The thought that he might like me sent chills down my spine. "Don't say that! You're going to give me nightmares!" After leaving Sandra's house, her words kept echoing in my head, as if they had put a spell on me. That night, I dreamed that Richard cornered me at the stairwell, gripping my chin and ki*sing me forcefully. "Who said you could get a boyfriend?" I woke up in a cold sweat, terrified, and immediately blocked his number. Thankfully, I was about to start my internship and wouldn't be home much longer. When I opened the door the next morning, Richard just happened to be walking by. Instinctively, I stepped back and slammed the door shut. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his cold, piercing stare. It felt like a blade cutting right through me. Later that evening, we went to his apartment for dinner. In front of everyone, he asked why I had blocked his number. I stammered, unable to come up with a reason, and had no choice but to unblock him. "I must've clicked the wrong button..." Trying to appease him, I offered him a piece of chicken with a flattering smile. "Richard, you look so thin! You should eat more meat." But something I said must've annoyed him because he even moved his plate farther away. "No need." I had found my internship on my own, even though Richard strongly opposed it and insisted I join his company. But this time, I stood my ground and firmly refused. I was too afraid that if we spent too much time together, something would happen. The apartment we were living in had been rented by Richard, thinking I'd work at his company and we'd commute together. But after starting my job, I found a new place to avoid seeing him as much as possible. My mother would text me every day, asking what I wanted to eat. She'd have the servant cook it and then deliver it to me. I'd give her a whole list of dishes, but Richard was always the one who showed up at my door. I almost slammed it shut again. But when I saw the angry look in his eyes, I stopped myself. I forced a smile and took the food container from him. "Richard, I've missed you." He ignored me, walking around the apartment to inspect the place. "Tricia, I send you so much money every month, and this is where you live? Where's all the money gone?" I hadn't touched a cent of the money he gave me. I didn't want to owe him or his family too much. But I didn't dare tell him that. He'd just accuse me of treating him like a stranger. Honestly, my mother gave me plenty of money every month too, but I had a habit of splurging on my favorite celebrities, so I had to cut costs elsewhere. "I'm investing. High returns, you know." Being a fan was an investment, especially for a toptier star like Lanny--his merch was incredibly popular. Once I got him out of my apartment, I finally breathed a sigh of relief. I swore I'd never overindulge again! Starting my new job, I often joined my colleagues for meals to fit in better. Eventually, I ran out of money and had to call my mother for help. She transferred $50, 000 to me but gave me a strict warning. "If you waste this money on a man again, I'm cutting you off." Chapter 2 Richard's Furious Because I Spent Money On Another Guy Her voice was so loud that my colleagues started giving me strange looks. I was exasperated. I had explained to her more than once that being a fan just meant liking a celebrity and spending some money on their endorsements. But my mom never listened and kept scolding me. "Spending money on men is pointless! You should be the one letting them spend money on you, got it?" Just as I was about to argue with her again, I heard a familiar voice on the other end of the phone. "Mrs. Reynolds, has Tricia gotten a boyfriend?" Why was Richard at my home? Startled, I immediately hung up the phone. The restaurant we picked was pretty popular, and we had to wait over an hour for a table. While we were waiting, a crowd suddenly started gathering. I glanced over and saw Lanny trying to make his way through the mob. Well, no wonder the place was packed--it's a hotspot for celebrities, and fans love to flock to places like this. Lanny saw me and headed my way, with a swarm of fans trailing behind him. It was a little intimidating. Wearing sunglasses, he looked cool, but in reality, he was a total goofball. "Tricia, you're here at my restaurant? Aren't you worried Richard will get angry?" Back in high school, Lanny and I were in the same class. He was great at math, and Sandra and I once went to his house to do homework. He casually put his arm around my shoulder, like we were just buddies, and neither of us thought much of it. But when Richard found out, he beat Lanny up. Ever since then, the two couldn't stand each other. I sighed helplessly. "If I'd known this was your restaurant, I wouldn't have come." I was a fan of Lanny--I went to his concerts and bought his endorsements, but I rarely paid attention to his personal life. One time, he recognized me from the stage and said he'd just give me a ticket next time, but I turned him down. Being a fan meant spending my own money; otherwise, it was not called being a fan, it was just being friends. Lanny handed me a membership card, saying I could eat at his restaurant for free from now on. I took it, thinking that if my mom ever really cut off my funds, at least I'd have a place to get a free meal. After dinner, I got home and saw Richard standing outside my door. I instinctively tried to retreat, but he was quick and called out to me. "Tricia, come here." For some reason, I always felt guilty around Richard. All I ever wanted to do was run away. "Richard, why are you here? Have you eaten yet?" He sneered, and despite it being hot, I felt a chill down my spine. "If I didn't show up, how would I know you're out here spending time with some guy?" I opened the door and explained that it was all just a misunderstanding. But he wasn't having it. He kept pressing, demanding to know who the guy was. I refused to tell him, thinking if he found out I'd spent money on Lanny, he'd beat him heavily. Then he gave me an ultimatum. "A kept man can't make you happy. Break up with him immediately." As I stood up, the card Lanny gave me fell to the floor. I quickly bent down to pick it up, but Richard was faster. He stared at me, eyes full of rage. "You don't even have money for yourself, and you're out here paying for his meals?" I was speechless as he stormed out of the apartment. Two hours later, Laurence, Richard's assistant, called me, practically in tears. "Tricia, what did you do to upset Mr. Stewart this time? I had just finished getting ready for bed when he called me back to the office to revise the proposal. I can't be on call 24/7!" I often visited Richard at his office, so I had gotten close with his secretaries and assistants. Since starting my internship, I knew all too well the pain of being forced to work overtime. Besides, they always gave me useful information--I couldn't just leave them hanging. I called Richard, and he picked up on the third ring, clearly still furious. I was trying to think of a way to coax him without making it obvious, but he was impatient. "Say something." My mind raced. Flattery never failed. "Richard, I heard you're still working overtime? You work so hard! With you in charge, the company is sure to thrive!" He didn't seem impressed. "If I didn't work my butt off, where would you get the money to spoil some guy?" Seeing that talking wouldn't help, I bought some snacks and headed to his office. When I arrived, the lights were still on, even though it was already ten o'clock. The tension in the air was palpable. Before I even reached the conference room, I could already hear Richard's angry voice inside. Chapter 3 I Thought Richard Liked Me, But He Brought Home A Girlfriend "Did I hire you to sit around gossiping all day?" "What kind of proposal is this? Is this your first day on the job? Take it back and redo it." I knocked on the door but didn't wait for a reply before entering. Everyone inside looked at me as if I were their savior, and I could see the gratitude in their eyes. Richard was caught off guard for a moment--he hadn't expected me to show up. I cleared my throat, walked up to him, and set the food down. "Richard, you should eat something. Mrs. Stewart said you haven't had dinner." He didn't move at first, so I grabbed his arm and guided him toward his office. As I closed the door behind us, I gave the others an "OK" signal. Richard's expression softened a bit, but he still looked like he wasn't in the mood to talk. I brought him a bowl of noodles, and he didn't even leave a single bite of meat. He must've been starving. "Richard, you need to take care of yourself. Work will never end. If you keep this up, your parents will be worried sick." He looked into my eyes, and I saw a mix of emotions--too many for me to make sense of. "And what about you?" I started tidying up the takeout container, avoiding his gaze. "Of course, I'm worried too. Why else would I come looking for you in the middle of the night?" My attempt to coax him worked. He picked up his jacket, slung it over his arm, and got ready to leave. "I'll take you home. It's not safe for you to walk alone at night." In the car, I avoided his eyes, pretending to look out the window at the passing scenery. For several days, I didn't contact Richard. My mom thought we were fighting and kept urging me not to be stubborn. "Don't be so willful. Richard is busy with work, and he still makes time to take care of you." I didn't know how to explain it to her, so I just stayed silent. As work got busier, I pushed the matter