Confucius Ads Library: Ads

Id	Vlad	Saved	Scrape Time	Status	Scrape Result	Title	Body	Cta Type	Link Url	Page Name	Page Profile Uri	Page Like Count	Enddate	Cta Text	Byline	Caption	Display Format	Link Description	Link Url	Creation Time	Page Profile Picture Url	Page Entity Type	Page Is Profile Page	Current Page Name	Startdate	Actions
2,747,154	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2747152}'	Yes	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759			VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	http://instagram.com/hyperresilient	hyperresilient	https://www.instagram.com/_u/hyperresilient	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram Profile		instagram.com	CAROUSEL		http://instagram.com/hyperresilient	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-19/460681904_797102262376805_1181179633017860395_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s206x206_tt6&_nc_cat=1&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=525117&_nc_ohc=50lgRGTJdH0Q7kNvgFJ1dH3&_nc_oc=AdhJKJToyfiiP1WfeHC28vm1uKKQW0-cZbIKJprY0NqTv2NOUVH7DvCCOIOoVrM-Q-_VyEEWAtqZk1ZNMtvMWa7T&_nc_zt=24&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.cdninstagram.com&oh=00_AYDzyFZ-6Vd3NOPVZZNM3e4kEOfrrZYJTdhnW1NfqfJyaw&oe=67CBA49C	IG_ADS_IDENTITY	1	hyperresilient	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,402	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2747433}'	No	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	Limited-Time: Watch the Full Episode FREE!	Jessica, the Wolf Queen👸🏼🐺, grew tired of war and bloodshed, so she disguised herself as a plain healer in the woods. To ensure a normal, happy life for her daughter, she sent her to the Russo pack. Little did she know, she had sent her daughter into a living nightmare. Her daughter was treated like a slave—humiliated, abused, beaten, and nearly raped, simply because she had no fame or power. Realizing her mistake, Jessica resolved to save her daughter and make those who mistreated her pay. Meanwhile, she discovered that the Russo pack had betrayed their country and collaborated with Lord Kilian Darkmoom. Finally, Jessica defeated them and restored peace to the wolf world once more.	WATCH_MORE	http://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.n	Top Drama	https://www.facebook.com/61567700708081/	4,574	1969-12-31 18:00	Watch more		play.google.com	VIDEO		http://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.newleaf.app.android.victor	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/482073146_616553734420708_4681899678625887029_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bJ3pLARJwvwQ7kNvgGFP51Q&_nc_oc=AdjxRfRnoFTxepOSo_P-D9wMyQfUMoqE3WRj32bzykkThiAFAXhuomAwS3qsle3x9YsMSZ7Q_Q4FaQ6b3jQoh24K&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A6KscwmZWxf2pjfK2sEYbiL&oh=00_AYAoGQ8xS751S6U0mygGGSUcYcADv2KJZUTG14ZgW8XMNQ&oe=67CB927E	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Top Drama	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,454	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2747456}'	Yes	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	Rising Dawn: The Awakening of Power (DUBBED)	Aidan Stein, the Eternal Lord Sovereign of the magnificent Eternity Palace, temporarily loses his memory and intelligence due to his 60-year cycle. He lives alone in Vertania until he encounters Jade Yule, who saves his life and becomes his wife. Years later, Jack Foley, an aristocrat of Vertania, develops an interest in Jade. He sends his men after Aidan, inadvertently triggering the resurgence of his memories and power.	WATCH_MORE	https://fb.dramabox.com/db_land_page/DLLPF1059457.	DramaBox- drama movies2	https://www.facebook.com/61551046958457/	282,612	1969-12-31 18:00	Watch more		fb.dramabox.com	VIDEO		https://fb.dramabox.com/db_land_page/DLLPF1059457.html?language=en&timestamp=1740749855253&channelCode=DLLPF1059457&bid=41000112468&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&ad_group_name={{adset.name}}&ad_group_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481341309_663436939582151_1145088029654742476_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=IU9LMcutU-0Q7kNvgFQjkP7&_nc_oc=AdjjDm6nOl2nux6H4acmKSYELXJiPnT3v0uv258PCFU-Xgvb-CUxgdxdh5w5grYp41EA5I4t--NrtskGstfSrZP6&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ad6TFJbsrrE3zJGvqaJRXEn&oh=00_AYDmVpRk40Bfn9QJEBuLOvafOVo4ke5bQQ2aJHKM8xRZxg&oe=67CB88C0	PERSON_PROFILE	0	DramaBox- drama movies2	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,482	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2747481}'	Yes	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759		Struggling with wrist pain from carpal tunnel, arthritis, or tendonitis? Say goodbye to discomfort with ReliefWrap™ 3-in-1 Wrist Support! 🎯 💆‍♀️ Soothe pain with heat therapy 🩸 Improve blood circulation 💪 Strengthen muscles with EMS technology Get relief in just 15 minutes a day—drug-free, non-invasive, and effective. 🕒 🔥 Holiday Sale: 50% OFF + FREE shipping! Shop now before it’s gone!	SHOP_NOW	https://shophealthmedusa.com/products/reliefwrap-w	Healthmedusa	https://www.facebook.com/61570914734312/	563	1969-12-31 18:00	Shop now		shophealthmedusa.com	VIDEO		https://shophealthmedusa.com/products/reliefwrap-wrist-pro	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480743900_644131531531804_2770125527912346868_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bAIUSGTZqTgQ7kNvgGCQ_Gj&_nc_oc=Adg3f2MVSEMV67VFSMUNMj_XTdlGHr8WMwz5Xep-JcxTagkmRtnRAdKjxPXCRZW1HQKx7lVuQrYIs4Oc07BAYoFB&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A1Qm0EbnntgP5EzSWZM7CZW&oh=00_AYDrrJYGlerwPP5QVyO2RxJ9V_sqkC6lzqPUQxVFfPRTeQ&oe=67CB8C28	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Healthmedusa	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,462	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2747456}'	Yes	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	Rising Dawn: The Awakening of Power (DUBBED)	Aidan Stein, the Eternal Lord Sovereign of the magnificent Eternity Palace, temporarily loses his memory and intelligence due to his 60-year cycle. He lives alone in Vertania until he encounters Jade Yule, who saves his life and becomes his wife. Years later, Jack Foley, an aristocrat of Vertania, develops an interest in Jade. He sends his men after Aidan, inadvertently triggering the resurgence of his memories and power.	WATCH_MORE	https://fb.dramabox.com/db_land_page/DLLPF1059457.	DramaBox - Streaming de Dramas Cortos	https://www.facebook.com/61565078571830/	2,329,185	1969-12-31 18:00	Watch more		fb.dramabox.com	VIDEO		https://fb.dramabox.com/db_land_page/DLLPF1059457.html?language=en&timestamp=1740749855253&channelCode=DLLPF1059457&bid=41000112468&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&ad_group_name={{adset.name}}&ad_group_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481119686_449622251474976_7177201059422869293_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=U5XYHUU6hZIQ7kNvgHnlaaC&_nc_oc=AdgciTDT3i6J2B9NZsnA5verdlnxAVkWbf6jMK058ankJz-D1nQya1PgX0AhTqN2qH5v5aQIvkjarNMl_HG2h-Yj&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Awy5cBZtowPTFcLWGkwF-kn&oh=00_AYAhttQRWhPbSqBzzV9kByfsfjvivDqvkYSPblHFyXM4tw&oe=67CB9A3D	PERSON_PROFILE	0	DramaBox - Streaming de Dramas Cortos	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,346	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	坐骨神経痛の痛みを和らげる 💪🏼	不快感を和らげ、治癒を促進する治療法を探る！クリックして詳細を見る！ ➡️	LEARN_MORE	https://www.theecofeed.com/jp/effective-ways-get-r	Discount Discoveries	https://www.facebook.com/61561987515569/	26,122	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	KUEEZ ENTERTAINMENT LTD and others	www.theecofeed.com	VIDEO		https://www.theecofeed.com/jp/effective-ways-get-rid-sciatica-nerve?utm_content=%E5%9D%90%E9%AA%A8%E7%A5%9E%E7%B5%8C%E7%97%9B%E3%81%AE%E7%97%9B%E3%81%BF%E3%82%92%E5%92%8C%E3%82%89%E3%81%92%E3%82%8B&utm_source=fb6&utm_medium=paid&utm_campaign=create&ly=gsearch&mbid={{ad.id}}&ch=kscb-fmyxp9qw	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481046430_1055047379788716_3471519601900412196_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=9u1qiYb7-4EQ7kNvgE8IVt1&_nc_oc=AdiZhjRX6Oij-0l5jvGErwzgf49JHtOR4GD4qv0A8I5O0bRqDuUuNjbarV-wLKFG-F0Ao0JZrFV3ad921yfKgPUb&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AQHaeBI6iNdshAeJr9nqdrh&oh=00_AYCk4ExzBQlS9LBAWPIF_Fh1QDCRIDLnj8rHy3pwjbR1Fw&oe=67CB9ABE	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Discount Discoveries	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,256	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2747269}'	Yes	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	🔥🔥 Click to Read 👉🏻👉🏻	"Mine." The dangerous and menacing voice demanded in front of everyone in the room. "You are mistaken. Her father has already promised her hand to me in marriage. Once she turns 18 we will be marked and mated." Mason announced proudly and another menacing growl erupted from that man's throat. "You are not touching my mate." He growled out through gritted teeth. "He's your mate." Bella whispered. "Who are you?" I asked. "Tyler Lowe. Alpha of the Blue Moon Pack." He announced. And my mouth almost dropped open. __________ I was covered in black and blue bruises and fresh cuts from that beating. But also bruises under the new bruises that were yet to heal. I was malnourished and didn't heal as fast as werewolves. But I was used to it. Ever since my mother died when I was 6 my father has been getting progressively worse until it finally got to this kind of abuse. Which was the worst kind. Where I could barely walk or even look at myself in the mirror. I had a quick shower because the water stung my skin too much and I washed my length snow blonde hair and I came out of the bathroom and walked into my wardrobe. I got dressed into a pair of black tights, a loose fitting shirt and a hoodie over the top. It was pretty much my signature look. When I was putting my books in my bag my bedroom door slammed open and I jumped almost to the ceiling because it scared me so badly. Dad was standing there and I was surprised that he was actually able to stand. "Hurry up. The pack breakfast is starting." He demanded still slurring his words. How was he going to explain that to the pack elders? This was going to be interesting. But I really didn't care. I grabbed my bag and went downstairs and we left our side of the packhouse and walked through long corridors together and when I couldn't keep up with dad's pace he grabbed my arm and dragged me along which only hurt my ribs even more. "Quit your complaining. What is the matter with you?" He snarled at me. I wasn't surprised that he didn't remember. He was too drunk to remember. But when we got to the main part of the pack house he made sure that his clothes were neat and his balding gray hair and goatee weren't disheveled and we walked into the large dining room where a lot of important pack members had breakfast every morning. Including the Alpha, his daughter Bella, the pack elders and other influential people around the pack. Like the doctor ect. There were several tables set out and a buffet where you could eat all you wanted. And I was practically drooling at the food as dad approached it and he piled one plate up with heaps of food and then gave me the second plate with only toast and a pancake on it. I found Bella sitting at a table by herself next to the window. She was the Alpha's second born and only daughter. And my best friend. We're the same age and we've known each other since we were in diapers. "I see you've brought the hoodie out again." Bella whispers as I try to sit down without drawing any attention to myself at how much pain I was in. We all know what it means when we see the hoodie - It's for covering the bruises. "I didn't realize that I ever put it away." I say. "Well, I'm glad that I don't have to wear mine today." She commented. "Yeah. Your dad has eased off of you. Is there a reason why?" I asked curiously and a little jealous. "Yep. Because my brother is coming home today." She beamed at me. And a huge smile spread across my face as well. "You're kidding. Ethan is finally coming home." I say. And she nods her head. I could tell that she was trying everything to hide her excitement. "I can't believe that. That's fantastic." I said. I noticed Bella looking around at the room but she didn't say anything. So I glanced around as well and when I did everyone quickly stopped looking at me. Dad tried to hide his evil side. But he wasn't fooling anyone. When he got drunk, he would always start fights with people and become unbearable. And he was getting drunk a lot more lately. People had an idea of what was going on in our apartment. But no one was willing to go up against the Beta. Because they all knew that the Alpha would be there to support him and they would be kicked out of the pack. Or worse. A lot of pack members lived in fear of our Alpha and Beta. It was a horrible way to live. But if they tried to leave then the Alpha would send warriors after them to kill them. He's done it more than once. The warriors were ordered to kill entire families that were fleeing. Which included children. That's what made this pack the strongest on the East Coast. Because no one was game enough to leave so it was a huge pack and all the warriors trained relentlessly. The only problem was that girls weren't allowed to train. We basically lived in the stone ages. The Alpha believed that she-wolves are only here to find their mates and produce pups for their mates to keep the pack going strong. It was barbaric and insulting. But he was the Alpha. His word was law. "How long do we need to stay here to be respectful? I hate everyone staring at me." I whisper to Bella. "Just a couple more minutes. Then we can leave for school." She whispers back. I then saw the head warrior Mason walk in with his two sidekicks Levi and Lockie trailing behind him and Mason's eyes set straight on me. They got themselves some food and then invited themselves to join me and Bella. Mason sat right next to me and moved his chair over so he could be closer to me, but I squirmed away from him as much as possible. He was big and good looking but he was a horrible person. And I knew that from first hand experience. He was the one that they always called to track down those families that ran away. And I know that he personally killed a child of those fleeing families. I wanted nothing to do with him. "I have exciting news for you Tessa." Mason says, looking at me. "And what is that?" I asked, exhaling while drinking a little coffee. "I have you're fathers blessing." He said slowly. And my head snapped towards him. "What?" I almost shouted and a few people looked our way before they went back to what they were talking about. And Mason was smirking at me. "As soon as you turn 18, I am taking you as my mate." He says. "And what about my true mate? My goddess given mate? What about him? He's out there somewhere." I say. "Who cares. He'll find someone else. Or he'll just wither and die after you reject him. I really don't care. But you will be mine. That's all I've wanted for years." He says lightly while playing with my hair. And I look at Bella pleading with my eyes. "Yeah. We have to get to school now. It was good seeing you Mason." Bella says standing up and I stood up as well. They stayed sitting at the table as us two grabbed our bags and left the dining hall as quickly as we could and we didn't even stop to say goodbye to anyone. Least of all our fathers. But we weren't that lucky. "You two will be home straight after school. We're having a party here tonight with a lot of visiting Alpha's." The Alpha shouted across the room. We both stopped and nodded to him before leaving the house. "I can't believe that your father promised you to that sack of prick." Bella yelled as we were walking down the road. "I can. My father knows his own kind." I say. "I am so sorry Tess. What are you going to do?" Bella asked sympathetically. "I don't know. But I'll figure something out. Even if I have to run away before it can happen. I will definitely do that." I declare. "Well, tell me before you do. I'm coming with you." She says. "Sounds like a plan." I say. And then a black BMW stopped right in our walkway and we stopped before we hit the car and we both stepped back not knowing what to expect right now. Then a 6 foot 4 man with short brown hair and cleanly shaved with muscles that looked like they were going to rip his shirt off his body got out of the driver's seat and smiled at both of us. "What? Don't I even get a hug?" He asked. "Ethan." Bella yelled, jumping into his arms. And the other door opened to reveal an equally big man with dirty blonde hair and a little facial hair got out of the passenger seat. That was Ethan's best friend Wyatt. When Bella finally let Ethan go he walked over to me and hugged me and I winced a little in pain but tried to hide it and then I hugged Wyatt. And I had to do the same thing. "Are you hurt?" Ethan asked. "Yeah. It was stupid. Rough housing with a couple of the warriors and this is what happened. I should know better." I lied through my teeth. "Girls aren't allowed to train. Why are you rough housing with warriors?" Wyatt asked. "I don't know. It seemed like a good idea at the time." I shrugged. " Come on Bells, we're gonna be late." I say. "We'll see you tonight." Bella says hugging Ethan again and we start walking off down the road again. But when I looked to the side I could see Ethan and Wyatt leaning against the side of their car watching us and talking about something. I was afraid that they didn't believe my rough housing with the warrior's excuse. "Bella. What would Ethan do if he found out about my dad?" I asked nervously. "You know Ethan as well as I do. What do you think he would do to your dad?" Bella responded confidently. "Just wait until he finds out that your dad gave you away to Mason. Ethan has