to the back of my mind. We spoke occasionally, but only about work-related things. Eventually, he became distant with me. I sighed with relief, but at the same time, I felt an odd emptiness inside. Time flew by, and before I knew it, Christmas was approaching. The company gave us a holiday starting three days before Christmas. Coincidentally, Lanny was holding a concert in Alodon, so I flew over to catch it and even took a photo with him afterward. Lanny said we hadn't taken a picture together in years and asked me to send him one. I did, and moments later, I saw him post it on Facebook. "Great concert! Thanks to all the friends who came from far and wide." When I returned to Pheldence, it was Christmas Eve. For some reason, I couldn't shake this feeling of unease. Every year, our families took turns hosting the family dinner, and this year it was at Richard's house. As soon as I walked in, I heard laughter coming from the living room. I headed toward the sound and saw a gentle, elegant girl sitting on the couch. She had long hair, was dressed in a luxury coat, and carried a limited-edition handbag. Clearly, she was the same type of person as Richard. The most important thing was that she was sitting next to him, with her hand linked through his arm. Richard didn't even look at me. His attention was completely on her. I felt an inexplicable surge of frustration and placed my things on the coffee table a bit too forcefully. My mom shot me a sharp look. "Tricia, can you show some manners? You just walked in, and you're already giving attitude." Richard smiled--barely, but I noticed it. Sitting across from them, their closeness felt glaringly obvious. "So, what should I call you?" I asked the girl. For the first time since I arrived, Richard actually looked at me. "Tricia, this is my girlfriend. Say 'Hi'." I didn't know what to say. Suddenly, I understood where that feeling of unease had been coming from. Richard was in a relationship, and I was the one who felt the most hurt. I quickly greeted her, but despite the feast in front of me, everything tasted bland and unappetizing. Once I got home, I rushed to my room, buried myself under the covers, and let the tears flow freely. I didn't know how much time had passed when I suddenly heard the door creak open. I hastily wiped away my tears, pretending to be asleep. Someone walked slowly to my bedside. I could feel his gaze on me as he crouched down. He pulled at my blanket, and though I clung to it, I couldn't match his strength. I opened my eyes to see Richard standing by my bed with a faint smile. "Tricia, why are you crying just because I'm in a relationship?" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/61215322-fb_contact-e | Heat Novel A | https://www.facebook.com/100089743291944/ | 609 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/61215322-fb_contact-enad50_2-250126-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=40775B4BFB7D9725885F7F58D32BBC7EAC33A3666F8B6BCD | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475122904_590396010468731_3125536487044633971_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=8SFVqB0vbh8Q7kNvgEKIUK-&_nc_oc=Adi1M9tKSddDOrtUDpLqvxaz2_kHDZU_xBjBXeLjTIyEy92CphXQkn8CuV9-jGsYCNGZtT1b65bhACeUHIy0y0oi&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AX1GQJvoMOGt5qNJCOLWxSB&oh=00_AYCDKxRmw0l1kthjolsz_Lg829Ya_pLriJWWQRR2olKwpA&oe=67CB8B89 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Heat Novel A | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-03-03 09:54 | active | 2763 | 0 | Read next chapter | To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi**ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his b*dmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my b*d, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red m*rk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my b*d too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You b**ch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame gr*aning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e | Heat Novel A | https://www.facebook.com/100089743291944/ | 609 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=AC23F375AA3082EF11E40274CB43768C998D820692660482 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/477715792_1664784017798419_7068377936623763597_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=BUDqJZ2ho9EQ7kNvgEG4wJB&_nc_oc=AdhptXpLzIgpJx6leWXvM9pSFKdk-1lL68MBrnV1Op3MwEnyRkpc8qUJKMbT_d54ROJYJ2LBFxGpMQliHfei23ex&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A6ZJSvlUpzt2pNqW0bh9x6m&oh=00_AYA3okJotfjiiPqkciz7GamQo_0i54CBGHOzzYYFVRsuqw&oe=67CBB277 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Heat Novel A | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-03-03 09:54 | active | 2763 | 0 | Read next chapter | To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi**ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his b*dmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my b*d, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red m*rk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my b*d too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You b**ch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame gr*aning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e | Heat Novel A | https://www.facebook.com/100089743291944/ | 609 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=AC23F375AA3082EF39059B5441FB181380D65F2222CF7B7E | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476963837_1095506898931036_3756034148235739694_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=G_nB8-I2oh4Q7kNvgFaJ4Gf&_nc_oc=Adj8QCpw5LT8hGt6I3ipphDvO9cpbFNyxFNMeU-l6IwG5kzGBEukhqreMFKhtK0figRzwBJkIrdp73TK8hDDtu4D&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Adhw0LliQ7Gh1-gUAsfIRkn&oh=00_AYA-0Teym9ftzaqVSEr6i_2yFdxLJMV51GF8edE8-axxbw&oe=67CBB617 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Heat Novel A | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-03-03 09:54 | active | 2763 | 0 | 🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉 | One day, Wendy discovered that her husband Stanley was having an affair. He had been seeing a college student. It was Stanley's birthday. Wendy had prepared a table full of dishes early in the day. Just then, she heard a notification from his phone. Ding! He had left his phone at home. Wendy switched it on and saw a text from the college student. [I hurt myself when I was carrying the cake. It hurts so much.] Attached was a selfie—not of the sender's face, but of her legs. The girl in the photo wore pulled-up white socks, black leather shoes, and a blue-and-white skirt that had been pushed up to reveal her long, slender legs. Her pale knees were visibly reddened from the bump. The youthful, vibrant image of her body paired with coquettish words exuded a forbidden allure. People often say successful businessmen like Stanley favored this type of woman when choosing mistresses. Wendy clutched the phone tightly, her fingers turning white from the pressure. Ding! Another text came from the college student. "Mr. Hawk, see you at Cloud Hotel tonight. I want to celebrate your birthday!" So, his mistress wanted to celebrate his birthday tonight. Wendy grabbed her bag and headed straight to Cloud Hotel. She had to see for herself who this college student was. She soon arrived at the hotel, ready to go in. Just then, she saw her parents, Harry and Lilian at the entrance. Surprised, she walked up to them. "Dad, Mom, what are you doing here?" she asked. Harry and Lilian, caught off guard, exchanged a glance before responding to her hesitantly. "Wendy, your sister's back in the country. We brought her here," Harry said. 'Jessica?' Through the hotel's gleaming floor-to-ceiling windows, Wendy spotted her sister Jessica and immediately froze. Jessica was wearing the exact same blue-and-white skirt from the photo in Stanley's phone. The college student was none other than her own sister! Jessica had always been a beauty, known as the 'Red Rose of Hovendale,' and she was famed for having the most beautiful legs in town. Many men had been captivated by her charm. And now, her darling sister was using those legs to seduce her husband. Wendy found it laughable. She turned to her parents and said coldly, "So I'm the last to know?" Harry gave a sheepish smile. "Wendy, Mr. Hawk doesn't even like you." "Exactly, Wendy," Lilian chimed in. "Do you know how many women in Hovendale are dying to be with Mr. Hawk? Better to let Jessica have him than some other woman." Wendy clenched her fists. "Dad, Mom, I'm your daughter too!" Turning on her heel, she started walking away. Lilian called after her. "Wendy, tell me—has Mr. Hawk ever touched you?" Wendy stopped in her tracks. Harry's voice turned sharp. "Wendy, don't act like we owe you anything. Three years ago, when Stanley and Jessica were Hovendale's golden couple, everyone thought they'd get married. But then Stanley got into a car accident and went into a coma. That's the only reason we had you marry him instead." Lilian gave Wendy a disdainful once-over. "Look at yourself, Wendy. In the past three years, you've turned into a housewife who revolves around her husband. Meanwhile, Jessica became the principal ballerina of her company. She's a white swan, and you're just an ugly duckling. What do you have to compete with Jessica? Just give Mr. Hawk back to her already." Every word felt like a knife into Wendy's chest. Tears filling her eyes, she walked away. - Back at the villa, night had fallen. Wendy had sent the maid Mathilda home, so the house was empty, dark, and