always hated Mason. I don't think that mating will go through if Ethan is here. That's a good thing." Bella says. "Yeah. I'll take your word for it." I say skeptically. My father always had his way of getting his own way. No matter what it was. If he wanted me to mark and mate with Mason, then it was pretty much as good as done. When we got to school we walked inside and we went to Bella's locker first and then mine. Everyone obviously knew who we were but they kept their distance from us. Both of our fathers were known for being crazy. And no one wanted to mess with the Alpha or Beta's daughters. So we only had each other at school. Which was fine with us. The further we stayed away from people, the least likely they were to find out about what was actually happening in our house. When we got to our first class we sat at the back of the classroom as usual and I pulled out my notebook and pen and started scribbling on the page in front of me. When our geography teacher arrived and started the class I just sat there with my head on my hand scribbling in my book and barely paying attention. When I was 6 years old I woke up in the morning to my 26-year-old mother and my 48-year-old father screaming at each other in our old house. The one that we had before we moved to the packhouse. I stayed in bed for ages because I couldn't find the courage to get out of bed and go out there to see what was going on. I could hear things smashing and my mother screaming at my father. I then heard the slap that he gave my mother while yelling at her. And that's when I got out of bed. I opened my door and slowly crept down the hallway and stood at the kitchen doorway and my mother was on the floor holding her face and dad was standing over her. She saw me standing there and scrambled to her feet. "It's alright sweetie. I'm alright. Hey, why don't you go and get dressed and then you can go outside and play with Bella. How does that sound?" My mother asked, crouching down to my level. But I just shook my head and looked at my father before I turned back to my room and I closed the door. I started getting dressed but their fight wasn't over. I could still hear them screaming at each other and I was shaking while I was buttoning up my shirt. But I managed to get dressed and I walked back to the kitchen. My father was storming out the backdoor from what I could see and my mother was holding a rag to her bloody nose. "Why does daddy get so angry all the time?" I asked. "I don't know sweetie. He just does. Hey, are you all ready? I think Bella is alright outside. I saw her playing in the playground earlier. Why don't you go and find her while I clean up this mess and all the broken glass." Mummy says to me. "Okay mummy." I say. And I hugged her before I walked outside and Bella was still at the playground. I got on the swing next to her and she looked at me and then back to the house. "I could hear your daddy screaming from here." Bella says. But I just nod my head. She knew that meant that I didn't want to talk about it. " Do you wanna go and annoy Ethan. He's with his friends." She says. And I smile at that and shake my head. So we jumped off the swings and went running to find Ethan so we could annoy him. Something that we loved to do all the time. And it always cheered us up. I was snapped out of my thoughts by Bella nudging me so I looked at her and she pointed down at the picture that I was absent mindedly drawing. It was a big snarling wolf attacking a woman and child. I quickly changed the page and started paying attention to the class that we were in. Try to get my mind to concentrate on what needs to be done at school. The day went by pretty quickly and before we knew it, it was time to head home. But we always took our time before going home. We slowly went to our lockers to get our things and then we headed outside but we saw that same black BMW sitting out the front waiting for us. "Ethan. What are you doing here?" Bella asked. "I'm giving you guys a lift home." He responded with a beaming smile. "It's alright. We can walk. It's not that far." I say. "Too bad. Get in." Ethan ordered. So we got in his car and he actually took us into town instead of taking us home. "The Alpha told us to get home straight after school because of that party tonight." I told Ethan. "Don't worry. Dad and the Beta know that you girls are with me. I told them before I picked you guys up. Don't worry. You won't get in trouble." Ethan assured us. Ethan took us to an ice cream store downtown and took us inside. "You do know that we're not 10 years old anymore, right?" I asked Ethan. "I know. But I thought we could all sit down and talk." He says. "A coffee shop would have been better." I say sitting down. The other two got ice cream but I didn't order anything. "So Tessa, how are the ribs going?" Ethan asked. "Pretty good. I think they're just bruised. They'll be back to normal soon." I say. "Yeah. Thank goddess for werewolf healing." Ethan says. And I just smile at him. "So Bells, how has dad been since I left? Has he gotten any worse?" Ethan asked. "About the same, I guess." Bella says eating a bit of her ice cream and then she side eyed me. But unfortunately, Ethan managed to see us. But he didn't say anything about it. I had a really bad feeling that he only brought us here to fish for information. He was asking too many questions and I didn't really like it. So I kept quiet for most of that ice cream adventure and Bella and Ethan just kept talking like always. Like they were just talking about old times. When we got back to the packhouse Ethan said that he needed to go run some errands for his dad before the party so Bella and I went inside. Both of our dad's were sitting in the living room waiting for us and we knew that couldn't be good. "We are having people here in a few hours and you two have been out galavanting with Ethan." The Alpha says. "He picked us up from school. What did you want us to do? If we didn't go with him then he knew that something would have been up." I defended us while Bella sank back a little. She was never able to stand up against them. "Well, now you two have a lot of work to do, don't you. There's cooking that needs to be done and all the bedrooms in the packhouse need to be ready in case anyone decides to stay over." My father says. "I'll go and help Bella with the rooms and then I will get started in the kitchen." I say. "There's not enough time. Bella can clean the bedrooms. That means scrub the bathrooms, change the sheets, vacuum, everything. In every bedroom in this packhouse. And Tessa, you need to get started on appetizers, then the first course, then the second course, then the main course and then dessert." The Alpha ordered. "Yes sir." I say. I looked at Bella and we had to head in separate directions. I went to the kitchen and there was no one there. Hardly any omega's worked at the packhouse because the Alpha and dad made us two girls do everything. It was a wonder that we were even allowed to go to school most of the time. But I grabbed some ingredients out and I started making the main course because it would take hours to cook and then I got started on several different appetizers to give the guests some variety. While I was in the kitchen my father walked in and he lingered behind me and I could feel my whole body tense up but he stood behind me watching me. He didn't even try to move any closer to me. He was just intimidating me. That's all it was to him. A game. He thought it was funny. By the time everything was ready the omega's arrived because they had to serve the food and I went up the backstairs to our apartment and I went straight to my bedroom. I had a shower and I couldn't even bear to look at myself in the mirror this time, so I just had a quick shower and I got out and went to the wardrobe. I got dressed into a floor length gown with a white strapless bodice with a light pink floral lace over the top that also went over my shoulders to make the straps and black the skirt of it was plain black and black strappy high heels. I then brushed my length snow blonde hair and I put on a silver and diamond bracelet and matching earrings. But I kept my neck out, except for my hair hanging down. And then I started to walk downstairs. I made it to the main area of the house and I stopped at Bella's room just as she was coming out and she was looking a little nervous about this party. "Alright. Just relax and greet a few people. There's nothing to worry about. Once we do that then us two can sit at one of the tables in the ballroom and everyone else can do whatever it is that they do." I told her. "Alright. You know I hate these parties. Getting all dressed up. It's like our father's are putting us on display." She says. "That's exactly what they're doing. And they know it too. Come on, before they get pissed at us for being too long." I say hooking my arm around hers and we started walking down the hall. We walked down the staircase and off to the right was the living room but all the furniture had been cleared out of it and the rooms adjacent to it so people would walk around freely and talk and have a good time. And the main ballroom was set up for dancing while the dining room had been lined with four very long tables that could easily seat a couple hundred people. Walking to the living room was really nerve wracking but I made sure that I held my head high and people did look at us. "It's only because we are the hottest ones here. Just remember that." I whispered to Bella as I felt her tense up. And we continued walking into the room. Alpha's from other packs would come over and introduce themselves and of course we needed to be on our best behavior and represent the pack well and we were nice and polite to everyone and we would have light conversations with people. I noticed that there were older Alpha's with their teenage sons who were obviously learning the ropes to becoming Alpha's themselves and there were others in their 20's and 30's that were there with friends or even their Beta's. I wasn't sure. We had been at the party for about 20 minutes mingling when a familiar scent filled my nose and strong arms wrapped around my waist and I knew immediately that it was Mason. "Take note of the people that you like in this room sweetie. We can invite them to our wedding." Mason hissed in my ear while smelling the crook of my neck. I tried to unravel his arms from around my stomach because I was now in a lot of pain with the broken ribs but he wasn't letting go for anything. I didn't have the strength to get him to let go. All of a sudden there was a growl that ripped through the room and the band stopped playing and I heard something smash. Like it was a wooden chair or something. Everyone looked in that direction and there was a man standing there that I had never noticed before. He would have been in his early 20's, brown hair to his shoulders, a brown goatee, 6-foot 6 at least and very defined muscles that were now tense as his intense gaze was staring directly at me and Mason. But I didn't know who he was. I was frozen in the spot and this man was just staring at us with pure hatred in his eyes. But then I realized that the hatred was for Mason. Not me. "Mine." He demanded. "Mine." The dangerous and menacing voice demanded in front of everyone in the room. All the Alpha's from nearby packs and even ones that have traveled long distances to be here. Mason finally loosened his grip around me and I noticed the woman standing next to that stranger with a horrified look on her face. She tried to grab his arm but he shook her off and marked towards Mason and me. I very subtly pushed Bella to the side away from where this man was coming for us. Just in case anything happened, she could be ready to duck and cover. "You are mistaken. Her father has already promised her hand to me in marriage. Once she turns 18 we will be marked and mated." Mason announced proudly and another menacing growl erupted from that man's throat. "You are not touching my mate." He growled out through gritted teeth. "He's your mate." Bella whispered. "Who are you?" I asked. "Tyler Lowe. Alpha of the Blue Moon Pack." He announced. And my mouth almost dropped open. They were a large pack. They were known for their strength. They were not to be messed with. I knew of their pack, but I had never met their Alpha and didn't know what his name was. "She is not your mate. She has been promised to me." Mason gritted out. This was going to get out of hand. Really quickly. But another man stood in and placed his hand on Tyler's shoulder. "My name is Cade. I am Tyler's Beta. And I'm sure you know young man that it is against werewolf rules and nature to come between a wolf and his mate. Especially that of an Alpha wolf." Cade educated Mason. "I know the laws. And I don't care. Her father promised her to me. And she will be mine." Mason insisted and Cade had to hold Tyler back after that.	LEARN_MORE	https://a.letsreadnovel.com/ad/bGV0c3JlYWQvNDQzNzc	ForFun-120	https://www.facebook.com/61554751622817/	201	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more		a.letsreadnovel.com	VIDEO		https://a.letsreadnovel.com/ad/bGV0c3JlYWQvNDQzNzc2LzIwMjUwMjI4MTYxODUyL3BhZ2U=?adid={{ad.id}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/482220928_1372140927290110_2847282518020736755_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k12yR4VsCxMQ7kNvgGwzuM6&_nc_oc=AdiQ7mo7ZTXiLtYPOYehetmCijc8osM2rx14MFwMDdNaPL8HNvgc9HuxJqxfTBdqYVjQAVi9lwUGiLtO7pVvS7wb&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhgAUIE0q4_ey4ZHkh7DOyv&oh=00_AYDEqlek826V_n5GH3iMICKWP3arRguKl0dbPkNp7olacw&oe=67CB8006	PERSON_PROFILE	0	ForFun-120	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,347	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2747348}'	No	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	Absolutely Free Reading:📖Alpha's Caged Mat👉🏻	“Murderer…”“Liar…”“Traitor!”Each vile word spat at Ava stung like the cut of a blade, digging deep and slicing her up from the inside out. These weren’t strangers hurling profane slurs at her and glaring at her with such intense hatred in their glowing eyes; these were the people who’d watched her grow up, taught her what it meant to be a Wolf. Now, they bared their fangs at her in rage, the shadow of their inner Wolves threatening to rise to the surface, to come tear Ava apart. These had been her people once, but tonight it was clear they were her enemies. “Burn, you fucking traitor!” A rock sailed out of the darkness and caught Ava across the forehead. Ava hissed in a yelp of pain and dropped to her knees. “On your knees where you belong, rogue bitch!” The crowd erupted in a round of raucous cheers seeing the girl felled. The guards holding the lead to her shackles continued on, forcing Ava to stumble back to her feet or risk being dragged through the mud. Determined to maintain her dignity in spite of her rising sense of panic, Ava blinked the warm trickle of blood out of her eye and quickly got her feet under her. She was a rising Beta of the Red Moon Pack, whether they liked it or not. She refused to show such weakness in front of her subordinates. Ava bit back a heaving breath. She felt the oppressive weight of his gaze land on her, once again. Xavier. Alpha. Best friend. Potential lover. Now, potential executioner. He’d meant the world to Ava her entire life. Before he’d grown into a powerful male, before he’d inherited the title of Alpha of the Red Moon Pack, he’d been Xavi. He’d been hers. Along with Sophia and Samantha, he’d been her closest companion and confidante. Now, everything had changed. Everything. Ava’s guard finally came to a stop in the middle of a familiar clearing. A small stream ran through it and coupled with the break in the forest canopy, the spot made for a peaceful place to stargaze. She and her friends came here often. And although they hadn’t visited the glade in some time, Samantha and Sophia’s scents permeated the clearing, only overpowered by the overwhelming scent of their blood. There were no bodies to be seen, but she knew this was where they had died. The dread building in her chest increased as she caught another scent on the wind. Inexplicably, she smelled her own violet-tinged musk intermingled with theirs. Faint enough to distinguish from her current presence in the area, but strong enough to suggest she’d been in the glade recently. Ava started to sweat. If she could scent herself her, the other Wolves had, as well. Now, the tree line was crowded with representatives of their community, come to witness the trial and punishment of a so-called murderer. Standing in the center of the clearing were two figures whose shadows cut imposing silhouettes against the night. The first was Xavier. Beside him, standing tall and proud, was his father, August, who telegraphed absolutely nothing despite having just lost a daughter. “Let her burn!” “Make the filthy rogue whore pay!” The jeers continued as Ava was brought to a stop before the former and current Alphas. Ava watched the males closely, eagerly looking for any sign that might tip her on to their intentions. August began making a move forward, but a soft growl from Xavier made him pause. The exchange was nearly imperceivable, but Ava still caught the tiny nod August gave to Xavier, acquiescing the reigns in Xavier’s first real act as Alpha. Stepping forward, Xavier raised a hand toward the crowd that was practically vibrating with furious energy. “Peace, Wolves! By the end of the night, I promise you justice will be served.” Ava swallowed heavily as the surrounding Wolves cheered and settled, ready for the bloodshed to begin. Xavier nodded, satisfied that Pack had immediately responded to his command. “Then, let the tribunal begin.” He strode up to where Ava stood shackled. She wanted him to say that he didn’t believe the lies, that he knew her better than she knew herself – just like she knew him. He didn’t. Instead, he took her in, from the mussed pajamas she’d been wearing when she’d been dragged into custody, to the fresh, seeping wound on her forehead. This close, he let Ava see the uncertainty and regret written all over his handsome face. Behind him, August cleared his throat, low and sharp – a clear reprimand, reminding Xavier of who he was and what they were there for. The admonishment worked as Xavier’s expression shuttered taking her friend away and leaving only the austere leader in his place. “Kneel.” “Xavier– “Ava started to protest. “Kneel.” His voice went hard. “Xavier, please! You know I had nothing to do with S– “ “Your loyalty to this Pack is already in question. Think long and hard on whether or not you also want to openly defy its leader.” Ava heard the disguised plea in his words, to not make things harder on herself. Swallowing, Ava ducked her head in a sign of submission and lowered herself to her knees before Xavier. He gave another satisfied nod and pitched his voice low, “You’ll have your chance to speak.” “As we all know,” Xavier faced her, but addressed the crowd. “We stand here together in mourning over the loss of two of our own. Ava Davis, you’re under suspicion of making treacherous dealings and sundering a hole within the Red Moon Pack that can never be replaced. What say you?” “I’m innocent!” She looked around to the crowed before settling her entreating gaze back on Xavier, “You all know me – Xavier, you know me. Sophia and Samantha were like sisters to me, there’s no way I could ever hurt them.” Xavier’s jaw tightened at the word ‘sister’ and Ava knew he was thinking about Sophia. But he composed himself quickly, “Noted.” Turning toward a spot in the trees, he called out, “Victor, it was you who brought these allegations up against Ava. Tell us why.” “Alpha!” Victor stormed forward to join them in the center of the clearing. The slight Omega had been August’s right-hand for years and was Sam’s father. He shook with rage as he considered her, vengeful satisfaction filling his eyes as he took in her shackled, subjugated form. “I’m honored to help bring this filthy traitor the retribution she deserves.” Murmurs of agreement spread throughout the crowd as Victor spun to address them, “This…beast murdered our own.” Ava’s head began shaking her denial even as he continued to speak. “I did not– “ “The future of our Pack and she betrayed their trust. She’s betrayed our trust.” He spat, never once looking her in the eye as he spelled out her death sentence. “Victor, I know that you’re hurting- “Ava pled. “Because she was my daughter!” Victor spun toward her, bellowing. His cry echoed through the night, his pain sharp as a knife. He took a few breaths to compose himself before turning to face the Pack again. Wrong or not, he’d resonated with them. Members, both male and female were openly weeping in their anger, feeling the open wound Sam and Sophia’s deaths had opened in our community. “Your proof, Omega.” Xavier calmly demanded. This trial was a joke, most of those gathered here had already judged her and found her guilty in their minds. Even so, she couldn’t be punished without proper evidence. “We all scented her on the wind upon our arrival,” he started, drawing furious nods from the masses. With a dejected heart, Ava saw Xavier’s nostrils flare as he, too, gave a solemn nod. “Beyond that telling truth, my daughter’s phone!” Any hope she felt died as Victor pulled a cell phone out of his coat pocket. The bejeweled leopard-print case looked stunningly out of place in this gloomy field. He pulled up their text thread and began reading aloud. “’Sam, you made me look like a damn fool. We need to talk.’ Sent from the accused’s phone number yesterday afternoon. Then, at half past midnight last night my daughter replied, ‘I’m here. Where are you?’” His revelation was met with heavy silence. “That isn’t proof!” Ava cried, frustrated tears finally leaking past her defenses, the last vestiges of her façade shredded by the blatant accusation leveled toward her. Such evidence would never hold up in human court, but this wasn’t the human world. Here, Pack Law reigned, and the Pack ran on emotion, instinct. The tide of public opinion had turned against her and that was enough. “What reason would I have for doing this?” “She had what you couldn’t!” Victor’s implication was clear. It was a bold claim he made, and it painted a torrid picture for the jury. Rumors of Samantha’s budding relationship with Xavier had apparently been circulating. Unfortunately, Ava hadn’t heard them before she’d made her confession to him. She chanced a glance at Xavier, but his eyes where doggedly trained on Victor. His eyebrows were drawn low, and Ava knew he was thinking about that night, too. Two nights ago, she’d poured out her heart to him, hoping that he could envision the future she saw for them. Then, his gentle dismissal had crushed her even if she refused to let him see it. Now, it was cause for homicide. She’d been so bold, so confident in herself and comfortable with her and Xavier’s relationship. Daughter of the Pack’s second-in-command, she wasn’t bred to be shy, in fact she was known for being the brash one of their group. It wouldn’t have come as a surprise to anyone to find out she’d propositioned their Alpha, not like it would if Samantha had done so. Given the difference between mine and Samantha’s ranks, Xavier picking Samantha over her would be a shock to our Pack’s hierarchy. To many, it’d seem like an insult to Ava’s rank and honor. Retaliation on her part might be accepted, even expected, but murder… “Your pathetic pride was hurt, and my daughter died for it,” Victor continued. “What’s more, our beloved princess was caught in your crossfire!” The mention of Sophia elicited a strong reaction from the crowd, just like he knew it would. Sophia, indeed, had been beloved. She’d been warmth and levity, the kindest friend and fiercest protector. Victor said as much, causing the Pack to erupt in mournful howls, quickly replaced by calls for her head. “Traitor! Murderer!” An intense itch erupted underneath the surface of Ava’s skin. Mia, her Wolf, threatening to unleash herself to protect Ava from the other Wolves, but trapped inside by the shackles binding her wrists. “Xavier, please, you know none of this is true.” She supplicated herself to him further, head bowed, neck bared. Xavier looked at the crowd and began to speak when his father stepped up to him for the first time since the trial had started. The shouts of the crowd masked the words that would doom Ava. “Think very hard, Xavier,” The older male’s voice was stern, but calm, with the subtle charisma of a master manipulator. “Look at your people and the pain this girl has caused.” “The evidence was circumstantial, at best, father.” Xavier said, though he seemed unsure of himself, especially under his father’s scrutiny. “The good of the Pack comes first, Xavier. Always.” He subtly nodded at the raging crowd, hyped up by Victor’s angry chants for retribution. “This chaos cannot be allowed to fester within our ranks. It needs to end here.” His voice held a little too much of his previous command and Xavier tensed at the perceived encroachment on his control. August backed up a step and smirked, “But, of course, the decision is up to you…Alpha.” Xavier stood a moment contemplating his father’s whispered words and the increasingly hostile crowd calling for Ava’s head. The evidence wasn’t fool proof, but it was there. It was enough. He turned to Ava, “The messages, your scent…It’s too much, Ava. It’s too clear. The Pack has spoken!” “No!” She screamed as the insults turned to cheers. Hands roughly dragged Ava to her feet. “Given what evidence we’ve gathered and the dishonor you’ve brought upon this Pack,” Xavier’s voice boomed across the field like thunder. “As Alpha of the Red Moon Pack, I sentence you, Ava Davis, daughter of the Beta, to life imprisonment.” Ava grew silent. Life imprisonment. The rest of her life would be spent in a glorified dungeon. Numb, she turned to look at her parents in a final bid for salvation. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting. No one would go against the Alpha’s decision. After all, a Beta’s first commitment was to the Alpha. Xavier followed her gaze leveling her shivering parents with a ruthless glare. “Do you object to my judgment and the will of your Pack?” Tense silence quickly fell, everyone waiting with bated breath to hear the Beta’s response, Ava included. Under the Pack’s scrutiny, her father’s shoulders straightened while her mother’s fell, ever-so-slightly. Ava knew then what they’d say. “We do not, Alpha.” Her father proclaimed. There was no containing Ava’s sorrow and panic. Heaving sobs ripped from her chest, all semblance of pride completely gone. She’d been damned after all. As Ava’s jailers hauled her out of the clearing past Xavier, he uttered one final nail in her coffin. “It should’ve been you.” Three years later... “Ava Davis!” The gruff yell of a guard yelling her name startled Ava from her fraught sleep. Momentarily caught in the fuzzy in-between state of dreaming and the waking world, Ava felt the blissfully numb for the precious few seconds before reality caught back up to her. All too quickly, the dark stone walls surrounding her came back into focus, the stale smell of under-washed Wolves caused her nostrils to flare. As she shifted on her rock-hard cot, the aching in her back wrenched reluctant groans from her perpetually parched throat. Thirsty. Hungry. Sore and tired. Ava’s breath caught as the misery of her reality weighed on her like a boulder crushing her chest. And yet, tonight was nothing special. She’d woken up in a similar state, or worse, every night for the past three years. Ever since everyone she’d ever known and loved had turned their backs on her and left her to rot, alone and forgotten. Then, she recalled her dream. For the love of the moon, Ava’s thoughts were as wretched as the rest of her felt. Even in my dreams, I can’t get any goddamn peace. “Davis, I said move!” The guard banged her cell door with a baton. “Catherine Maddison! You, too.” A sharp pain knifed through Ava’s torso as she made to stand. Biting back another groan, she only took a moment to put pressure on her bruised ribs, determined to catch her breath and compose herself before making her way to the door. The ache that throbbed across her midsection was bone-deep, but Ava gritted her teeth and didn’t make a sound. Over the past three years, Ava had learned how this place operated, what was important to survive. Her name and status, none of that mattered in this depressing little hellhole. In fact, they’d only put a target on her back when she’d first gotten here. It hadn’t taken her too long to realize that pride wouldn’t get her far among the prisoners. It had taken her even less time to realize that her pride would get her even less so with the guards. Everyone was a prisoner here, whether they’d been sentenced here or not, and Ava represented the very system that had ruined all their lives. There would be no solace here, no rescue. That had been her first lesson, but it wouldn’t be her last. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . She hadn’t been imprisoned long the first time she was drug from her bunk. Rough hands yanked her across the cold concrete floor and, before her lupin eyes could adjust to the dark, a boot caught her in the stomach. “Like that, Beta bitch?” The voice that taunted her was deep for a female and raspy. “Who’s top dog, now?” Gritting her teeth against the pain, Ava grabbed her attacker’s foot and yanked hard, throwing them off-balance. As the shadowy figure crashed to the ground, Ava was on them. She rolled to her knees and leapt upon the assailant’s chest with reflexes honed by years of combat training. “Still me.” Ava sneered. Ava pulled back her fist and smashed it into the attacker’s face one, two, three times before another hand grabbed her wrist. “Ooh, she’s feisty!” Another voice barked. Shit. It was dark and she’d assumed the person attacking her was alone, a stupid rookie mistake. The unknown assailant behind her twisted her arm, wrenching her shoulder until it popped. Ava gasped, her body going rigid and allowing the attacker to drag her off of the first goon who was currently writhing in pain, hand clasped to a pulverized nose. Ava felt a final flash of satisfaction before she was shoved to the ground. Suddenly, a couple of attackers seemed to multiply as half a dozen aggressive shadows surrounded her. “What do you want from me?” She gasped, her voice laced with anger and pain. A hot, wet glob pelted her in the face. “You still think you’re better than us. You’re about to learn your place.” Then a foot slammed into her dislocated shoulder, grinding the abused joint into the stone floor below. Ava screamed and, as if her pained cry was a cue for the mob, the pelting began in earnest and didn’t let up. Ava reflexively curled in on herself, raising her one working hand over her head trying desperately, futilely to protect herself. Whenever she kicked, there was someone there to hold her down. Whenever she opened her mouth to scream, an arm was there to snake its way around her throat, cutting off her cries for help. There were just too many of them and she’d never been taught to fight alone. She was supposed to have her Pack for backup, that’s how every Wolf was raised. The lone wolf seldom survives. Now, Ava was the lone wolf against a rabid mob. Ava knew that if it weren’t for the silver shackles keeping all of their Wolves at bay, she’d be dead. And no one would care. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Ava learned the value of silence that night and it had served her well these past three agonizingly slow years. After she’d been jumped, she’d gone to a guard and was sent to her cot without supper for the inconvenience. Even though it was nearly impossible to avoid physical altercations in the prison, the gang beatings ended after that night. Ava suspected that had more to do with Layla than any of the guards, though. “Davis. I will not ask nicely again.” Damn. She’d tarried too long, and the guard had circled back around to her cell. The broad female stormed up to Ava, grasping her by a bruised wrist and pulled her out of the cell. In the hallway, she was shoved to the back of a line of girls being paraded out of the main living area. “Was the other night not enough to teach you to toe the line?” Ava choked back the tears that immediately rushed to the surface at the crass reminder of three nights ago, by far the hardest lesson the dungeon had given to Ava. Right, Ava thought. You don’t need a mob for things to get deadly down here. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Ava was flat on her back, reeling from the sudden severance of her connection to Mia, her Wolf. Different from the usual suppression caused by their silver shackles, Mia was…gone. She heard a choked gasp and looked over to see Layla, sweet Layla, gasping for air that couldn’t quite make it past the gaping slash across her throat. “No,” Ava fought down her pain and confusion, crawling to kneel beside the dying girl. How did this happen? Who’d hurt Layla? She was the kindest soul Ava had ever met in her life, the only prisoner who never caused or attracted trouble. She’d taken Ava under her wing and saved her from herself countless times over the years. This was…unfathomable. “Layla, I’m so sorry,” she sobbed. “Please hold on.” Through her own blood and tears, Layla’s lips twitched up into a smile. She whispered something Ava couldn’t quite catch right before the light faded from her warm brown eyes. “Layla –” A baton came down on Ava’s back as she was dragged away, sobbing not just for the loss of another friend, but for the soul who never deserved to be here and would never get the chance to leave. Ava knew she’d have to do it for her, somehow. It was Layla’s last wish, even if Ava couldn’t hear her, she knew what Layla had reminded her with her last breath. California. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . “We have enough.” Ava looked up to find herself in a holding room with a dozen other females. An unfamiliar female walked down the line of women, examining them closely. When she came to Ava at the end of the line, the female grimaced at Ava’s smattering of deep purple bruises. “They’ll do,” she nodded. With a shove, the guard behind her prompted her to follow the line of girls out of a set of metal doors Ava hadn’t seen since she’d been brought here. A gentle breeze caressed her feverish skin, halting Ava in her tracks. Looking up, she nearly cried at the sight of the moon cradled by a sea of stars overhead. They were outside! For the first time in three years, Ava could see the sky. By the sobbing gasps around her, Ava knew she wasn’t the only one feeling a weight lifted from their shoulders. “Enough! Get them inside before we’re seen.” The clipped command was the last thing Ava heard before a back was thrown over her head. Cries from the girls were muffled by the sound of an engine revving to life. Ava was hefted bodily into the air, ribs screaming, and thrown into what could only be the back of a van. Her protests joined the other women’s as metal doors slammed shut and their new cage began to move. After three years, Ava was finally leaving the dungeon. Only, she had a sinking feeling she was going to wish she’d stayed. By the time the truck had rolled to a stop, Ava had successfully navigated the extreme sense of panic and dread that had plagued her for most of the sightless ride and settled into a grim determination to face whatever was coming head-on. If she’d learned anything over the last three years, it was that the adaptable ones survive the longest. To make it in the dungeon she’d figured out how to cage the fighter she’d been born to be and cow herself in effort to not draw unwanted attention. She didn’t know what fresh hell these new circumstances would bring, but Ava was ready to re-light her fire, if the opportunity called for it. Even if Mia was still silent. Despite the countless morbid scenarios flitting across her mind, the jagged hole in her…inner self where Mia should be, was an ever-present distraction. She didn’t know what exactly had been done to her to sever their bond, in fact that entire cursed night was a blur. Even as she focused on her memories of a couple nights ago, only vague fleeting images flashed across her mind’s eye. There had been a confrontation that had turned violent, as most confrontations usually did in the dungeon. Ava’s body was consumed with a pain more deeply profound than any she’d experienced during her time in the dungeon or before. It went beyond physical pain, manifesting in ways Ava simply didn’t have the correct vocabulary to properly verbalize. It had been as if her soul had been torn in two, but that didn’t feel like a proper explanation, either. Mia was part of Ava, as all Wolves were a part of their hosts, but she was her own entity as well – the primal beast inside the sentient female. They shared a body and a fate, but both functioned independently of one another, Ava had full rein of their human body and when it came time to hand over the reins and transform, Mia took control of their lupine form. The relationship between a host and their Wolf is a symbiotic one with each consciousness contributing unique attributes to the other in order to make both forms strong. Ava gave Mia sentience, the ability to cognate above a common wolf’s level, making her a fierce strategist, as well as an asset to the Pack both in and out of human form. For Ava, Mia heightened her humanity, giving her increased reflexes, senses, and strength. Mia gave Ava a canine’s sixth sense of primal instinct and established the preternatural bonds that shape a Wolf Pack, allowing them to recognize one another’s status. In another life, Mia might have recognized her mate in another Wolf, solidifying a bond with their perfect partner, ensuring a life a connection and contentment for them both. Now, that reality seemed so far outside the realm of impossibility, least of all being the fact that Ava hadn’t felt a trace of Mia’s latent consciousness in the three days since Layla died. Currently sitting shackled and hooded in the back of a van going the moon knows where, Ava would be lucky if anything other than a gory, prolonged death awaited her whenever the doors finally opened. When they finally do, Ava braced herself for the worst, her body going taught as a bow string when a calloused hand drags her out of the back of the vehicle. Silently, she tries to gain her bearings, straining to hone her senses, looking for any clue as to where they’ve been taken. With Mia out of commission, though, all she can hear is the panicked heavy breaths of a dozen terrified women being shuffled out of a murder van. “Where are we?” Ava chances the question, willing to risk getting hit in order to suss out any useful information about their situation. “Quiet female. You’ll find out soon enough.” A guard answered. Female. Not ‘rat,’ which is what the dungeon guards called most of the prisoners, or ‘beta bitch,’ which is what they usually reserved especially for her. And when a hand grasped her arm, prompting her to move, it guided her rather than dragged her wherever she was meant to go. “You aren’t the prison guards.” She already knew by the lack of vitriol in the way that they moved, spoke, and comported themselves. Her suspicions were confirmed when her escort scoffed. “Hardly.” He didn’t elaborate and Ava didn’t need Mia to know better than to push her luck with him. They might not be the jaded, cruel prison guards she’d known for the past three years, but she didn’t know these people or what they were planning to do with her and the other females. Ava watched true crime religiously. Just because they weren’t being abused now didn’t mean they weren’t in store for worse than the dungeon had to offer. So, she’d continue to keep her guard up. Without Mia’s superhuman senses, Ava soon loses track of where they’re being led. Eventually, the cool night air falls away to the artificial bite of central air conditioning. We’re in a building with AC, Ava warily mused. Murderers don’t use AC, right? Ava felt her confusion grow as she picked up the distant sound of dance music. Not the kind you’d find on the radio or in a night club, but a more curated international sound better suited to the fancy lounges her dad and the other men in the Pack were fond of visiting in the city. Finally, the line came to a stop. For a long couple of minutes nothing happened and, despite her shackles, Ava tensed to bolt just as the hood was ripped from her head. She winced at the sudden light, but as the sunspots faded from her eyes and her vision came into focus, Ava’s confusion solidified into a hefty lump of apprehension sitting low in her stomach. The room they were in looked an awful lot like the lounges Ava had thought of before. Dark leather couches accented with emerald velveteen settees and ottomans filled a room that’s walls were lined with far too many mirrors, gilded though they were. The ceiling of the room was covered in dormant strobe lights and, of course, more mirrors. Ava’s eyes followed the long shiny line of bronze poles to where they stood affixed in immaculately polished black marble floors. Ava’s expectations for the upcoming events quickly realigned as she took in the room’s more…specific details. Like the bronze chains that hung from the ceiling, some ending in bronze bars, while others led to leather handcuffs. When she spotted a large dark X-shaped structure at one end of the room, Ava’s suspicions were all but confirmed. A sex club. Within the span of a few hours, Ava had gone from resigning herself to dying early and unacknowledged in a pit to standing in what looked to be a posh bar for the kinkily inclined. Ava was scared, of course she was. On her mental list of worst-case scenarios, being sold to a sex club was surely up there. But, taking in her surroundings, this didn’t look like the seedy urban underbelly she’d imagined. This looked like a way out. Ava was steadily putting together the bones of a plan when a beautiful woman walks through a gilded glass door. Tall with long black hair and cheekbones like steel, this woman had presence. Her dulled senses prevented Ava from picking up any specific information about the woman, but Ava knew she was a Wolf and that, whatever this establishment was, it was hers. “Madame Bella, they’ve arrived,” the female from the prison walked stand behind their tall, lavishly dressed hostess. Lighting a cigarette, Madame Bella slowly walked down the line considering each of the filthy, trembling females, much like her minion had back in the holding room. “Such. Pretty. Omegas.” Each of her words was punctuated by the sharp click of her six-inch stilettos. When she came to Ava she stopped, taking a drag of her cigarette without breaking eye-contact. “Not an Omega.” She raised her hand with the cigarette in summons, “Dorinda, explain this one.” The female from prison, their handler Ava guessed, rushed to Madame Bella’s side, “This one’s not an Omega, Madame. But, if the guards were to be believed, she is untouched.” Bella’s eyebrow quirks in interest, “In this day and age? Impressive find, Dorinda. Why can’t I read her?” Dorinda swallows silently, “There’s something wrong with her Wolf. They didn’t elaborate, but her connection was severed, she’s effectively human.” Ava refused to flinch at the stark words and held her chin up when the other females had nerve enough to stare at her, appalled. Even now, she was the odd one out. “Human,” Bella said it the same way one says unexpected garbage. “And what am I supposed to do with something so weak, Dorinda? Take it back.” With a dismissive wave, Bella began to turn away. “But…she’s…a –“ “A what, Dorinda? A virgin?” She cut the other woman off. “Woman, please. Even I’m not so callous to give a defenseless innocent to a rutting Alpha. She’ll be torn to shreds before she can pay off the cost of the clean-up crew.” Several of the other females begin to weep as Madame Bella rolls her expressionless eyes. “She’s useless to me. Take her back.” When the female turned to leave again, Ava knew her chance for survival would walk away with her. “Wait!” She put every bit of authority she’d inherited from her title into her voice. If there was a time for gambling, it was now. “You can’t send me back.” Bella paused, eyebrow quirking again, this time, Ava expected, in amusement. “And why, pray tell, is that?” “The dungeon is a lot of things, but it’s not a brothel,” Ava gestured to the other girls. “Whatever this deal was, I highly doubt it was on the up-and-up. If you send me back, I might let something slip.” Any amusement abruptly vacated the woman’s diamond-hard face. Ava knew she was over-playing her hand, but she felt more in her element parlaying with this intimidating female than she had in years. “You raise a fair point. Why don’t I just dispose of you instead?” Ava set her jaw, “This is a pretty nice-looking establishment, all things considered. I don’t think you like getting your hands dirty.” Bella cocked her head in bemusement, “Darling, if you think I need to sully my hands to get things done, you’re not as quick as I was beginning to think you were.” Ava shrugged, effecting an air of nonchalance she didn’t feel, “Fair point,” she parroted. “I may not be able to make you money in the…traditional sense, but I’ve got something the others don’t.” When Bella didn’t cut her off, she gestured to the crying bewildered girls beside her, “I have drive. I want to be here. I’ll wait tables or wash your unmentionables, whatever you need me to do, I’m willing.” The stern female considered Ava again, a new emotion almost like respect reflecting in her gaze. “Why? Cry as they might, they’ll earn enough to buy their way out of here within a couple of years. Scrubbing toilets isn’t nearly as lucrative. Where’s your hope, girl?” Ava smirked mirthlessly, “That died a long time ago. And have you seen the prison? If you had, scrubbing toilets wouldn’t seem so bad.” A quick almost-smile flashed across Bella’s lips, gone before Ava was certain it had ever been there at all. “Fine,” was all she said before sauntering out of the room, leaving the handlers to see to the shaken girls. Twenty minutes later, Ava found herself in a closet-sized room, bland and small, but dry and relatively safe. Best of all, it had a tiny window, small enough to ensure she stay in place, but just enough to let her watch the stars. And she did. For the first time in years, Ave prayed directly to the moon until dawn broke. ————————— Download the app and read the follow-up of the story>>> Free reading without any hidden fees>>>	LEARN_MORE	https://ads.novelflow.app/prod/template/1934.html?	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2,747,375	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2747280}'	Yes	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759		Aidan Stein, the Eternal Lord Sovereign of the magnificent Eternity Palace, temporarily loses his memory and intelligence due to his 60-year cycle. He lives alone in Vertania until he encounters Jade Yule, who saves his life and becomes his wife. Years later, Jack Foley, an aristocrat of Vertania, develops an interest in Jade. He sends his men after Aidan, inadvertently triggering the resurgence of his memories and power.	WATCH_MORE	https://fb.dramabox.com/db_land_page/DALPF1052189.	DramaBox- drama movies3	https://www.facebook.com/61550858717796/	15,440	1969-12-31 18:00	Watch more		fb.dramabox.com	VIDEO		https://fb.dramabox.com/db_land_page/DALPF1052189.html?language=en&timestamp=1740755049948&channelCode=DALPF1052189&bid=41000112468&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&ad_group_name={{adset.name}}&ad_group_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481813163_1320940435618020_2690193467562589486_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=3k_sbTuCdXoQ7kNvgElL6X4&_nc_oc=AdjOdGVYuLAgea5Bgpsl3wHD9na2k6v9HLOZdPAFRjUlxvGjxZWp9sUPy8taGCXhw0TlYzfLJKS1UgXi01Y6J7uF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AUA4tUC99UurILCVlF9ngba&oh=00_AYBQdJhce2fOdrVWhbZW-wihQaDHw4YVJlJ-h5RfZYElag&oe=67CB909F	PERSON_PROFILE	0	DramaBox- drama movies3	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,198	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2747193}'	Yes	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759			VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	http://instagram.com/dr.sarabloom	Dr. Sara Bloom	https://www.facebook.com/100081716703007/	5	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram Profile		instagram.com	CAROUSEL		http://instagram.com/dr.sarabloom	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481257012_556341500062883_3125364776923617727_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=6McbMPuQtyIQ7kNvgFuquPP&_nc_oc=Adg5vLwSwnZC7GmVXo73a3hIp4ztWG4ZpTAO4sObjknP9TVrsvRcA_4gWwKeGZ_AlEQKLTduLJ8JAm4UcoUoLLp8&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A28MwY7JW0xAkASPrgNXmee&oh=00_AYBvDSk4Obt7Xp8vqM2RVjaBE1WXCi9myl_ZgbmZ58v-bA&oe=67CBA924	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Dr. Sara Bloom	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,054	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	Read next chapter👉	Three years of passion without love. But after every night in bed, he took his first love to her checkups. She struck back--filed for divorce and hired a model who looked just like him... for wild, endless nights! ===== Chapter 1 Carry On With Whatever This Is A military jeep thundered down the bustling bar street, its presence like a storm on the horizon. The jeep, adorned with a high-ranking officer's insignia and a distinctive license plate, commanded the attention of all it passed. It came to a jarring halt in front of the neon-lit Serendipity bar, its brakes screeching a piercing challenge to the surrounding nightlife. The door of the jeep opened and then slammed shut with a force that reverberated through the silent evening, mimicking the sharp report of a gunshot. A man emerged, his camouflage uniform blending oddly with the urban setting. His stern expression and the firm set of his jaw added to his daunting presence as he stepped into the colorful chaos of the bar. Inside, the neon lights cast an otherworldly glow on his face, the shadows playing across his features as he moved with a purposeful stride. The bar was alive with the vibrant beats of electrifying music and the murmur of drunken chatter--yet he seemed to carry a chilling silence around him, isolating him from the revelry. At the bar counter, Ryland Flynn was engrossed in a flirtatious conversation with the bargirl. He looked up as the military man entered, the haze of alcohol clearing swiftly from his eyes. The imposing figure made a beeline for the elevator, and Ryland, sensing urgency, scrambled off his stool to intercept him. "Mr. Mitchell... What brings you here to Serendipity tonight?" Ryland's voice faltered under the icy gaze of the man. The man's eyes narrowed, his voice resonant and commanding as he demanded, "Where's Renee?" "I... I believe she's at her home tonight," Ryland stammered, struggling to maintain his composure under the piercing scrutiny. Without hesitation, the man pressed the elevator button for the top floor, his action sharp and decisive. "You have 30 seconds to alert her," he stated curtly. Ryland's heart raced as panic gripped him. He knew that fabricating a story was pointless now. With trembling hands, he pulled out his phone and dialed Renee Carter's number right in front of the imposing figure looming over him. The phone buzzed unanswered after three persistent rings, prompting Ryland to switch to WhatsApp in a frantic rush. Opting for a voice message, he pressed the microphone icon and whispered urgently, "Renee, your husband is here to see you; he's on his way up in the elevator." His attempt to keep his voice hushed failed miserably; the words echoed clearly in the tight space of the elevator. An icy chuckle emanated from behind Ryland, sending shivers down his spine as the elevator dinged open. Sweat started to bead on his forehead, each drop a testament to his growing dread. The man stepped out with a determined stride, heading straight for the VIP room. Ryland, caught in a web of fear, trailed meekly behind, his steps hesitant and his mind racing for solutions. Stopping abruptly at the door, the man turned slightly. Ryland, mustering a sliver of courage, spoke up with a shaky voice. "Mr. Mitchell, I assure you, she isn't here." "Last chance--open up, or I'll kick this door in myself." "Please, believe me. She..." Ryland tried again, his voice faltering. "Three," the man stated evenly, his tone leaving no room for argument as the countdown commenced. "Fine," Ryland murmured, his voice a strained whisper as he fumbled with the room key, a sigh escaping him. His hands trembled slightly--caught in a bind, he dared not cross a member of the formidable Mitchell family. As the door creaked open, the man's eyes narrowed, his expression hardened into the stern, unyielding mask of a seasoned military veteran. Ryland stole a brief glance inside and sharply inhaled, quickly diverting his gaze to safeguard his own wellbeing, positioning himself squarely in the doorway, observing from a cautious distance. Inside, Renee reclined languidly on the sofa, her figure draped in a vibrant red slip dress that made a bold statement, flanked by two young male escorts. Their bare torsos were adorned with the unmistakable traces of passion, scratches carved into their skin like echoes of their heated encounters. The abrupt noise of the door's movement caused the escorts to stiffen, their muscles tensing as they beheld the daunting figure looming at the entrance. In sharp contrast, Renee exuded an air of nonchalant ease. Slowly opening her eyes, her lips curled into a taunting smirk upon sighting the man. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she regarded him through half-lidded eyes, her smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Relax, boys, it's not a police raid," she teased, her voice dripping with disdain. "Allow me to introduce him--this is my husband, the esteemed William Mitchell of the Mitchell family. You've surely heard of him, haven't you?" As she spoke, her gaze flitted over to William, observing his stoic visage with a provocative sneer. "Mr. Mitchell, to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit tonight? Aren't you supposed to be getting busy with your childhood sweetheart instead of wasting time here with us?" William approached with deliberate steps, the chill of the night air clinging to his camouflage jacket, mirroring the icy reserve on his face. He seated himself on the sofa across from her, crossing his legs with a deliberate nonchalance. Smirking insincerely, he waved a hand. "Don't mind me--carry on with whatever this is." Chapter 2 Disappointment Isn't An Option Here The two escorts were already visibly tense, their anxiety written all over their faces, and the mere mention of William's name sent shivers down their spines. Renee, her head bowed slightly, felt a surge of anger well up within her. Yet, she masked it expertly behind a veil of serenity and commanded, "You heard him, didn't you? Now that Mr. Mitchell is in the mood, you'd better be at your best--disappointment isn't an option here." She then raised her head, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous spark, and flashed a coquettish wink at William. "Mr. Mitchell, consider this an invaluable lesson. You treat the bed like a battlefield--my two companions, on the other hand, know how to make a woman feel cherished. After all, we aren't your foot soldiers. While I might endure your roughness, think of your beloved. She's far too delicate for such treatment, don't you think?" William responded with nothing more than a frigid glance. Reclining against the back of the sofa, he struck a match with a sharp flick, lighting his cigarette. A veil of smoke soon enveloped him, masking his inscrutable expression. Renee's irritation spiked at his detached demeanor; he looked almost wounded, though she couldn't fathom what could possibly dent his icy exterior. Impatiently, she snapped at the escorts, "Well? What are you waiting for? At Mr. Mitchell's request, show him what you've got--who knows, he might actually pick up a thing or two." With a defiant flair, Renee tugged at the straps of her slip dress, letting them slip down her shoulders. The men jolted with surprise, their eyes darting involuntarily towards William, whose gaze was icy and unforgiving. Instinctively, they squeezed their eyes shut. "Uh, Ms. Carter... maybe it's best if we go." As they stooped to gather their scattered clothing from the floor, Renee fixed them with a frosty stare that rooted them in place. "I've told you already. Disappointment isn't an option here," she stated, her voice sharp as the winter air. Her attention turned back to William just in time to catch a camouflage jacket sailing through the air, draping over her with precision, obscuring her view. Before she could shrug off the jacket, she was abruptly swept up by two robust hands. "William! What on earth are you doing?!" she exclaimed, her voice muffled under the fabric. Blind to his expression, she could only sense the intense, ominous aura radiating from him. Effortlessly, he slung her over his shoulder, a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his fingertips. In a swift motion, he extinguished the cigarette on the back of one of the men, eliciting a sharp yelp. Simultaneously, his boot connected with the other man's knee, causing a stifled groan of agony to fill the room. Ryland, who had been nervously lingering by the door, stepped forward in alarm. "Mr. Mitchell, please, let's resolve this peacefully," he pleaded, his voice quivering. "Get out of my way!" William's command was a low rumble, more animal than human, that sent Ryland stumbling back in fear. Helplessly, he watched as William maneuvered Renee into the back of the jeep, her protests fading into the night. The engine roared as the vehicle surged forward, a reflection of the driver's burning temper. As Renee collapsed onto the plush, crimson bedspread, the effects of the evening's alcohol started to fade. Her eyes fluttered open, fixing on the ornate bed in the master bedroom--an emblem of union they had never truly shared since their marriage. The irony stung, blending seamlessly with her sorrow. Their three-year union was not a sexless one. The rare times William came home from his military duties, their encounters, though heated and passionate, were just fleeting moments of intimacy. Yet, their living arrangements spoke volumes--they maintained separate rooms, with this room remaining untouched by either. But tonight, William's demeanor was unhinged, as he dragged her into this "sacred" space and threw her onto the bed without hesitation. "William, what the hell are you thinking?" Renee gasped, her voice a mix of bewilderment and fear. She barely managed to prop herself up when he loomed over her, his gaze wild and red-rimmed. "Get ready, because I'm gonna fuck you until you're begging for more," he declared, his words seething through clenched teeth as he ruthlessly ripped her dress strap by strap. "So, Renee, you were saying I was too rough, is that it?" he huffed, his breath hot against her ear, his teeth lightly grazing her earlobe in a chilling caress. "I'm gonna fuck you nice and easy tonight--make you feel every damn second of it." Trapped beneath his weight, Renee writhed futilely, her struggles inadvertently drawing them even closer. As he tenderly grazed her earlobe with a punitive lick, his voice cut through the air, icy and stark. "Remember, you're a married woman." Just then, the shrill ring of his phone pierced the tense air. Although he wanted to dismiss it, the insistent buzzing from his pocket--just as he was about to undress--compelled him to reach for his phone with visible impatience. Recognizing the caller ID, his expression softened slightly. With a wry, self-deprecating smirk, Renee peeked at his phone screen. Unsurprisingly, it was his childhood sweetheart calling. Her voice dripped with irony as she retorted, "Seems you've forgotten you're a married man." His eyes flickered to her, but before he could gauge her next move, Renee snatched his phone and answered the call with deliberate calm. "Hello, Sylvia," she called out evenly. There was a brief pause as Sylvia Payne processed the unexpected voice. "Renee... hi," she stammered, her words stumbling over the shock. Upon catching William's resigned look, Renee's smile twisted into a sly grin. "Yeah, it's me. Sorry, but William and I are a little busy right now. You know how horny couples get after some time apart--it's like a damn craving that needs to be satisfied. He's got his mouth all over me, so I doubt he'll be able to answer his phone anytime soon." Chapter 3 A Fucking Liar Renee's words might have struck a nerve or instilled fear in Sylvia, who fell silent, stewing in her thoughts for a lengthy pause. Just as Renee braced herself for another onslaught of bold accusations, William intervened, snatching the phone from her hand. His kiss, fierce and claiming, then stole her breath away. William wasn't one to make empty promises--he showed her exactly what gentleness could be. After what felt like an eternity of torment, Renee broke down in tears, pleading for mercy--only then did he finally relent. Drained from the ordeal, she succumbed to sleep almost instantly. Throughout the night, she drifted in a half-conscious daze, vaguely aware of William leaving the bed. By the time morning crept in, Renee awoke alone. She lay there on the vast bed that held both fresh and lingering memories, her mind adrift in contemplation. She turned towards the curtains, tightly drawn, blurring the lines between late morning rays and the onset of dusk. A wave of weariness washed over her as she reached for her phone, her body still aching from the previous night's passions. That was when she saw it--a post from Sylvia on Instagram, unmistakably capturing William from behind, engrossed in cooking. The realization hit with the sharpness of a knife. In a fit of rage, Renee hurled her phone against the wall. Despite the force, the device miraculously survived the impact. "That fucking liar! That cheating piece of shit!" she snarled, fists clenched in anger. Lifting the blanket, she tried to stand, but the lingering soreness made every movement a struggle. That scumbag had really done a number on her. Yet, he felt no pain at all--if anything, he was in high spirits as he happily went to cook for his lover. Her anger simmered, fueled by each throbbing ache and the betrayal freshly unveiled. Sylvia's post was a glaring provocation. At that moment, a hesitant knock rapped at the door, followed by the maid's timid voice filtering through. "Mrs. Mitchell, are you up? Mr. Mitchell had me prepare something to help with your hangover." Renee seethed with annoyance. Now that he was out cavorting with his mistress, why even bother sending the maid? She inhaled sharply, trying to quell the rising storm within her. "I'm much better now, thank you. No need for that," Renee called out, her voice strained. Yet, the maid lingered at the doorway, her tone soft and persistent. "Mrs. Mitchell, Mr. Mitchell also specifically prepared a pill for you. Would you like to come out and take it?" Confused and a bit curious, Renee cracked open the door and peered out. "What pill?" she asked, her brow furrowed in suspicion. "You know, for after last night..." The maid trailed off delicately. That was the last straw. Renee's control snapped like a rope stretched too tight for too long. She was teetering dangerously on the edge of an outburst. Over the past three years of their marriage, Renee had diligently taken a contraceptive pill after each of their intimate encounters. The thought of starting a family hadn't yet appealed to her; she wasn't ready to embrace motherhood. The routine was simple when she managed it herself, but it felt different, almost intrusive, when William had the pills delivered to her. "I'm not taking it!" Renee declared defiantly, her voice thick with resolve. "Tell that scumbag that if I get pregnant, I'll have the baby! Let's see how he deals with that!" Her words echoed sharply as she slammed the door with a resounding thud, the sound reverberating off the walls. The moment the maid stepped out, she started digging through the room for the pills she bought before, her remark earlier nothing more than a bitter jab. Exhausted, she collapsed onto the plush bed, her body twisting and turning as she tried to find comfort in the soft linens. As sleep tugged at her consciousness, her mind seethed with curses aimed at William. She pondered his unexpected return from military service. Could his sudden appearance be tied to some trouble involving Sylvia? Indeed, Renee's suspicions weren't unfounded. William's return had everything to do with Sylvia. The moment he was discharged, he'd tried reaching out to Renee, only to be met with silence. His inquiries led him to discover her recent escapades, including the escorts she'd taken to keeping company. In a mix of rage and desperation, he had stormed the bar where she frequented, dragged her away, and then rushed to attend to Sylvia. Meanwhile, at the hospital, Sylvia sat uncomfortably as the doctor concluded his examination. "Ma'am, aside from some mild anemia, you're perfectly fine. By the way, is this gentleman your husband?" The question caught Sylvia off guard, a flush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. Leaning slightly forward, William questioned, "Doctor, should she be taking any extra precautions? Does she need to avoid any specific foods?" He neither confirmed nor denied, preserving Sylvia's dignity. "Just avoid seafood, particularly crabs. Beyond that, she's free to enjoy whatever she likes. Be grateful she's not constantly battling nausea. She's dealing with morning sickness--consider yourself lucky she can still eat without throwing up." "Got it. Thanks for your help, doctor." William's response was polite, tinged with a sense of relief. William stole a glance at Sylvia after leaving the doctor's office. She was cradling her belly gently, her expression radiant with the glowing joy unique to a first-time mother. He sighed, a whisper barely audible escaping his lips. "Sylvia." "William, I think... I can feel the baby's heartbeat." Sylvia's voice trembled with wonder, her eyes gleaming as they met his. He paused, the weight of his next words pressing down on him. "Sylvia, you should consider terminating the pregnancy." "No!" Her voice cracked, a visceral refusal. Tears instantly welled in her eyes as she implored him, "William, I want this baby. Please, let me keep it. Don't force me to give it up. I can raise this child by myself if I have to..." "And you think you can make this decision to keep the child without my agreement?" The cold, sharp voice of Renee sliced through their conversation. Both Sylvia and William turned to see her at the corner of the corridor, arms folded, her presence like a specter at a feast. Her stance and piercing gaze left no doubt about her stance--she was, after all, William's lawful wife, and her words carried the weight of her position. Chapter 4 Confrontation The moment Sylvia laid eyes on Renee, her heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively darted behind William, like a child seeking shelter from a nightmare. William's expression hardened into a frown as he faced Renee, his voice tinged with disbelief. "What are you doing here?" Renee's shoulders lifted in a casual shrug, her voice dry. "It's a hospital, William. What do you think?" As William's frown carved deeper lines into his forehead, he surveyed Renee from head to toe, searching for any telltale signs of illness but finding none. Taking a bold step forward, Renee's gaze locked onto Sylvia with unsettling intensity. "I heard my husband escorted another woman for a prenatal check-up early this morning. Naturally, as his legal wife, I felt compelled to see for myself." Her eyes, sharp and gleaming, bore into Sylvia's. "Miss Payne, let me be clear--as long as I draw breath, your child will never be acknowledged. Unless..." Her eyes then flicked to William, and she paused, letting the silence stretch before continuing with deliberate calm, "Unless William dares to divorce me. Why don't you ask him if he has the courage to do so?" Would William actually muster the courage to divorce her? Obviously not--otherwise, he wouldn't have made it through three years of this. When Renee was just 20, she declared to her family that she intended to marry William. Even her grandfather, Johnny Carter, who had doted on her since childhood, refused her for the first time. Johnny, a once-formidable retired commander, loomed large in his world, much like Renee's father, who, though steering clear of politics, had carved a significant niche in the business realm. Across the social spectrum, William's father, Eric Mitchell, wielded considerable influence as a high-ranking official in the political echelons. His current stature meant that allying with the Carter family could catapult him to even greater heights. The union between Renee and William was crafted as an unbreakable alliance, a powerful merger with no exits. Once vows were exchanged, the idea of parting ways was off the table. A divorce would not only fracture their personal lives but would also force their influential families into a messy, public tug-of-war, risking a feud that could echo through their elite circles. With Eric poised on the brink of a crucial promotion, he was adamant: divorce between his son and daughter-in-law was simply not an option. During the earlier days of their marriage, Renee had poured her heart into nurturing the union, but her efforts soon revealed themselves to be fruitless endeavors. Despite chasing William's affection for five years before she managed to marry him, his feelings remained elusive; not even the legal bond of marriage could spark affection in him. Faced with this reality, Renee suggested a pragmatic solution that they would continue to project the image of a devoted couple publicly and during familial gatherings, while privately, they would lead separate lives, each cloaked in their own solitude. With William being in the army for most of it, there wasn't much pretending needed anyway. Yet, one thing still baffled Renee--whenever William returned from the army, he would spend endless nights in bed with her, refusing to stop until she gave in. It was simply strange--he had ensured Sylvia lived close to his base in Stotta, so why did he still look like he hadn't touch any woman in forever? Renee guessed it was due to Sylvia's frail condition--William probably didn't want to strain her too much. What a fucking bastard! He pampered his lover like a queen while treating Renee like absolute shit. The sight of Sylvia tucked behind William sent a sharp, unexpected pang through Renee's chest. "What's wrong with you?" William's question sliced through the tension, but Renee's mocking laugh dismissed it, her disdain palpable. "William, I'm getting rid of Sylvia's baby right now. Are you going to try and stop me?" Her challenge hung heavy in the air, her words sharp as shards of glass. Their recent quarrel had left a chilly void between them. William had