cold. She sat alone at the dining table. The once-warm meal had gone cold. The cake she had carefully prepared had 'Happy Birthday, Honey' written on it in frosting. It was glaringly ironic, just like her existence—a complete joke. Stanley and Jessica had been the golden couple of Hovendale, with Jessica as Stanley's cherished 'Red Rose.' But three years ago, a sudden car accident left Stanley in a vegetative state and Jessica disappeared entirely. That was when the Crone family brought Wendy back from the countryside and forced her to marry Stanley in Jessica's place. Wendy had agreed willingly when she found out it was Stanley—the man she had loved all along. For three years, Stanley remained in a coma. During those years, Wendy devoted herself to caring for him. She stayed by his side, gave up socializing, and focused solely on nursing him back to health, living as a dutiful housewife. In the end, her efforts paid off. Stanley woke up. Wendy lit the candles on the cake. The flickering glow illuminated her reflection in the nearby mirror—a plain housewife in a dull black-and-white dress, devoid of charm or excitement. Meanwhile, Jessica, now a successful ballerina, was young, vibrant, and beautiful. Wendy was an ugly duckling, while Jessica was the white swan. After waking up, Stanley abandoned the ugly duckling and returned to the white swan's side. Wendy let out a bitter laugh. This wasn't love; it was self-delusion. Stanley had never loved her, but she had loved him. The first one to fall in love always lost. Today, Stanley had made her lose completely. Tears welled in her eyes as she blew out the candles, plunging the villa back into darkness. Just then, two bright headlights pierced through the night. Stanley's car sped up the driveway and came to a halt on the lawn. Wendy's eyelashes quivered. He had come back. She had thought he wouldn't return tonight. The villa door opened and Stanley stepped in, carrying the cool air of the night with him. Stanley Hawk, the heir of the Hawk family, had been a business prodigy from a very young age. By 16, he had earned dual master's degrees from Harfield. Later, he took Hawk Group public in Hawthorne, making a name for himself internationally before returning home to lead the company as Hovendale's wealthiest man. Stanley walked in. "Why didn't you turn on the lights?" he asked in a deep, magnetic voice as he turned on the wall lamp with a click. The sudden brightness made Wendy blink. When her eyes adjusted, she looked at him. Dressed in a custom-tailored black suit, Stanley exuded a cold, aristocratic elegance that left countless socialites dreaming of him at night. "It's your birthday," she said. Stanley's handsome face remained indifferent as his gaze swept lazily over the dining table. "Don't waste your time on this again. I don't celebrate such occasions." Wendy smiled faintly. "Is it that you don't celebrate, or you just don't want to celebrate with me?" Stanley glanced at her, his gaze impassive. "Think what you like." With that, he turned around and started up the stairs. He had always been like this—distant and cold. No matter what she did, she could never warm his heart. Wendy stood and called after him. "It's your birthday today. I have a gift for you." However, Stanley didn't stop or turn around. "I don't need it." Wendy let out a soft chuckle and said, "Stanley, let's get a divorce." Stanley froze mid-step, one foot already on the staircase. He turned around, his deep black eyes locking onto her. Chapter 2 Wendy was also staring at him. Her tone was light but firm as she repeated, "Let's get a divorce, Stanley. Do you like your birthday gift?" Stanley didn't bat an eyelid. "You're asking for a divorce just because I didn't celebrate my birthday with you?" "Jessica has returned, hasn't she?" At the mention of Jessica, Stanley's thin lips curled into a faint, mocking smile. He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Are you bothered by Jessica?" Stanley, known as the youngest business prodigy alive, exuded an aura of power, wealth, and status. As he approached, Wendy instinctively stepped back, her slender back pressing against the cold wall. Her vision went dark as Stanley leaned in. He propped one hand against the wall beside her, trapping her between his firm chest and the wall. Looking down at her with his deep, striking eyes, Stanley sneered. "Everyone in Hovendale knows Jessica was the one I intended to marry. Weren't you aware when you schemed to replace her and became Mrs. Hawk? You didn’t mind then, so why act all self-righteous now?" Wendy's face turned pale. Yes, Stanley had wanted to marry Jessica. If not for the accident that left him in a coma, how could Wendy have married him? She would never forget the day he woke up. The disappointment and coldness in his eyes when he saw her was devastating. Since then, they had lived in separate rooms. He never touched her. He loved Jessica. Wendy had always known this, but... She gazed deeply at Stanley's face, the grown man overlapping in her mind with the young boy from years ago. 'Stanley, do you really not remember me?' It turned out she had been standing in place all along, waiting for someone that no longer existed. It was enough. These three years were just her one-sided effort to cherish him. Suppressing the ache in her heart, Wendy said softly, "Stanley, let's end this loveless marriage." Stanley's brows arched sharply, and his deep, magnetic voice could be heard. "Loveless?" He raised his hand, gripping her delicate chin, his thumb brushing against her crimson lips in a provocative motion. "Is that why? Are you asking for a divorce because of that? Do you want it that badly?" Wendy's delicate face flushed red like a ripe berry, vibrant and tempting. That wasn’t what she meant! Yet his thumb lingered on her lips, pressing and toying with them. She hadn't expected such a composed and distinguished man to have such a teasing, roguish side. Stanley was seeing Wendy up close for the first time. She usually dressed in monotonous black-and-white outfits, paired with oversized black-framed glasses, presenting herself like an old maid. But up close, he realized her face was barely the size of his palm, and her delicate features exuded a quiet elegance beneath those glasses. Her dark pupils were stunningly beautiful. Her lips were soft, their plush surface springing back with a subtle elasticity wherever his thumb pressed. It stirred an unbidden thought. Stanley’s gaze darkened. "I didn’t expect you to be so eager. You’re that desperate for a man, aren’t you?" Slap! Wendy raised her hand and slapped him across the face. Stanley’s handsome face tilted to the side from the impact. Wendy’s fingers trembled with anger. She realized that loving someone too humbly only led to her dignity being trampled on. He had actually humiliated her. Furious, she declared, "I know you’ve never stopped thinking about Jessica. Fine, I’ll fulfill your wishes and return Mrs. Hawk’s title to her!" Stanley’s face instantly darkened, frosty and sullen. A man of his stature had never been slapped before—never! His sharp gaze locked onto her. "Wendy, you married me when it was convenient for you, and now you want a divorce just because you feel like it. What do you take me for?" Wendy let out a soft chuckle. "A plaything." "What?" Stanley’s expression stiffened. Wendy forced herself to endure the pain in her heart and said what she knew would hurt him. "You’re just a toy I took from Jessica. I’m done playing, so I’m tossing you aside." Stanley’s expression turned grim, his mood darkening to the point where it could drip with venom. "Fine! Wendy, you’re something else. Let’s divorce, but don’t come crying back to me, begging for reconciliation!" He stormed upstairs, slamming the study door shut with a deafening bang. Wendy felt as though all the strength had been drained from her body. Slowly, she slid down the wall, crouching on the carpet. Hugging her knees, she whispered to herself, 'Stanley, I won’t love you anymore.' - The next morning, Mathilda entered the study. Stanley was seated at his desk, reviewing documents. He was a notorious workaholic. "Sir," Mathilda greeted Stanley cautiously. Stanley didn’t even look up. His icy aura hinted at his foul mood. It felt cold being around him. Mathilda carefully placed a cup of coffee by his hand. "Sir, this coffee was made by Mrs. Hawk." Stanley’s pen paused mid-air, his cold expression softening slightly. Was she trying to make amends? Truth be told, Wendy was an excellent wife. She cooked to his preferences, hand-washed his clothes, and meticulously managed his daily needs. Stanley picked up the coffee, taking a sip. It was her coffee—the taste he liked. But he was still angry. She had slapped him last night, and he wasn’t about to let that go easily. A single cup of coffee wouldn’t suffice as an apology. "Did she admit she was wrong?" Stanley asked. Mathilda glanced at him hesitantly. "Sir, Mrs. Hawk has left." Stanley froze, looking up at Mathilda. She handed him a piece of paper. "Sir, Mrs. Hawk left this with her suitcase and asked me to give this to you before she left." Stanley unfolded the paper. The words 'Divorce Agreement' caught his eye. His expression darkened. He thought she was trying to reconcile. Mathilda added cautiously, "Sir, Mrs. Hawk asked you to finish the coffee before signing the divorce papers." Stanley glared at the coffee. "Throw it out! All of it!" 