slipped away at dawn, his departure marked by a stinging silence. And then, the call from Ryland had come, twisting the knife deeper--William had escorted Sylvia to the obstetrics department for a prenatal checkup. The scandal, simmering just beneath the surface, threatened to boil over, exposing Renee to ridicule. "No! William, please, not my baby..." Sylvia's voice quavered, her fingers clutching William's sleeve as if it were her last lifeline. Her eyes, wide and pleading, searched his face for any sign of reassurance. But William remained eerily silent, his gaze unyieldingly locked on Renee's cold eyes. "William..." Sylvia's voice broke, terror lacing her whisper. She gripped his arm tighter, her plea more desperate. "I can't let go of this baby, William. Please, I need your help." "shut up!" The sharpness in Renee's voice cut through the tense air. In a swift, harsh motion, she raised her hand and delivered a stinging slap across Sylvia's face. The sound echoed, a chilling smack that left a vivid red imprint on Sylvia's pale cheek. "You don't have a say here, Sylvia," Renee hissed, her voice dripping with disdain. From the other end of the corridor, another voice challenged the oppressive silence, its tone imbued with an undeniable authority. "Is that so? And do I have a voice in this matter?" All eyes turned toward the newcomer. Her presence was commanding, her attire simple yet exuding an elegance that spoke of bespoke tailoring--clearly, she was a woman of significant stature. "Mom?" Chapter 5 As You Wish "Mrs. Mitchell..." Upon spotting William's mother, Esme Mitchell, Sylvia's eyes lit up with a flicker of desperate hope. She darted forward, throwing her arms around Esme in a tight embrace. Tears cascaded down her cheeks, painting her as a tragic heroine consumed by sorrow--an image that could melt even the coldest heart. It was no surprise that even William, with his usual stoic demeanor, found his resolve weakening under Sylvia's poignant display. Renee, observing from a distance, knew she lacked the flair for such dramatic expressions. "No need to worry, Sylvia. I'll protect you," Esme assured the younger woman, her tone warm and steady. "Mom, please, let's not escalate this," William interjected, his expression tense with concern. Around Esme, he often felt like he had no control. "William, if I hadn't shown up, would you have just stood by after Renee's outburst? I know I might have turned a blind eye before, but now, with Sylvia carrying your child--a new member of the Mitchell family on the way--can you really afford to let Renee act unchecked?" Esme's tone was both accusing and protective. At the mention of the baby being another Mitchell, Sylvia's eyes dropped, her joy of coming motherhood shadowed by the weight of those words. William shot a brief, complicated look at Sylvia, his face unreadable. "I can handle this, Mom," he stated flatly, his voice laced with frustration. "And how exactly would you handle it? By watching as Renee lashes out at Sylvia and doing nothing?" Esme countered sharply, her frustration mirroring her son's but for different reasons. Renee stood her ground, her voice a mixture of irony and resolve as she addressed Esme. "I'm your daughter-in-law, William's one and only legal wife. No matter how influential your family is, you wouldn't dare commit bigamy, would you?" Esme bristled, her response sharp and clipped. "Enough of your bullshit!" "Bullshit? Is that what you call them?" Renee shot back, her tone rising slightly with indignation. "It was indeed I who pursued William initially, but over the years, both I and my family have shouldered immense burdens to prop up your family's stature. And now, you wish to replace me with Sylvia? Did you even bother to consult the other members of the Mitchell family about your plans?" As she turned her gaze towards Sylvia, Renee's eyes flashed with contempt. "To even mention Sylvia in the same breath as me is laughable." "Renee, that's enough," William interjected, his voice icy and stern. Esme, emboldened by William's admonition, pressed on, her tone dripping with disdain. "William, did you hear her? This is not how a sophisticated heiress should behave. She lacks the basic decorum expected of her status. I've always said it--Renee is too stubborn and impulsive for our family. You should never have married her. Remember how I opposed it from the start?" But Renee wasn't fazed. Instead, she laughed heartily, a sound rich with scorn and amusement. "Indeed, a home-wrecker must be so sophisticated and possess impeccable manners," she said sarcastically. Deep down, Renee knew she was the one who had come between William and Sylvia. Originally, Sylvia's family had fallen into dire straits, and the Mitchell family, due to their precarious position, could not offer direct help. It was then that William had turned to Renee, who had been ardently pursuing him for five years. For the past five years, William had all but ignored Renee, treating her affection as if it were invisible. Renee, ever the hopeful pursuer, tirelessly chased after his fleeting attention. Ironically, the first time he sought her out wasn't for romance--it was to plead on behalf of Sylvia. Renee's disdain for Sylvia stretched back to their childhood days, a bitter rivalry that festered over the years. Thus, when William asked for her help for Sylvia, Renee seized the opportunity to turn the tables. She threw the notion of marriage at him like a challenge, expecting him to waver. But to her shock, he consented immediately, his compliance cutting her deeply. It was a stark, painful reminder of Sylvia's significance to him. Sylvia, the perpetual thorn in Renee's side, had been a constant source of agony since she became William's wife. Lost in these brooding thoughts, Renee was then jolted back to reality by a sharp slap. Her head whipped around, eyes blazing with fury, to find Esme standing there, her expression unyielding. "This slap is for Sylvia," Esme declared firmly. "Renee, don't think you can torment her just because she's an orphan and vulnerable." "Mom! Why the hell did you do that?" William interjected, stepping in front of Renee protectively. But Renee wasn't grateful for his defense. Instead, she scoffed, her laughter tinged with bitterness, "Oh, so I'm the bad guy now? Fine. Let it be as you wish." In a swift, fluid motion, Renee charged forward, her fingers entwined in Sylvia's hair as she delivered a stinging slap across her cheek. Her actions were fierce and immediate--Renee never hesitated to settle scores right then and there, refusing to suffer any slight quietly. "She may lack family, but I refuse to let that girl trample over the dignity of the Carter family!" Renee declared with fiery conviction. Despite Esme's frantic attempts to calm the storm, she was powerless against Renee's relentless fury. Raised with strict discipline, Esme was the polar opposite of Renee. And there was Sylvia, who had always been gentle and unassuming. Renee, with her commanding presence, could easily overpower them both. "William! Are you seriously just going to watch? Are you just going to let her go on a rampage like that?" Esme's voice cracked under the strain, her plea laced with desperation. Renee's eyes finally snapped to William, who had remained a silent observer. With his skills, he could have intervened at any moment, preventing the assault with ease. Why had he chosen to remain passive when she struck Sylvia? Lost in her thoughts, Renee barely registered the sensation of a strong arm encircling her waist. In an instant, she was lifted from the floor, her feet dangling helplessly. William, treating her with no more regard than one would a sack of potatoes, carried her away. His voice was calm, yet it carried an unyielding firmness. "Mom, I can handle my affairs. Stay out of this. I won't say it again," he stated decisively, before carrying Renee back towards their home. &9&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/70314322-fb_contact-e	Lime novel-E	https://www.facebook.com/100090637249756/	361	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more		fbweb.moboreader.net	IMAGE		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/70314322-fb_contact-enp133_6-250225-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=798859118295947&exdata=F5168A8F4492BA0F8CC38E08FF80C005B3BD1708CD191427	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481261512_1645011482772301_8017617424154677542_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=1&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=7ZnisMBSkRMQ7kNvgHPSfWe&_nc_oc=AdiMy5L2JB9GViwTQTjtir_6XNrHLCmzLXjfZRgcjN5r5ucsyRzmtoIsDfJ2nZ5CboUE5Oyq-6fLY0z6KMYU4eq2&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AKKs2JOQirhir41eNtIzQ_6&oh=00_AYDsZ94Sa5HKGuocK9gPwerLTDrccSuk5z8GsDlCnKFOrQ&oe=67CBB425	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Lime novel-E	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,055	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	Read next chapter👉	Three years of passion without love. But after every night in bed, he took his first love to her checkups. She struck back--filed for divorce and hired a model who looked just like him... for wild, endless nights! ===== Chapter 1 Carry On With Whatever This Is A military jeep thundered down the bustling bar street, its presence like a storm on the horizon. The jeep, adorned with a high-ranking officer's insignia and a distinctive license plate, commanded the attention of all it passed. It came to a jarring halt in front of the neon-lit Serendipity bar, its brakes screeching a piercing challenge to the surrounding nightlife. The door of the jeep opened and then slammed shut with a force that reverberated through the silent evening, mimicking the sharp report of a gunshot. A man emerged, his camouflage uniform blending oddly with the urban setting. His stern expression and the firm set of his jaw added to his daunting presence as he stepped into the colorful chaos of the bar. Inside, the neon lights cast an otherworldly glow on his face, the shadows playing across his features as he moved with a purposeful stride. The bar was alive with the vibrant beats of electrifying music and the murmur of drunken chatter--yet he seemed to carry a chilling silence around him, isolating him from the revelry. At the bar counter, Ryland Flynn was engrossed in a flirtatious conversation with the bargirl. He looked up as the military man entered, the haze of alcohol clearing swiftly from his eyes. The imposing figure made a beeline for the elevator, and Ryland, sensing urgency, scrambled off his stool to intercept him. "Mr. Mitchell... What brings you here to Serendipity tonight?" Ryland's voice faltered under the icy gaze of the man. The man's eyes narrowed, his voice resonant and commanding as he demanded, "Where's Renee?" "I... I believe she's at her home tonight," Ryland stammered, struggling to maintain his composure under the piercing scrutiny. Without hesitation, the man pressed the elevator button for the top floor, his action sharp and decisive. "You have 30 seconds to alert her," he stated curtly. Ryland's heart raced as panic gripped him. He knew that fabricating a story was pointless now. With trembling hands, he pulled out his phone and dialed Renee Carter's number right in front of the imposing figure looming over him. The phone buzzed unanswered after three persistent rings, prompting Ryland to switch to WhatsApp in a frantic rush. Opting for a voice message, he pressed the microphone icon and whispered urgently, "Renee, your husband is here to see you; he's on his way up in the elevator." His attempt to keep his voice hushed failed miserably; the words echoed clearly in the tight space of the elevator. An icy chuckle emanated from behind Ryland, sending shivers down his spine as the elevator dinged open. Sweat started to bead on his forehead, each drop a testament to his growing dread. The man stepped out with a determined stride, heading straight for the VIP room. Ryland, caught in a web of fear, trailed meekly behind, his steps hesitant and his mind racing for solutions. Stopping abruptly at the door, the man turned slightly. Ryland, mustering a sliver of courage, spoke up with a shaky voice. "Mr. Mitchell, I assure you, she isn't here." "Last chance--open up, or I'll kick this door in myself." "Please, believe me. She..." Ryland tried again, his voice faltering. "Three," the man stated evenly, his tone leaving no room for argument as the countdown commenced. "Fine," Ryland murmured, his voice a strained whisper as he fumbled with the room key, a sigh escaping him. His hands trembled slightly--caught in a bind, he dared not cross a member of the formidable Mitchell family. As the door creaked open, the man's eyes narrowed, his expression hardened into the stern, unyielding mask of a seasoned military veteran. Ryland stole a brief glance inside and sharply inhaled, quickly diverting his gaze to safeguard his own wellbeing, positioning himself squarely in the doorway, observing from a cautious distance. Inside, Renee reclined languidly on the sofa, her figure draped in a vibrant red slip dress that made a bold statement, flanked by two young male escorts. Their bare torsos were adorned with the unmistakable traces of passion, scratches carved into their skin like echoes of their heated encounters. The abrupt noise of the door's movement caused the escorts to stiffen, their muscles tensing as they beheld the daunting figure looming at the entrance. In sharp contrast, Renee exuded an air of nonchalant ease. Slowly opening her eyes, her lips curled into a taunting smirk upon sighting the man. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she regarded him through half-lidded eyes, her smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Relax, boys, it's not a police raid," she teased, her voice dripping with disdain. "Allow me to introduce him--this is my husband, the esteemed William Mitchell of the Mitchell family. You've surely heard of him, haven't you?" As she spoke, her gaze flitted over to William, observing his stoic visage with a provocative sneer. "Mr. Mitchell, to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit tonight? Aren't you supposed to be getting busy with your childhood sweetheart instead of wasting time here with us?" William approached with deliberate steps, the chill of the night air clinging to his camouflage jacket, mirroring the icy reserve on his face. He seated himself on the sofa across from her, crossing his legs with a deliberate nonchalance. Smirking insincerely, he waved a hand. "Don't mind me--carry on with whatever this is." Chapter 2 Disappointment Isn't An Option Here The two escorts were already visibly tense, their anxiety written all over their faces, and the mere mention of William's name sent shivers down their spines. Renee, her head bowed slightly, felt a surge of anger well up within her. Yet, she masked it expertly behind a veil of serenity and commanded, "You heard him, didn't you? Now that Mr. Mitchell is in the mood, you'd better be at your best--disappointment isn't an option here." She then raised her head, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous spark, and flashed a coquettish wink at William. "Mr. Mitchell, consider this an invaluable lesson. You treat the bed like a battlefield--my two companions, on the other hand, know how to make a woman feel cherished. After all, we aren't your foot soldiers. While I might endure your roughness, think of your beloved. She's far too delicate for such treatment, don't you think?" William responded with nothing more than a frigid glance. Reclining against the back of the sofa, he struck a match with a sharp flick, lighting his cigarette. A veil of smoke soon enveloped him, masking his inscrutable expression. Renee's irritation spiked at his detached demeanor; he looked almost wounded, though she couldn't fathom what could possibly dent his icy exterior. Impatiently, she snapped at the escorts, "Well? What are you waiting for? At Mr. Mitchell's request, show him what you've got--who knows, he might actually pick up a thing or two." With a defiant flair, Renee tugged at the straps of her slip dress, letting them slip down her shoulders. The men jolted with surprise, their eyes darting involuntarily towards William, whose gaze was icy and unforgiving. Instinctively, they squeezed their eyes shut. "Uh, Ms. Carter... maybe it's best if we go." As they stooped to gather their scattered clothing from the floor, Renee fixed them with a frosty stare that rooted them in place. "I've told you already. Disappointment isn't an option here," she stated, her voice sharp as the winter air. Her attention turned back to William just in time to catch a camouflage jacket sailing through the air, draping over her with precision, obscuring her view. Before she could shrug off the jacket, she was abruptly swept up by two robust hands. "William! What on earth are you doing?!" she exclaimed, her voice muffled under the fabric. Blind to his expression, she could only sense the intense, ominous aura radiating from him. Effortlessly, he slung her over his shoulder, a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his fingertips. In a swift motion, he extinguished the cigarette on the back of one of the men, eliciting a sharp yelp. Simultaneously, his boot connected with the other man's knee, causing a stifled groan of agony to fill the room. Ryland, who had been nervously lingering by the door, stepped forward in alarm. "Mr. Mitchell, please, let's resolve this peacefully," he pleaded, his voice quivering. "Get out of my way!" William's command was a low rumble, more animal than human, that sent Ryland stumbling back in fear. Helplessly, he watched as William maneuvered Renee into the back of the jeep, her protests fading into the night. The engine roared as the vehicle surged forward, a