'Sir, you seemed to like the coffee just fine a moment ago. Why don't you anymore?' Mathilda thought to herself. Without saying another word, she quickly left with the coffee. Stanley’s face was a thunderstorm, his mood in turmoil. He skimmed through the divorce agreement. She wasn’t asking for a penny—she intended to leave with nothing. Stanley scoffed coldly. It was bold of her to act like she didn’t need his money. How would a country girl like her survive without it? It was then that his gaze landed on the reason for divorce, handwritten by Wendy herself. "Due to my husband’s physical dysfunction, he cannot fulfill his marital obligations." Stanley froze, his handsome face turning completely dark. 'That woman!' He grabbed his phone and dialed Wendy’s number. The line connected, and Wendy’s voice came through clearly. "Hello?" Chapter 3 Stanley's thin lips curved into a frosty arc. "Wendy, get back here immediately!" Wendy chuckled. "You expect me to come back just because you said so? We're divorced, Stanley. I'm not going to continue indulging you!" Stanley clenched his jaw. "I'll give you a chance to rewrite the reason for divorce!" Wendy's tone grew more playful. "Did I write anything wrong? Stanley, it's been six months since you woke up, hasn't it? Yet, in these six months, you haven't even held my hand. You were in a coma for three years, and although you're physically healthy now, I have legitimate reasons to believe you've developed functional problems. You're not potent anymore! Better hurry to find an experienced naturopath. As our parting gift, I wish you an early recovery of your manhood!" Stanley was rendered speechless. The veins on his forehead were visibly twitching. This woman was out of control. "Wendy, I'll make you regret this! You'll know what I'm capable of sooner or later!" "Sorry, but you'll never get the chance!" "Wendy!" The call abruptly ended with two cold beeps. He hadn't even had time to explode in anger before hearing the disconnected tone. 'Wendy…!' - Wendy had already arrived at her best friend Cecelia Sunder's apartment. After she hung up the phone, Cecelia burst out laughing and gave her a big thumbs-up. "Wendy, that was amazing! Stanley must be so furious, he's spitting blood right now." Wendy reflected that she had been too humble in the past, which had allowed him to act superior to her for so long. 'Love yourself first. A woman must always prioritize self-love.' "Three years ago, when Jessica learned Stanley went into a coma after the car accident, she immediately ran away. Now that he's awake, he's crawling back to her? What a joke! You're better off without a man like that," Cecelia commented. Wendy unwrapped a candy and popped it into her mouth. The sweetness seemed to mask the bitterness in her heart. "That's how you tell if you're loved or not, Cecelia." Those who were loved were fearless. Those who weren't lived in constant insecurity. Cecelia noticed Wendy had already gone through a pile of candies. She pulled Wendy to her feet. "Wendy, cheer up! When you give up one tree, you'll discover an entire forest waiting for you. Tonight, I'm booking eight male hosts to celebrate you becoming single!" Wendy covered her forehead and laughed. Cecelia suddenly snatched Wendy's black-rimmed glasses off her face, tossing them into the trash. Wendy tried to retrieve them. "My glasses—" Cecelia stopped her. "Wendy, you've been in academic research for too long, and you've gotten used to wearing these glasses. But you should take a page out of Jessica's book and doll yourself up." Wendy thought about how her parents had always told her she was an ugly duckling while Jessica was a swan. It wasn't just her parents—Stanley must have thought the same. In his eyes, she was just an ugly duckling too. Cecelia dragged Wendy to the door. "Come on, we're going shopping! Hair, nails, clothes—everything! I want Stanley and everyone else to see how stunning you can be!" As they walked out, Cecelia suddenly remembered something. "Oh, Wendy, are you really not taking any money from Stanley after the divorce?" "I have my own money," Wendy replied. "Letting Jessica spend Stanley's money instead? Jessica says thank you!" Cecelia teased. Wendy didn't know what to say to that. "What about the card Stanley gave you?" Cecelia pressed. Stanley was always generous and had given Wendy a premium black card. However, she had never used it. Wendy pulled the black card out of her purse and winked playfully. "Today, I'll splurge—and let Stanley foot the bill." - That evening, at 1996 Bar. 1996 Bar was Hovendale's playground for the rich, where young heirs and the city's elites spent extravagantly. The music was never-ending, and the dance floor was wild. In a luxurious and dimly lit booth, Stanley sat in the center of a leather sofa. Tonight, he had on a black shirt paired with black trousers. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his toned forearms and a steel watch worth millions. His aristocratic, striking features made him the center of attention, drawing glances from countless women in the bar. Beside him was his close friend, Benny Gondale—the heir of the Gondale family—and several other young elites. Benny laughed. "Stanley, are you serious? Wendy wants a divorce?" The others laughed along. "Everyone knows Wendy loves Stanley to the bone. When he was in a coma, she insisted on marrying him. There's no way she'd actually go through with a divorce." "Let's bet on it. How long do you think Wendy can hold out before begging Stanley to take her back?" Benny smirked. "I bet she can't even make it through tonight. She's probably already sent Stanley a message." Stanley's chiseled features remained cold and sharp, his mood clearly sour. He pulled out his phone and opened WhatsApp to check their chat history. The last message from Wendy was from last night. She had sent a photo of the broth with the caption, [Honey, even though your bone density is back to normal, you should still drink this broth regularly. Don't come home too late!] As he scrolled up, he saw countless similar messages—all from Wendy. She messaged him every day. He had never replied. Not once. Today, the chat was silent. Stanley felt a vague sense of irritation. Ding! A notification popped up. "See? I told you—Wendy messaged you!" Benny immediately exclaimed. Ding, ding, ding! Several more notifications followed in quick succession. The group burst out laughing. "We knew it—Wendy couldn't hold out! But we didn't expect her to cave so fast." "Stanley, open them. Let's see how Wendy is begging you to reconcile," Benny urged. Stanley's sharp eyebrows lifted slightly. Did she really send a message? If she regretted it so quickly, why did she make such a fuss this morning? He tapped on the notifications, only to freeze. Benny leaned over and read aloud, "Dear VVIP customer, your card ending in 0975 has been charged 800 at Dazzling Nail Salon." The group collectively frowned. Stanley scrolled further. 2,000. 86,000. 240,000. There were no messages about reconciliations, only transaction notifications. The group fell silent, feeling like Wendy had slapped them all hard in the face. Stanley's expression darkened and he slammed his phone onto the table. He didn't care how much money Wendy spent. What bothered him was that she had gone on a shopping spree right after their divorce. This woman was something else! The once submissive Wendy, who had clung to him for three years, now seemed to have grown fangs. "Stanley, what's Wendy up to? She's gone to do her nails and hair, and buy clothes. Is she trying to imitate Jessica?" Benny commented. "Jessica is Hovendale's Red Rose. Wendy's just a country bumpkin. No matter how hard she tries, she'll only be a pale imitation." "A swan is a swan. An ugly duckling will always be an ugly duckling." Everyone laughed at Wendy. Suddenly, there was a commotion in the bar. All eyes turned toward the entrance. Someone gasped, "Look—an angel just walked in!" Chapter 4 Wendy arrived. After finishing their shopping spree at the mall, Cecelia brought Wendy directly to 1996 Bar. Tonight, she was determined to throw a celebration party for Wendy. Wendy hadn't expected to run into Stanley and his friends here, but she could hear their mocking remarks. She recognized Benny and the others in the luxury booth. They were part of Stanley's circle, and Benny was Stanley's close friend. Back when Stanley had a whirlwind romance with Jessica, they were all fans of Jessica, with Benny even regarding her as Stanley's future wife. Over the past three years, Wendy had never truly integrated into their group. None of them ever accepted her. The labels they plastered on her were always the same: desperate substitute bride, ugly duckling, country bumpkin, and the like. When a man didn't love you, his friends wouldn't respect you either. Cecelia, already fuming, rolled up her sleeves, ready to confront them. "I'm going to tear their mouths apart!" Wendy quickly held her back. "Cecelia, forget it! We're divorced now—there's no need to stoop to their level." Seeing Wendy's calm and indifferent demeanor, Cecelia reluctantly held back her temper. Then, as more and more people began to notice Wendy and exclaimed, calling her an angel, Cecelia's mood improved. "Wendy, let's go. Time to party." Cecelia dragged Wendy to another luxury booth and waved her hand grandly. "Bring all the male hosts from 1996 Bar over here!" Meanwhile, back at Stanley's booth, Benny and the others continued to mock Wendy. That was when they felt an icy and sharp gaze fall upon them. Looking up, they saw Stanley lazily lifting his cold gaze to glare at them. His expression was chilling, displeased, and full of warning. The men stopped laughing, and they immediately shut up, not daring to speak ill of Wendy again. Benny glanced at Stanley. Although Stanley had never paid much attention to Wendy, she had, after all, cared for him diligently for three years. It seemed Stanley still held some regard for that. At that moment, the commotion around them grew louder. "Wow, what a stunning angel!" 