reflection of the driver's burning temper. As Renee collapsed onto the plush, crimson bedspread, the effects of the evening's alcohol started to fade. Her eyes fluttered open, fixing on the ornate bed in the master bedroom--an emblem of union they had never truly shared since their marriage. The irony stung, blending seamlessly with her sorrow. Their three-year union was not a sexless one. The rare times William came home from his military duties, their encounters, though heated and passionate, were just fleeting moments of intimacy. Yet, their living arrangements spoke volumes--they maintained separate rooms, with this room remaining untouched by either. But tonight, William's demeanor was unhinged, as he dragged her into this "sacred" space and threw her onto the bed without hesitation. "William, what the hell are you thinking?" Renee gasped, her voice a mix of bewilderment and fear. She barely managed to prop herself up when he loomed over her, his gaze wild and red-rimmed. "Get ready, because I'm gonna fuck you until you're begging for more," he declared, his words seething through clenched teeth as he ruthlessly ripped her dress strap by strap. "So, Renee, you were saying I was too rough, is that it?" he huffed, his breath hot against her ear, his teeth lightly grazing her earlobe in a chilling caress. "I'm gonna fuck you nice and easy tonight--make you feel every damn second of it." Trapped beneath his weight, Renee writhed futilely, her struggles inadvertently drawing them even closer. As he tenderly grazed her earlobe with a punitive lick, his voice cut through the air, icy and stark. "Remember, you're a married woman." Just then, the shrill ring of his phone pierced the tense air. Although he wanted to dismiss it, the insistent buzzing from his pocket--just as he was about to undress--compelled him to reach for his phone with visible impatience. Recognizing the caller ID, his expression softened slightly. With a wry, self-deprecating smirk, Renee peeked at his phone screen. Unsurprisingly, it was his childhood sweetheart calling. Her voice dripped with irony as she retorted, "Seems you've forgotten you're a married man." His eyes flickered to her, but before he could gauge her next move, Renee snatched his phone and answered the call with deliberate calm. "Hello, Sylvia," she called out evenly. There was a brief pause as Sylvia Payne processed the unexpected voice. "Renee... hi," she stammered, her words stumbling over the shock. Upon catching William's resigned look, Renee's smile twisted into a sly grin. "Yeah, it's me. Sorry, but William and I are a little busy right now. You know how horny couples get after some time apart--it's like a damn craving that needs to be satisfied. He's got his mouth all over me, so I doubt he'll be able to answer his phone anytime soon." Chapter 3 A Fucking Liar Renee's words might have struck a nerve or instilled fear in Sylvia, who fell silent, stewing in her thoughts for a lengthy pause. Just as Renee braced herself for another onslaught of bold accusations, William intervened, snatching the phone from her hand. His kiss, fierce and claiming, then stole her breath away. William wasn't one to make empty promises--he showed her exactly what gentleness could be. After what felt like an eternity of torment, Renee broke down in tears, pleading for mercy--only then did he finally relent. Drained from the ordeal, she succumbed to sleep almost instantly. Throughout the night, she drifted in a half-conscious daze, vaguely aware of William leaving the bed. By the time morning crept in, Renee awoke alone. She lay there on the vast bed that held both fresh and lingering memories, her mind adrift in contemplation. She turned towards the curtains, tightly drawn, blurring the lines between late morning rays and the onset of dusk. A wave of weariness washed over her as she reached for her phone, her body still aching from the previous night's passions. That was when she saw it--a post from Sylvia on Instagram, unmistakably capturing William from behind, engrossed in cooking. The realization hit with the sharpness of a knife. In a fit of rage, Renee hurled her phone against the wall. Despite the force, the device miraculously survived the impact. "That fucking liar! That cheating piece of shit!" she snarled, fists clenched in anger. Lifting the blanket, she tried to stand, but the lingering soreness made every movement a struggle. That scumbag had really done a number on her. Yet, he felt no pain at all--if anything, he was in high spirits as he happily went to cook for his lover. Her anger simmered, fueled by each throbbing ache and the betrayal freshly unveiled. Sylvia's post was a glaring provocation. At that moment, a hesitant knock rapped at the door, followed by the maid's timid voice filtering through. "Mrs. Mitchell, are you up? Mr. Mitchell had me prepare something to help with your hangover." Renee seethed with annoyance. Now that he was out cavorting with his mistress, why even bother sending the maid? She inhaled sharply, trying to quell the rising storm within her. "I'm much better now, thank you. No need for that," Renee called out, her voice strained. Yet, the maid lingered at the doorway, her tone soft and persistent. "Mrs. Mitchell, Mr. Mitchell also specifically prepared a pill for you. Would you like to come out and take it?" Confused and a bit curious, Renee cracked open the door and peered out. "What pill?" she asked, her brow furrowed in suspicion. "You know, for after last night..." The maid trailed off delicately. That was the last straw. Renee's control snapped like a rope stretched too tight for too long. She was teetering dangerously on the edge of an outburst. Over the past three years of their marriage, Renee had diligently taken a contraceptive pill after each of their intimate encounters. The thought of starting a family hadn't yet appealed to her; she wasn't ready to embrace motherhood. The routine was simple when she managed it herself, but it felt different, almost intrusive, when William had the pills delivered to her. "I'm not taking it!" Renee declared defiantly, her voice thick with resolve. "Tell that scumbag that if I get pregnant, I'll have the baby! Let's see how he deals with that!" Her words echoed sharply as she slammed the door with a resounding thud, the sound reverberating off the walls. The moment the maid stepped out, she started digging through the room for the pills she bought before, her remark earlier nothing more than a bitter jab. Exhausted, she collapsed onto the plush bed, her body twisting and turning as she tried to find comfort in the soft linens. As sleep tugged at her consciousness, her mind seethed with curses aimed at William. She pondered his unexpected return from military service. Could his sudden appearance be tied to some trouble involving Sylvia? Indeed, Renee's suspicions weren't unfounded. William's return had everything to do with Sylvia. The moment he was discharged, he'd tried reaching out to Renee, only to be met with silence. His inquiries led him to discover her recent escapades, including the escorts she'd taken to keeping company. In a mix of rage and desperation, he had stormed the bar where she frequented, dragged her away, and then rushed to attend to Sylvia. Meanwhile, at the hospital, Sylvia sat uncomfortably as the doctor concluded his examination. "Ma'am, aside from some mild anemia, you're perfectly fine. By the way, is this gentleman your husband?" The question caught Sylvia off guard, a flush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. Leaning slightly forward, William questioned, "Doctor, should she be taking any extra precautions? Does she need to avoid any specific foods?" He neither confirmed nor denied, preserving Sylvia's dignity. "Just avoid seafood, particularly crabs. Beyond that, she's free to enjoy whatever she likes. Be grateful she's not constantly battling nausea. She's dealing with morning sickness--consider yourself lucky she can still eat without throwing up." "Got it. Thanks for your help, doctor." William's response was polite, tinged with a sense of relief. William stole a glance at Sylvia after leaving the doctor's office. She was cradling her belly gently, her expression radiant with the glowing joy unique to a first-time mother. He sighed, a whisper barely audible escaping his lips. "Sylvia." "William, I think... I can feel the baby's heartbeat." Sylvia's voice trembled with wonder, her eyes gleaming as they met his. He paused, the weight of his next words pressing down on him. "Sylvia, you should consider terminating the pregnancy." "No!" Her voice cracked, a visceral refusal. Tears instantly welled in her eyes as she implored him, "William, I want this baby. Please, let me keep it. Don't force me to give it up. I can raise this child by myself if I have to..." "And you think you can make this decision to keep the child without my agreement?" The cold, sharp voice of Renee sliced through their conversation. Both Sylvia and William turned to see her at the corner of the corridor, arms folded, her presence like a specter at a feast. Her stance and piercing gaze left no doubt about her stance--she was, after all, William's lawful wife, and her words carried the weight of her position. Chapter 4 Confrontation The moment Sylvia laid eyes on Renee, her heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively darted behind William, like a child seeking shelter from a nightmare. William's expression hardened into a frown as he faced Renee, his voice tinged with disbelief. "What are you doing here?" Renee's shoulders lifted in a casual shrug, her voice dry. "It's a hospital, William. What do you think?" As William's frown carved deeper lines into his forehead, he surveyed Renee from head to toe, searching for any telltale signs of illness but finding none. Taking a bold step forward, Renee's gaze locked onto Sylvia with unsettling intensity. "I heard my husband escorted another woman for a prenatal check-up early this morning. Naturally, as his legal wife, I felt compelled to see for myself." Her eyes, sharp and gleaming, bore into Sylvia's. "Miss Payne, let me be clear--as long as I draw breath, your child will never be acknowledged. Unless..." Her eyes then flicked to William, and she paused, letting the silence stretch before continuing with deliberate calm, "Unless William dares to divorce me. Why don't you ask him if he has the courage to do so?" Would William actually muster the courage to divorce her? Obviously not--otherwise, he wouldn't have made it through three years of this. When Renee was just 20, she declared to her family that she intended to marry William. Even her grandfather, Johnny Carter, who had doted on her since childhood, refused her for the first time. Johnny, a once-formidable retired commander, loomed large in his world, much like Renee's father, who, though steering clear of politics, had carved a significant niche in the business realm. Across the social spectrum, William's father, Eric Mitchell, wielded considerable influence as a high-ranking official in the political echelons. His current stature meant that allying with the Carter family could catapult him to even greater heights. The union between Renee and William was crafted as an unbreakable alliance, a powerful merger with no exits. Once vows were exchanged, the idea of parting ways was off the table. A divorce would not only fracture their personal lives but would also force their influential families into a messy, public tug-of-war, risking a feud that could echo through their elite circles. With Eric poised on the brink of a crucial promotion, he was adamant: divorce between his son and daughter-in-law was simply not an option. During the earlier days of their marriage, Renee had poured her heart into nurturing the union, but her efforts soon revealed themselves to be fruitless endeavors. Despite chasing William's affection for five years before she managed to marry him, his feelings remained elusive; not even the legal bond of marriage could spark affection in him. Faced with this reality, Renee suggested a pragmatic solution that they would continue to project the image of a devoted couple publicly and during familial gatherings, while privately, they would lead separate lives, each cloaked in their own solitude. With William being in the army for most of it, there wasn't much pretending needed anyway. Yet, one thing still baffled Renee--whenever William returned from the army, he would spend endless nights in bed with her, refusing to stop until she gave in. It was simply strange--he had ensured Sylvia lived close to his base in Stotta, so why did he still look like he hadn't touch any woman in forever? Renee guessed it was due to Sylvia's frail condition--William probably didn't want to strain her too much. What a fucking bastard! He pampered his lover like a queen while treating Renee like absolute shit. The sight of Sylvia tucked behind William sent a sharp, unexpected pang through Renee's chest. "What's wrong with you?" William's question sliced through the tension, but Renee's mocking laugh dismissed it, her disdain palpable. "William, I'm getting rid of Sylvia's baby right now. Are you going to try and stop me?" Her challenge hung heavy in the air, her words sharp as shards of glass. Their recent quarrel had left a chilly void between them. William had slipped away at dawn, his departure marked by a stinging silence. And then, the call from Ryland had come, twisting the knife deeper--William had escorted Sylvia to the obstetrics department for a prenatal checkup. The scandal, simmering just beneath the surface, threatened to boil over, exposing Renee to ridicule. "No! William, please, not my baby..." Sylvia's voice quavered, her fingers clutching William's sleeve as if it were her last lifeline. Her eyes, wide and pleading, searched his face for any sign of reassurance. But William remained eerily silent, his gaze unyieldingly locked on Renee's cold eyes. "William..." Sylvia's voice broke, terror lacing her whisper. She gripped his arm tighter, her plea more desperate. "I can't let go of this baby, William. Please, I need your help." "shut up!" The sharpness in Renee's voice cut through the tense air. In a swift, harsh motion, she raised her hand and delivered a stinging slap across Sylvia's face. The sound echoed, a chilling smack that left a vivid red imprint on Sylvia's pale cheek. "You don't have a say here, Sylvia," Renee hissed, her voice dripping with disdain. From the other end of the corridor, another voice challenged the oppressive silence, its tone imbued with an undeniable authority. "Is that so? And do I have a voice in this matter?" All eyes turned toward the newcomer. Her presence was commanding, her attire simple yet exuding an elegance that spoke of bespoke tailoring--clearly, she was a woman of significant stature. "Mom?" Chapter 5 As You Wish "Mrs. Mitchell..." Upon spotting William's mother, Esme Mitchell, Sylvia's eyes lit up with a flicker of desperate hope. She darted forward, throwing her arms around Esme in a tight embrace. Tears cascaded down her cheeks, painting her as a tragic heroine consumed by sorrow--an image that could melt even the coldest heart. It was no surprise that even William, with his usual stoic demeanor, found his resolve weakening under Sylvia's poignant display. Renee, observing from a distance, knew she lacked the flair for such dramatic expressions. "No need to worry, Sylvia. I'll protect you," Esme assured the younger woman, her tone warm and steady. "Mom, please, let's not escalate this," William interjected, his expression tense with concern. Around Esme, he often felt like he had no control. "William, if I hadn't shown up, would you have just stood by after Renee's outburst? I know I might have turned a blind eye before, but now, with Sylvia carrying your child--a new member of the Mitchell family on the way--can you really afford to let Renee act unchecked?" Esme's tone was both accusing and protective. At the mention of the baby being another Mitchell, Sylvia's eyes dropped, her joy of coming motherhood shadowed by the weight of those words. William shot a brief, complicated look at Sylvia, his face unreadable. "I can handle this, Mom," he stated flatly, his voice laced with frustration. "And how exactly would you handle it? By watching as Renee lashes out at Sylvia and doing nothing?" Esme countered sharply, her frustration mirroring her son's but for different reasons. Renee stood her ground, her voice a mixture of irony and resolve as she addressed Esme. "I'm your daughter-in-law, William's one and only legal wife. No matter how influential your family is, you wouldn't dare commit bigamy, would you?" Esme bristled, her response sharp and clipped. "Enough of your bullshit!" "Bullshit? Is that what you call them?" Renee shot back, her tone rising slightly with indignation. "It was indeed I who pursued William initially, but over the years, both I and my family have shouldered immense burdens to prop up your family's stature. And now, you wish to replace me with Sylvia? Did you even bother to consult the other members of the Mitchell family about your plans?" As she turned her gaze towards Sylvia, Renee's eyes flashed with contempt. "To even mention Sylvia in the same breath as me is laughable." "Renee, that's enough," William interjected, his voice icy and stern. Esme, emboldened by William's admonition, pressed on, her tone dripping with disdain. "William, did you hear her? This is not how a sophisticated heiress should behave. She lacks the basic decorum expected of her status. I've always said it--Renee is too stubborn and impulsive for our family. You should never have married her. Remember how I opposed it from the start?" But Renee wasn't fazed. Instead, she laughed heartily, a sound rich with scorn and amusement. "Indeed, a home-wrecker must be so sophisticated