'An angel? Where?' Following the direction of the crowd's gaze, Benny looked ahead and was instantly dumbfounded. "Holy crap, she really is an angel." The other rich young men were equally astonished, their eyes glued to her. "When did such a stunning angel begin existing in Hovendale? How have we never seen her before?" Benny nudged Stanley. "Stanley, look! It's an angel." Stanley, who had no shortage of women around him, wasn't interested. He had seen all kinds of women—slim, curvy, and everything in between. He had no intention of looking, but Wendy's booth happened to be right across from theirs. When Stanley glanced over, he saw Wendy. Without her black-framed glasses and her usual dull, conservative attire, she revealed a delicate, fair face, her naturally exquisite bone structure, and ethereal beauty shining through. Her long, glossy black hair flowed gracefully over her shoulders, making her look like a true angel. Stanley paused, staring at her for two full seconds. Benny was excited. "Stanley, what do you think of the angel?" Another rich young man chimed in, "Mr. Hawk probably doesn't think much of her. Mr. Hawk likes delicate beauties like Jessica, not cold, aloof angels." "But look at her legs! Her legs are just as stunning as Jessica's." Wendy was wearing a short dress, shedding her usual conservative style and showing her legs for the first time. Her legs were perfectly proportioned—slender yet shapely. Those were legs that could make any man's imagination run wild. She looked just as good as Jessica. Stanley stared at the 'angel' for a moment and couldn't shake the feeling that she looked familiar, as if he'd seen her somewhere before. Just then, a line of male hosts walked in, all tall and handsome, forming a row in front of Wendy. Cecelia grinned. "Wendy, make your pick of eight." Deciding to indulge herself to celebrate her escape from the misery of marriage, Wendy smiled and pointed. "You, you, you... All of you stay." Benny counted aloud. "One, two, three... Eight! She actually picked eight male hosts at once!" The other rich young men laughed. "Why waste money? If the angel just asked, we'd serve her for free." Everyone chuckled. Ding! Stanley's phone buzzed again with a notification. Picking it up, he glanced at it to see what Wendy had spent on this time. [Dear VVIP user, your card ending in 0975 has been charged 500,000 at 1996 Bar for eight male hosts.] Stanley froze, staring at the words before raising his eyes toward the so-called angel across the room. If that wasn't Wendy, who else could it be? Stanley was speechless. Eight male hosts surrounded Wendy, pouring drinks into her glass. "Let's play a drinking game." Cecelia clapped happily. "Yes, let's play!" In the first round, Wendy lost. One of the male hosts handed her a drink. "Please drink some." Wendy took a sip, but the other male hosts protested. "Why drink his and not ours? We want to serve you too." Surrounded by all the attention, Wendy found it impossible to keep up, overwhelmed by the 'sweet burden' of their pampering. Stanley's eyes narrowed, his handsome features tensing into a grim expression. Without a word, he stood up and strode out. Benny was taken aback. "Stanley? Where are you going?" Wendy was about to take another drink when a large, strong hand reached over, grabbed her slender wrist, and pulled her up like she was a rag doll. Startled, she looked up to see Stanley's handsome face suddenly looming over her. She froze for a second, then quickly tried to break free. "Stanley, let go of me!" His face darkened and he dragged her away without a word. Cecelia stood up. "Stanley, what are you doing? Let Wendy go!" Benny and the others were completely stunned. They stared, dumbfounded, as if they had just misheard something. "Wendy?" "That angel is Wendy?" "Is this the same ugly duckling Wendy we know?" "She's actually stunning!" As they watched Stanley drag Wendy away, her cold, ethereal beauty still lingering in their vision, Benny muttered, "Wendy, who no longer chases after Stanley, just turned into a full-blown angel!" - Stanley's grip was firm and unrelenting, like an iron shackle. No matter how much Wendy struggled, she couldn't break free. His strides were long, forcing Wendy to stumble as she tried to keep up. "Stanley, let go of me!" Finally, Stanley stopped and flung her backward. Wendy's slender frame collided against the cold wall behind her. Before she could regain her balance, Stanley's tall figure loomed over her, pressing her against the wall. His eyes burned with fury. "Wendy, do you think I'm dead, playing around like this?" Chapter 5 Wendy furrowed her brows. "What did I do?" Stanley clenched his jaw. "Who told you to dress like this?" 'What? Like this?' she wondered. "What do you mean, Stanley?!" Stanley glanced at her ultra-short skirt. "Your legs are almost exposed. Do you really want people to see your legs like this?" Wendy's skirt was a bit short, but it was Cecelia's choice. Cecelia's exact words were, "My dearest Wendy doesn't show her legs, but look at how Jessica flaunts hers. Tonight, let everyone see who has the best legs in Hovendale." Wendy raised her finely arched eyebrows. "Looks like Mr. Hawk noticed my legs." Stanley paused. Wendy leaned back against the wall, appearing languid and graceful. She slowly lifted her right leg, her crystal-high heel brushing against his ankle. Stanley had on black trousers, showcasing his long, muscular legs, exuding an aura of coldness and restraint. Wendy's pale foot gently grazed up his ankle, moving along his calf. It was an act of seduction and defiance. Stanley shot her a cold glance. "What are you doing?" Wendy curved her lips into a smile. "Mr. Hawk, which do you prefer? My legs, or Jessica's?" Stanley stared at her small, delicate face that glowed with celestial radiance, yet she seduced him with a dazzling smile. Last night, he had glimpsed the beauty hidden beneath her dark-rimmed glasses, but he hadn't expected her to be this beautiful. He felt like he had seen this face somewhere before. Wendy's clear eyes sparkled. "Mr. Hawk, has Jessica ever wrapped her legs around your waist?" Stanley's breath hitched. His handsome face moved closer to hers, his gaze softening with a tenderness Wendy had never seen before. "Wendy, are you really this shameless? All you think about is men. You even hired eight male hosts to satisfy your needs!" He didn't answer Wendy's question about Jessica. That was perhaps the best kind of protection a man could offer a woman. Their love had been so passionate, full of youthful excitement. Jessica's legs had definitely wrapped around his waist, or else why would he still remember her so fondly? Jessica was lucky to have a man like Stanley so deeply attached to her. He would never describe her as 'shameless.' Though Wendy wore a smile, her eyes remained clear and distant. "Well, Mr. Hawk, your body isn't up to par and can't satisfy me, so of course I have to go out and find men. Let's get divorced quickly. If the first man doesn't work, the next will be better." Did she actually say he was inadequate, and the next man would be better? This woman was truly asking for it. Stanley reached out, grabbing Wendy's chin. "Are you trying to provoke me? Do you really want to know if I'm up to the task?" 'What?' Wendy froze. Stanley moved closer to her lips, teasing, but with words that carried no warmth. "Dream on. I won't touch you. The one I love is Jessica." He loved Jessica. He didn't even need to say it—Wendy already knew. It stung her heart, the sharp pain spreading through her, though the ache wasn't obvious. At that moment, a sweet voice rang out. "Stanley." Wendy looked up—Jessica had arrived. Jessica, the Red Rose of Hovendale, was a beautiful woman with rosy lips and perfect teeth, her body delicate from years of ballet training. Stanley immediately released Wendy and walked toward Jessica. He lowered his gaze to meet hers, his eyes filled with a tenderness Wendy had never seen. "You're here." Jessica nodded, then turned to Wendy. "Who's this?" Jessica didn't recognize Wendy at first. However, Wendy would never forget Jessica. Wendy and Jessica were stepsisters, but from completely different parents. Harry, Wendy's father, wasn't her biological father, but her stepfather. Many years ago, Wendy had a happy family with her real father, Jerry, and her mother Lilian, who were always respectful toward each other. Her father loved her dearly, always lifting her high. "Wendy, please be happy always." Then, one day, her father suddenly passed away. Harry, Jerry's brother, moved in with his daughter Jessica. Wendy's mother became Jessica's mother as well. Her mother remarried her second uncle. Her mother loved Jessica and stopped loving her. When Jessica got an A in a test and Wendy got an A+, her mother hit her hand with a ruler. "Can't you give your sister a break? Why must you outdo her?" When Jessica fell ill and had to undergo chemotherapy, her head had to be shaved. She cried, saying she had become ugly. In response, Wendy's mother immediately shaved Wendy's head. "You should look the same as your sister so she won't cry." Every night, her mother, Jessica, and Harry would sleep together, laughing and playing. Wendy, holding the doll her late father had bought her, would stand outside their door, crying alone. "Mommy, I'm scared…" Eventually, Jessica called her mother "Mom," which made her mother incredibly happy. But then Jessica said, "A mother can only have one daughter." One rainy day, Wendy's mother took her to the countryside and left her there. Wendy chased after the car, crying uncontrollably. "Mommy, don't leave me! I'll be good, I'll always put my sister before me… Mommy, hold me… I'm scared…!" Wendy fell heavily into the muddy water while holding her doll, watching helplessly as her mother's car disappeared from view. Wendy would never forget Jessica. At that moment, Benny rushed over. "Jessica, this is…your sister, Wendy!" Jessica was stunned. "You're Wendy?" Wendy knew that Jessica had always looked down on her. When they were young, Jessica had always been the one to beat her. As Jessica grew up, she excelled in everything. Later, she even dated Stanley, the heir of the Hawk family. She grew up in a world of admiration and love, full of pride and arrogance. Benny, once again, was stunned by Wendy's ethereal beauty. He whispered, "I didn't expect Wendy to be this beautiful." Jessica's memory of their childhood was fuzzy because she had never truly paid attention to her unloved sister. But wasn't her sister the ugly duckling from the countryside? Jessica approached Wendy, glancing at her, her brow raised in haughty pride. "Wendy, I didn't expect you to start dressing like me." Wendy remained silent. 'Well, if you say so,' she thought. Wendy straightened her slender back, smiling but saying nothing. The light from the corridor illuminated her delicate, otherworldly face, making it glow like a precious pearl. She was no longer the Wendy from before. Jessica sneered. "Wendy, I heard you're getting a divorce with Stanley. Can't you live without a man? Coming to a bar to hire male hosts to fulfill your desires? If I were you, I'd get a job." As she spoke, Jessica glanced at Stanley. In a tone that seemed almost benevolent, she added, "Stanley, Wendy took care of you for so long. Even if she was your maid, you should at least find her a job." Stanley's gaze landed on Wendy's face. "Jessica, nowadays, you need a degree to get a job. What's Wendy's education?" Benny said. Jessica seemed to recall something amusing. She lifted her chin and laughed. "Wendy dropped out of school at 16." Chapter 6 Benny was stunned. '16 years old?' The reason people in Benny's social circle held Jessica in such high regard wasn't just because of her beauty. It was also because of her exceptional academic achievements. She was a high achiever at a prestigious university, someone unmatched even among Hovendale's socialites. She deserved to be with Stanley. For any woman, beauty alone was a dead end. Beauty combined with education was the real trump card. The higher the social class, the more they valued a woman's education. Benny's initial admiration for Wendy vanished instantly. His tone became dismissive. "Wendy, did you seriously drop out of school at 16?" Wendy glanced at Jessica, who stood there with pride, and smiled faintly. "Yes, I did stop studying at 16." Benny sneered, "Well, what a coincidence. Stanley also stopped studying at 16. But he's a true prodigy, earning dual master's degrees from Harfield at that age and making history. And you? Dropped out of high school with nothing to your name!" His mockery echoed loudly. Jessica stood tall, looking down at Wendy with disdain. Stanley, with his tall and imposing figure, stood silently under the corridor lights. His handsome face remained unreadable as his gaze fell on Wendy. For the past three years, Wendy had been just a housewife, revolving around him. It was no surprise she lacked education. Wendy, however, didn't seem embarrassed or flustered. Instead, her clear, luminous eyes met his gaze. Then she smiled gracefully and said, "Yes, what a coincidence." 'Indeed, what a coincidence.' For reasons he couldn't explain, Stanley felt a ripple in his heart. He suddenly noticed how beautiful Wendy's eyes were—brimming with vitality and seemingly able to speak volumes without words. "Wendy!" At that moment, Cecelia came rushing over. She glared at Jessica. "Jessica, are you bullying Wendy again?" Jessica responded proudly, "We weren't bullying Wendy. We were just discussing helping her find a job." Cecelia was stunned. "You're helping Wendy find a job?" Jessica continued her magnanimous act. "Yes. Even though Wendy lacks education and qualifications, we'll try our best to help her secure something decent." Cecelia laughed in disbelief. "Do you even know who Wendy is? Wendy is—" Wendy quickly grabbed Cecelia's arm to stop her. "Cecelia, let's go." Cecelia held back her words, but before leaving, she cast a mocking glance at Jessica. "You'll regret this someday!" With that, she led Wendy away. Benny fumed, "What's wrong with Wendy? She dropped out of school at 16 and still acts so arrogant! If I were her, I'd be too ashamed to show my face." Jessica wasn't upset. She had never truly looked at Wendy as a rival—Wendy wasn't even qualified to compete with her. Getting angry at Wendy would only lower her status. She smiled loftily at Benny. "Benny, let it go. Ignorance is bliss." Benny turned to Stanley. "Stanley, you should hurry up and divorce Wendy. She's not worthy of you." Stanley's expression remained calm as his gaze briefly lingered on Wendy's departing figure. "Let's go," he said to Jessica. Jessica nodded. "Alright." And so, Jessica and Benny left with Stanley. - Later, outside the bar... "Mr. Hawk?" a voice called out. Stanley looked up to see a familiar face. It was Dave Suarez, the president of Harfield University. Stanley approached him. "Mr. Suarez, what brings you to Hovendale?" Jessica, always respectful of such prestigious figures, greeted him as well. Although she had always excelled academically, she hadn't been able to secure a spot at a top-tier institution like Harfield. Dave smiled. "Mr. Hawk, I'm here for a seminar. What a coincidence—you have a junior alumna here in Hovendale too." Stanley paused. "A junior alumna?" Dave nodded. "Yes, Harfield has two legends. The first is you, Stanley. The second is your junior alumna. Like you, she earned dual master's degrees at 16. She's a high-IQ prodigy. Unfortunately, you were a few years apart, so you've never met her." Benny's curiosity was piqued. "Wow! Stanley's junior is that amazing? Who's better between the two of them?" Dave smiled and looked at Stanley. "They're evenly matched." Stanley raised an eyebrow. He had never encountered a woman who could be his equal. Jessica, who had been calm earlier, suddenly felt an overwhelming surge of jealousy. This mysterious prodigious junior made her feel threatened. "Who is this junior?" she wondered aloud. Dave pulled out his phone. "Mr. Hawk, I've sent you her WhatsApp contact. She's also in Hovendale. You should connect with her and look out for her since you're her senior." Stanley nodded. "Alright." After Dave left, Benny urged, "Stanley, add her WhatsApp now! I want to see what she looks like." Stanley switched on his phone and found the contact. It had a profile named simply 'W,' with a plain white background. "What does the 'W' stand for?" Benny asked excitedly. Stanley didn't know either. He sent a friend request, adding the note, "Stanley." The request was pending approval. Benny was buzzing with excitement. "Stanley, once she adds you, introduce her to me! I'm in awe of her already." Jessica, sensing the shift in attention, grew visibly unhappy. At that moment, a car pulled up. Stanley's personal secretary, Zayn Cameron, had arrived. Jessica seized the opportunity to cut the conversation short. "Stanley, the car's here. Let's go." "Stanley, Jessica, see you later," Benny said. The car glided smoothly through the city streets, the quiet, opulent interior filled with an air of calmness. The dazzling city lights outside refracted against the polished windows, creating a cinematic interplay of shadows on Stanley's chiseled face—elegant and enigmatic. From the driver's seat, Zayn glanced back respectfully. "Sir, where to?" "To the office," Stanley answered curtly. Jessica observed him quietly, love evident in her gaze. She broke the silence with a question. "Stanley, what was that with Wendy earlier? You're not interested in her now that she's grown more beautiful, are you?" Stanley turned his sharp gaze toward her, his voice nonchalant yet teasing. "She's my wife. If something were to happen, wouldn't that be normal? Wasn't it you who handed her to me in the first place?" Jessica knew he still blamed her for leaving him behind to marry Wendy three years ago while he was in a state of coma. "Stanley, it wasn't like that. Wendy insisted on marrying you—I had no choice but to let her take my place…" Stanley's piercing gaze held hers. "Do you even believe that yourself?" Jessica faltered. Biting her lower lip, she feigned defiance. "Fine! Three years ago, I abandoned you—if you can't forgive me for that, then let's just break up! You can simply get rid of me if you don't want me anymore." She turned to Zayn and ordered, "Zayn, stop the car!" Jessica wanted to get out, but before she could leave, Stanley's long, elegant fingers reached out, grabbing her delicate wrist and yanking her firmly to his chest. Jessica's soft body collided with his solid frame, and she froze. Above her, Stanley's deep, exasperated voice softened into indulgence. "Jessica, you're only this bold because you know I'd spoil you rotten." Chapter 7 Jessica smiled, her heart filled with sweetness. She leaned into Stanley's embrace, then tilted her delicate, radiant face to look up at him. "I knew it—you can't bear to let me go. You would never leave me." Stanley, as Hovendale's wealthiest man, exuded an air of elegance and strength that could dictate the rise and fall of fortunes. He fulfilled every fantasy she had about what a man should be. But three years ago, when he had been in a car accident and declared a vegetative state, with doctors pronouncing he would never wake again, how could she waste the prime of her youth on a man like that? So, she had fled. Who could have predicted that Wendy, who married him in her place, would somehow help Stanley wake up within three years? Even now, Jessica didn't understand how Stanley recovered. Could Wendy's fortune be aligned perfectly with his? Doctors called it a medical miracle. So, Jessica returned. She knew Stanley loved her—he would never truly abandon her. Stanley looked at Jessica's radiant face. "If it weren't for what happened back then… Would I still spoil you like this?" At the mention of 'back then,' Jessica froze, guilt flashing through her eyes. She quickly changed the subject. "Have you slept with Wendy?" Stanley lowered his gaze. "Why would I sleep with her when I could sleep with you?" She knew he hadn't been with Wendy, but she asked the question anyway, baiting him into a flirtatious response. He played along, his words dripping with teasing ambiguity. Jessica loved this side of him—the allure of a mature man with a touch of mischief. His response made her cheeks flush. This cold and seemingly abstinent man only made her want to strip away his layers and uncover his deeper desires. Jessica turned, boldly straddling his lean waist. She draped her arms around his neck, bringing her lips close to his. Her breath was warm and seducing. "Do you want me?" Zayn, who had worked as Stanley's secretary for years, tactfully raised the partition between the driver's seat and the back of the car. Stanley looked at Jessica but said nothing. She was wearing a red dress. In her seated position, the hem had ridden up, exposing her long, flawless legs. Those famed 'best legs in Hovendale' were now sensuously wrapped around his tailored black trousers, creating an intimate and sultry scene. Jessica tightened her legs around his waist, pulling herself closer. "Say it. Do you want me?" If he said yes, she would give herself to him right here and now. Stanley, of course, understood her intent. But at that moment, an image of Wendy's legs from earlier in the evening at the bar flashed in his mind. Wendy's legs were perfectly proportioned, balanced in their slenderness and curves. She had asked him which legs he preferred—Jessica's or hers. At the time, Wendy had playfully raised her foot, the delicate crystal chain on her stiletto heels glinting as it dangled from her dainty ankle. She had teased him with her toes, brushing against his leg and asking if Jessica's legs had ever wrapped around his waist. Stanley slowly removed Jessica's hands from his neck. "I'm still married." Jessica frowned. "So?" "I don't intend to cheat while I'm still married," Stanley replied coolly. Jessica was momentarily stunned. The intimate atmosphere vanished. Stanley had put an end to it. Disappointed, Jessica slid off his lap. She had pride, too—she would only give herself to him if he wanted her. "When will you divorce Wendy?" she asked. Stanley's gaze shifted to the cityscape outside the window. In truth, it was indeed better that Wendy initiated the divorce—he was planning for it anyway. "Soon," Stanley said, his tone detached. Wendy and Cecelia returned to their apartment. Wendy lay on her soft bed, letting out a small sigh of relief. After tonight's indulgence, it was time to return to her normal life. She pulled out her phone and opened WhatsApp. Wendy had two accounts. For the past three years, she had been using the account named "Mrs. Hawk." Now, that account had been officially retired. She logged into her other WhatsApp account. As soon as she logged in, her notification chimed repeatedly. The group chat 'One Big Happy Family' was bustling with activity. Wendy opened it. [Whoa, whoa, whoa! Wendy's finally online!] Daryl exclaimed. [Welcome back, Wendy!] Ernest added. [Big hugs to Wendy!] Samuel chimed in. Her three seniors were tossing virtual confetti, enthusiastically celebrating her return. [Three years ago, Wendy was all starry-eyed and insisted on leaving the mountains to experience life with a man. So, how was it, Wendy? Was the man worth it?] Daryl asked. [Not worth it,] Wendy replied. [Looks like Wendy had her heart broken. Haha!] Ernest wrote. [So even Wendy can't conquer everything? Hahaha!] Samuel added. [All right, you two, stop teasing her. Let's just say these three years were her trial by fire in the mortal world. Sorry, this is just too funny—I need to laugh it out. Hahaha!] Daryl typed. Wendy was speechless. She was tempted to kick all three of them out of the group. With a swift move, she renamed the group chat from 'One Big Happy Family' to 'One Big Gossipy Family.' Just then, Samuel brought up a serious topic. [Wendy, it's time for you to come back. Our surgery schedule is packed. I've booked you a tricky heart operation. Report to the naturopathy center tomorrow.] Wendy replied with an 'OK' emoji. After exiting the chat, she suddenly noticed a friend request. She tapped it open and saw that it was from Stanley. Stanley was requesting to add her as a WhatsApp contact. The irony wasn't lost on her. For three years, she had used her 'Mrs. Hawk' account to message him daily. Yet, he had never replied. Now, on her other account, he was the one reaching out to her. 'Once upon a time, you didn't care for me. Now, you'll find I'm out of your reach.' Wendy's pale, delicate fingers hovered over the keyboard. After a moment of hesitation, she tapped decisively. - At Hawk Group… The Hawk Group building, a landmark of Hovendale, controlled the city's economic pulse. It towered into the clouds, its grandeur even more striking against the night sky. After dropping Jessica off at her home, Stanley arrived at his office. He sat in his black leather chair while he reviewed documents. The sharp nib of his pen scratched across the paper as he signed his name, 'Stanley,' with bold, confident strokes. Behind him, the gleaming floor-to-ceiling windows reflected the vibrant lights of the city—a dazzling backdrop that seemed to exist solely to complement this man. A crisp-sounding notification broke the silence. His phone buzzed with a WhatsApp alert. Stanley picked up his phone and opened the app. His brilliant junior had responded. Upon seeing the response, Stanley froze for a moment. Then, his thin lips curved into a smirk and he let out a soft chuckle. Chapter 8 Stanley's genius junior had directly rejected his friend request! At that moment, Zayn walked in with a cup of coffee. When he saw the screen on Stanley's phone, he was stunned. 'Did someone actually reject the CEO's friend request?' This was certainly something out of the ordinary. "Sir, your junior is…quite special," Zayn said. Stanley scoffed. 'Special indeed.' She was the first person to reject him. If she didn't want to add him, so be it. Stanley picked up the coffee and took a sip, only to frown. "Is the coffee not to your liking, sir? I'll make another cup," Zayn asked. Stanley suddenly remembered the coffee Wendy used to make—it was always just right for his taste. With an impassive expression, Stanley said, "Write an eight-figure check. That's my divorce settlement for Wendy." She said she wanted to leave with nothing, but he didn't believe it for a second. A girl from the countryside who had stopped schooling at sixteen—how would she make a living? She was just playing hard to get, hoping for more money. This eight-figure check was enough to buy out her three years. After that, they owed each other nothing. Zayn nodded. "Yes, sir." Just then, Zayn's phone rang. He answered and was thrilled. "Sir, great news! Dr. Ceylan has accepted our request and agreed to perform the heart surgery for Miss Jessica!" Dr. Ceylan was a legendary figure in the medical world, known for her extraordinary skills. Even top-tier billionaires had to wait in line to see her. However, three years ago, Dr. Ceylan had mysteriously disappeared, and no one knew where she went. Now, she was back. Jessica had suffered from a heart disease since childhood and had undergone treatments, but nothing worked. Now, Stanley had used his immense wealth to secure Dr. Ceylan's services for Jessica. The crease between Stanley's brows finally smoothed out, and he smiled. Jessica would be saved. - The next day, Wendy arrived at the naturopathy center. Suddenly, a group of black-clad bodyguards entered in an orderly formation, creating a path. Wendy and other bystanders were pushed aside. Two young women nearby were chatting. "What's going on?" "Don't you know? Hovendale's Red Rose, the prima ballerina Jessica, felt unwell while dancing today. Mr. Hawk brought her here to see a doctor." "With Mr. Hawk around, no wonder it's such a big fuss." Wendy's lashes trembled. She hadn't expected to encounter Stanley and Jessica at the naturopathy center today. "Look, there's Mr. Hawk and Jessica!" Wendy glanced up, and Stanley's tall, handsome figure came into view. He was dressed in a custom-tailored black suit, exuding an air of elegance and dominance. He carried Jessica in his arms. Doctors and nurses from the naturopathy center flocked around them, fawning over them like stars orbiting a moon. "Mr. Hawk, this way, please." Stanley strode forward. One of the young women gushed, "Wow, Mr. Hawk is so handsome! He's the epitome of a domineering CEO." "And Jessica's so beautiful, with her fair skin and graceful ballerina aura. They truly are the perfect couple!" "A dashing, noble CEO and a delicate, enchanting dancer—ahh, I'm dying over their fairy-tale love story!" Wendy and Stanley's marriage was a secret, known only to a select few. Most people were shipping Stanley and Jessica. Wendy watched Stanley disappear from her sight. Just now, he hadn't even noticed her; his eyes were only on Jessica. She was nothing more than a supporting character in their fairy tale. Reeling in her emotions, Wendy followed her appointment instructions and found ward Number 109. Soon, she saw Stanley, Jessica, Harry, and Lilian inside. Jessica was already sitting on the hospital bed, surrounded by Harry and Lilian on either side. Just like in their childhood, they pampered Jessica like a princess. "Jessica, this is great!" Harry said happily. "Mr. Hawk managed to secure Dr. Ceylan to treat you." Lilian was moved to tears. "Jessica, you've been through so much! But now, everything will be fine. Once Dr. Ceylan cures your heart, you'll be healthy and can marry Mr. Hawk as his bride." Jessica gave Stanley a sweet smile. Stanley, tall and imposing, stood by her side, gently patting her head. The scene of the four of them together was harmonious. Wendy froze at the door. She couldn't believe how small the world was—Samuel had assigned her the heart surgery case, and it turned out to be Jessica. The heartwarming scene inside made Wendy's eyes sting slightly. At that moment, Stanley seemed to sense something. He turned, and his deep, sharp gaze landed squarely on her. Wendy was caught off guard and met his gaze. Stanley's gaze narrowed as he immediately strode over to her. "Wendy, what are you doing here?" "I…" Wendy began. Stanley's voice turned icy. "Wendy, are you following me?" "I-I'm not," Wendy replied. Harry and Lilian noticed Wendy too. "Wendy, why are you here? Today, we invited the legendary Dr. Ceylan to treat your sister! How could you come here and cause trouble at a time like this?" Lilian yelled. Harry's expression darkened. "Wendy, you're so inconsiderate. Leave immediately!" Jessica said nothing. She sat on the bed, her gaze haughty and radiant as she glanced at Wendy. At that moment, Stanley's imposing figure leaned closer. He grabbed Wendy's slender arm. His voice was cold and dismissive. "Wendy, are you still playing hard to get? Have you not had enough of this? Now you're resorting to stalking? Stop wasting your time on me. Leave!" Chapter 9 No one welcomed her arrival—they were all trying to push her away. Wendy found it laughable. Her cold, sharp eyes swept across Lilian, Jessica, and Harry's faces before she yanked her arm out of Stanley's grip. A faint smile tugged at her lips as she said, "Fine, I'll leave." 'Remember this—it was you who told me to go!' With that, Wendy turned and walked away. Soon after, she came back. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she asked, "Mr. Hawk, do you know why I came to the naturopathy center today?" Stanley's gaze fell on her flawless, porcelain-like face, her soft peach fuzz catching the light, making her beauty even more striking. Stanley's expression was cold, and it was clear he didn't care. His voice was harsh and distant. "Wendy, this is getting annoying." Wendy stepped forward with a dazzling smile. "I'm here to help you find a naturopath." She pulled a small card out of her pocket and handed it to him. "Here, this is for you." Stanley looked down at the slightly yellowed card, which looked like something someone might slip through a door crack. The card read, "Traditional Naturopath – Specializing in ED, and helping you rediscover your manhood. Contact: 138..8888" Stanley's usually stoic face cracked ever so slightly. Wendy slipped the card into his suit pocket. "Jessica has a problem. Mr. Hawk, don't you as well? You both should really get yourselves checked out." She turned and walked away without waiting for a response. Stanley's hand, hanging by his side, clenched into a fist. This woman always managed to push his buttons. Jessica broke the silence. "Stanley, let it go. Wendy isn't worth our time." Lilian nodded. "Right. Why isn't Dr. Ceylan here yet?" Everyone grew tense at the mention of Dr. Ceylan, who was Jessica's last hope. Stanley glanced at his watch. The appointment time had passed, but Dr. Ceylan hadn't arrived. Just then, a nurse walked in. "Mr. Hawk." Jessica, Harry, and Lilian perked up. "Is Dr. Ceylan here?" The nurse addressed Stanley. "Dr. Ceylan arrived earlier but has already left." 'What?' Stanley looked down the hallway but didn't see anyone—only Wendy disappearing around a corner. Stanley frowned. "I didn't see Dr. Ceylan." The nurse explained, "Dr. Ceylan came, but decided not to stay." "Why?" Jessica, Harry, and Lilian's expressions changed instantly. "Why would Dr. Ceylan leave without helping Jessica?" The nurse apologized, "I'm sorry, but Dr. Ceylan refused to treat Miss Jessica." Jessica's face went pale. Dr. Ceylan wouldn't treat her? Why? Their earlier hope was doused like a bucket of cold water. Everyone was stunned. Jessica lost it. "Why won't Dr. Ceylan treat me? Why?" Harry and Lilian immediately comforted her. "Jessica, don't get upset. We'll figure something out and bring Dr. Ceylan back. You'll be okay!" Stanley's sharp features hardened. He stared down the empty hallway, his aura radiating danger. Outside the hospital, someone called out, "Wendy." Wendy paused and turned around slowly. It was Lilian, who had followed her out. Lilian approached her. "Wendy, this is for you." Wendy glanced down—it was a check for 20,000. "Wendy, Mr. Hawk doesn't love you. Stop clinging to him and give him back to your sister. Why can't you let her have him? Just divorce him and take this money to start fresh in the countryside," Lilian said. Wendy found it absurd. If she hadn't secretly done a DNA test on Lilian and Jessica, she might have believed Jessica was Lilian's biological daughter. Yet, that wasn't the case. Lilian was only Jessica's stepmother. However, Lilian adored Jessica and not Wendy, her actual daughter. Wendy knew Lilian was obsessed with Harry, which explained her bias. Wendy's gaze was calm as she looked at Lilian. She smiled faintly. "So, being Mrs. Hawk is only worth this much to you? Or is that all I'm worth in your eyes?" Lilian froze, then hurriedly said, "Wendy, I'm your mother, and I'm doing this for your good. You don't belong here…" 'Mother?' The word sounded foreign, and Wendy laughed softly. "You already sent me to the countryside once, and now you want to do it again. You really are a great mother!" Wendy didn't look at Lilian again. She stepped into a taxi and left. Lilian stood frozen, watching Wendy's taxi leave. Just then, someone approached. "Mrs. Crone." Lilian turned to see Ted Whalen, the head of the naturopathy center. Lilian immediately approached him. "Dr. Whalen, you have so many connections. Can you help us get Dr. Ceylan to treat Jessica?" Dr. Whalen smiled. "Mrs. Crone, I know Dr. Ceylan personally. I can make the introduction." Lilian's face lit up. "Really? Thank you so much, Dr. Whalen." Dr. Whalen's gaze shifted to where Wendy had disappeared. A sly smile tugged at his lips. "Mrs. Crone, was that your daughter who came back from the countryside? She's stunning. For a second, I thought I'd seen an angel." Lilian's expression turned cold, her earlier excitement fading into icy indifference. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17748&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 374 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | beokn.com | VIDEO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17748&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/t39.35426-6/476819187_1197659228639060_3139997150409907025_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=DvdbT215JqsQ7kNvgFiiZ53&_nc_oc=Adjq1NDTimGXNQJWAjcU7NCn-h4-f-8BZR0R6jxjcs3zQDJGZ-qwpF-2IJfu82Im5p9zQ1oETj_ml_YYnUIfio4V&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ASxo9GXJdYOM1ToUQTf-uln&oh=00_AYBLRbZSJcVHukOkV8TjfeU9WRodEmE6JXyKftScAm341w&oe=67CBAD28 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2025-03-03 09:54 | active | 2763 | 0 | Read next chapter | To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi**ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his b*dmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my b*d, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red m*rk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my b*d too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You b**ch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame gr*aning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e | Heat Novel A | https://www.facebook.com/100089743291944/ | 609 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=898E73583E5F987991EE5157AA1115EC9D6094AA74E8576F | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476341671_1154201676301356_1633325354047154456_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=W0wo2Rp1sWYQ7kNvgF55ymE&_nc_oc=AdiSe39MB5_q0rD-8Sq8kbmQ-keUzI0w9x2HhNfMbu5KKZEM_hqVmd4QvrOX81MiElIT0VKNiJs6gqP01WVi7ED0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMQP68hgAy22xECDi0ptOoT&oh=00_AYAIKQvFJDLmxovYzENAdjPcz9TH06G6mo53EB_D5gqZWw&oe=67CBB9B3 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Heat Novel A | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete |
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