and possess impeccable manners," she said sarcastically. Deep down, Renee knew she was the one who had come between William and Sylvia. Originally, Sylvia's family had fallen into dire straits, and the Mitchell family, due to their precarious position, could not offer direct help. It was then that William had turned to Renee, who had been ardently pursuing him for five years. For the past five years, William had all but ignored Renee, treating her affection as if it were invisible. Renee, ever the hopeful pursuer, tirelessly chased after his fleeting attention. Ironically, the first time he sought her out wasn't for romance--it was to plead on behalf of Sylvia. Renee's disdain for Sylvia stretched back to their childhood days, a bitter rivalry that festered over the years. Thus, when William asked for her help for Sylvia, Renee seized the opportunity to turn the tables. She threw the notion of marriage at him like a challenge, expecting him to waver. But to her shock, he consented immediately, his compliance cutting her deeply. It was a stark, painful reminder of Sylvia's significance to him. Sylvia, the perpetual thorn in Renee's side, had been a constant source of agony since she became William's wife. Lost in these brooding thoughts, Renee was then jolted back to reality by a sharp slap. Her head whipped around, eyes blazing with fury, to find Esme standing there, her expression unyielding. "This slap is for Sylvia," Esme declared firmly. "Renee, don't think you can torment her just because she's an orphan and vulnerable." "Mom! Why the hell did you do that?" William interjected, stepping in front of Renee protectively. But Renee wasn't grateful for his defense. Instead, she scoffed, her laughter tinged with bitterness, "Oh, so I'm the bad guy now? Fine. Let it be as you wish." In a swift, fluid motion, Renee charged forward, her fingers entwined in Sylvia's hair as she delivered a stinging slap across her cheek. Her actions were fierce and immediate--Renee never hesitated to settle scores right then and there, refusing to suffer any slight quietly. "She may lack family, but I refuse to let that girl trample over the dignity of the Carter family!" Renee declared with fiery conviction. Despite Esme's frantic attempts to calm the storm, she was powerless against Renee's relentless fury. Raised with strict discipline, Esme was the polar opposite of Renee. And there was Sylvia, who had always been gentle and unassuming. Renee, with her commanding presence, could easily overpower them both. "William! Are you seriously just going to watch? Are you just going to let her go on a rampage like that?" Esme's voice cracked under the strain, her plea laced with desperation. Renee's eyes finally snapped to William, who had remained a silent observer. With his skills, he could have intervened at any moment, preventing the assault with ease. Why had he chosen to remain passive when she struck Sylvia? Lost in her thoughts, Renee barely registered the sensation of a strong arm encircling her waist. In an instant, she was lifted from the floor, her feet dangling helplessly. William, treating her with no more regard than one would a sack of potatoes, carried her away. His voice was calm, yet it carried an unyielding firmness. "Mom, I can handle my affairs. Stay out of this. I won't say it again," he stated decisively, before carrying Renee back towards their home. &9&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/70314322-fb_contact-e	Lime novel-E	https://www.facebook.com/100090637249756/	361	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more		fbweb.moboreader.net	VIDEO		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/70314322-fb_contact-enp133_6-250225-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=798859118295947&exdata=F5168A8F4492BA0F040DFFDEAEC9C0219D403AAEB6BF99C8	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481165691_1296236481633561_5284433406380241723_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=OE2g61pI7_gQ7kNvgGMw3yB&_nc_oc=AdhXv3U2HKZPsfTaZAF5dWPxDniA0l21l3_AaMkPyaSyTeR4QvwRL--aE_CXQqz5APnvTyirb9cJrV6XpzDu4pxD&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AKKs2JOQirhir41eNtIzQ_6&oh=00_AYAK4VBXDwm0J0rKnQjRckiKdejg6NAIHgPvGy7DnrE5kQ&oe=67CB8705	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Lime novel-E	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,058	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	Read next chapter👉	Three years of passion without love. But after every night in bed, he took his first love to her checkups. She struck back--filed for divorce and hired a model who looked just like him... for wild, endless nights! ===== Chapter 1 Carry On With Whatever This Is A military jeep thundered down the bustling bar street, its presence like a storm on the horizon. The jeep, adorned with a high-ranking officer's insignia and a distinctive license plate, commanded the attention of all it passed. It came to a jarring halt in front of the neon-lit Serendipity bar, its brakes screeching a piercing challenge to the surrounding nightlife. The door of the jeep opened and then slammed shut with a force that reverberated through the silent evening, mimicking the sharp report of a gunshot. A man emerged, his camouflage uniform blending oddly with the urban setting. His stern expression and the firm set of his jaw added to his daunting presence as he stepped into the colorful chaos of the bar. Inside, the neon lights cast an otherworldly glow on his face, the shadows playing across his features as he moved with a purposeful stride. The bar was alive with the vibrant beats of electrifying music and the murmur of drunken chatter--yet he seemed to carry a chilling silence around him, isolating him from the revelry. At the bar counter, Ryland Flynn was engrossed in a flirtatious conversation with the bargirl. He looked up as the military man entered, the haze of alcohol clearing swiftly from his eyes. The imposing figure made a beeline for the elevator, and Ryland, sensing urgency, scrambled off his stool to intercept him. "Mr. Mitchell... What brings you here to Serendipity tonight?" Ryland's voice faltered under the icy gaze of the man. The man's eyes narrowed, his voice resonant and commanding as he demanded, "Where's Renee?" "I... I believe she's at her home tonight," Ryland stammered, struggling to maintain his composure under the piercing scrutiny. Without hesitation, the man pressed the elevator button for the top floor, his action sharp and decisive. "You have 30 seconds to alert her," he stated curtly. Ryland's heart raced as panic gripped him. He knew that fabricating a story was pointless now. With trembling hands, he pulled out his phone and dialed Renee Carter's number right in front of the imposing figure looming over him. The phone buzzed unanswered after three persistent rings, prompting Ryland to switch to WhatsApp in a frantic rush. Opting for a voice message, he pressed the microphone icon and whispered urgently, "Renee, your husband is here to see you; he's on his way up in the elevator." His attempt to keep his voice hushed failed miserably; the words echoed clearly in the tight space of the elevator. An icy chuckle emanated from behind Ryland, sending shivers down his spine as the elevator dinged open. Sweat started to bead on his forehead, each drop a testament to his growing dread. The man stepped out with a determined stride, heading straight for the VIP room. Ryland, caught in a web of fear, trailed meekly behind, his steps hesitant and his mind racing for solutions. Stopping abruptly at the door, the man turned slightly. Ryland, mustering a sliver of courage, spoke up with a shaky voice. "Mr. Mitchell, I assure you, she isn't here." "Last chance--open up, or I'll kick this door in myself." "Please, believe me. She..." Ryland tried again, his voice faltering. "Three," the man stated evenly, his tone leaving no room for argument as the countdown commenced. "Fine," Ryland murmured, his voice a strained whisper as he fumbled with the room key, a sigh escaping him. His hands trembled slightly--caught in a bind, he dared not cross a member of the formidable Mitchell family. As the door creaked open, the man's eyes narrowed, his expression hardened into the stern, unyielding mask of a seasoned military veteran. Ryland stole a brief glance inside and sharply inhaled, quickly diverting his gaze to safeguard his own wellbeing, positioning himself squarely in the doorway, observing from a cautious distance. Inside, Renee reclined languidly on the sofa, her figure draped in a vibrant red slip dress that made a bold statement, flanked by two young male escorts. Their bare torsos were adorned with the unmistakable traces of passion, scratches carved into their skin like echoes of their heated encounters. The abrupt noise of the door's movement caused the escorts to stiffen, their muscles tensing as they beheld the daunting figure looming at the entrance. In sharp contrast, Renee exuded an air of nonchalant ease. Slowly opening her eyes, her lips curled into a taunting smirk upon sighting the man. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she regarded him through half-lidded eyes, her smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Relax, boys, it's not a police raid," she teased, her voice dripping with disdain. "Allow me to introduce him--this is my husband, the esteemed William Mitchell of the Mitchell family. You've surely heard of him, haven't you?" As she spoke, her gaze flitted over to William, observing his stoic visage with a provocative sneer. "Mr. Mitchell, to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit tonight? Aren't you supposed to be getting busy with your childhood sweetheart instead of wasting time here with us?" William approached with deliberate steps, the chill of the night air clinging to his camouflage jacket, mirroring the icy reserve on his face. He seated himself on the sofa across from her, crossing his legs with a deliberate nonchalance. Smirking insincerely, he waved a hand. "Don't mind me--carry on with whatever this is." Chapter 2 Disappointment Isn't An Option Here The two escorts were already visibly tense, their anxiety written all over their faces, and the mere mention of William's name sent shivers down their spines. Renee, her head bowed slightly, felt a surge of anger well up within her. Yet, she masked it expertly behind a veil of serenity and commanded, "You heard him, didn't you? Now that Mr. Mitchell is in the mood, you'd better be at your best--disappointment isn't an option here." She then raised her head, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous spark, and flashed a coquettish wink at William. "Mr. Mitchell, consider this an invaluable lesson. You treat the bed like a battlefield--my two companions, on the other hand, know how to make a woman feel cherished. After all, we aren't your foot soldiers. While I might endure your roughness, think of your beloved. She's far too delicate for such treatment, don't you think?" William responded with nothing more than a frigid glance. Reclining against the back of the sofa, he struck a match with a sharp flick, lighting his cigarette. A veil of smoke soon enveloped him, masking his inscrutable expression. Renee's irritation spiked at his detached demeanor; he looked almost wounded, though she couldn't fathom what could possibly dent his icy exterior. Impatiently, she snapped at the escorts, "Well? What are you waiting for? At Mr. Mitchell's request, show him what you've got--who knows, he might actually pick up a thing or two." With a defiant flair, Renee tugged at the straps of her slip dress, letting them slip down her shoulders. The men jolted with surprise, their eyes darting involuntarily towards William, whose gaze was icy and unforgiving. Instinctively, they squeezed their eyes shut. "Uh, Ms. Carter... maybe it's best if we go." As they stooped to gather their scattered clothing from the floor, Renee fixed them with a frosty stare that rooted them in place. "I've told you already. Disappointment isn't an option here," she stated, her voice sharp as the winter air. Her attention turned back to William just in time to catch a camouflage jacket sailing through the air, draping over her with precision, obscuring her view. Before she could shrug off the jacket, she was abruptly swept up by two robust hands. "William! What on earth are you doing?!" she exclaimed, her voice muffled under the fabric. Blind to his expression, she could only sense the intense, ominous aura radiating from him. Effortlessly, he slung her over his shoulder, a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his fingertips. In a swift motion, he extinguished the cigarette on the back of one of the men, eliciting a sharp yelp. Simultaneously, his boot connected with the other man's knee, causing a stifled groan of agony to fill the room. Ryland, who had been nervously lingering by the door, stepped forward in alarm. "Mr. Mitchell, please, let's resolve this peacefully," he pleaded, his voice quivering. "Get out of my way!" William's command was a low rumble, more animal than human, that sent Ryland stumbling back in fear. Helplessly, he watched as William maneuvered Renee into the back of the jeep, her protests fading into the night. The engine roared as the vehicle surged forward, a reflection of the driver's burning temper. As Renee collapsed onto the plush, crimson bedspread, the effects of the evening's alcohol started to fade. Her eyes fluttered open, fixing on the ornate bed in the master bedroom--an emblem of union they had never truly shared since their marriage. The irony stung, blending seamlessly with her sorrow. Their three-year union was not a sexless one. The rare times William came home from his military duties, their encounters, though heated and passionate, were just fleeting moments of intimacy. Yet, their living arrangements spoke volumes--they maintained separate rooms, with this room remaining untouched by either. But tonight, William's demeanor was unhinged, as he dragged her into this "sacred" space and threw her onto the bed without hesitation. "William, what the hell are you thinking?" Renee gasped, her voice a mix of bewilderment and fear. She barely managed to prop herself up when he loomed over her, his gaze wild and red-rimmed. "Get ready, because I'm gonna fuck you until you're begging for more," he declared, his words seething through clenched teeth as he ruthlessly ripped her dress strap by strap. "So, Renee, you were saying I was too rough, is that it?" he huffed, his breath hot against her ear, his teeth lightly grazing her earlobe in a chilling caress. "I'm gonna fuck you nice and easy tonight--make you feel every damn second of it." Trapped beneath his weight, Renee writhed futilely, her struggles inadvertently drawing them even closer. As he tenderly grazed her earlobe with a punitive lick, his voice cut through the air, icy and stark. "Remember, you're a married woman." Just then, the shrill ring of his phone pierced the tense air. Although he wanted to dismiss it, the insistent buzzing from his pocket--just as he was about to undress--compelled him to reach for his phone with visible impatience. Recognizing the caller ID, his expression softened slightly. With a wry, self-deprecating smirk, Renee peeked at his phone screen. Unsurprisingly, it was his childhood sweetheart calling. Her voice dripped with irony as she retorted, "Seems you've forgotten you're a married man." His eyes flickered to her, but before he could gauge her next move, Renee snatched his phone and answered the call with deliberate calm. "Hello, Sylvia," she called out evenly. There was a brief pause as Sylvia Payne processed the unexpected voice. "Renee... hi," she stammered, her words stumbling over the shock. Upon catching William's resigned look, Renee's smile twisted into a sly grin. "Yeah, it's me. Sorry, but William and I are a little busy right now. You know how horny couples get after some time apart--it's like a damn craving that needs to be satisfied. He's got his mouth all over me, so I doubt he'll be able to answer his phone anytime soon." Chapter 3 A Fucking Liar Renee's words might have struck a nerve or instilled fear in Sylvia, who fell silent, stewing in her thoughts for a lengthy pause. Just as Renee braced herself for another onslaught of bold accusations, William intervened, snatching the phone from her hand. His kiss, fierce and claiming, then stole her breath away. William wasn't one to make empty promises--he showed her exactly what gentleness could be. After what felt like an eternity of torment, Renee broke down in tears, pleading for mercy--only then did he finally relent. Drained from the ordeal, she succumbed to sleep almost instantly. Throughout the night, she drifted in a half-conscious daze, vaguely aware of William leaving the bed. By the time morning crept in, Renee awoke alone. She lay there on the vast bed that held both fresh and lingering memories, her mind adrift in contemplation. She turned towards the curtains, tightly drawn, blurring the lines between late morning rays and the onset of dusk. A wave of weariness washed over her as she reached for her phone, her body still aching from the previous night's passions. That was when she saw it--a post from Sylvia on Instagram, unmistakably capturing William from behind, engrossed in cooking. The realization hit with the sharpness of a knife. In a fit of rage, Renee hurled her phone against the wall. Despite the force, the device miraculously survived the impact. "That fucking liar! That cheating piece of shit!" she snarled, fists clenched in anger. Lifting the blanket, she tried to stand, but the lingering soreness made every movement a struggle. That scumbag had really done a number on her. Yet, he felt no pain at all--if anything, he was in high spirits as he happily went to cook for his lover. Her anger simmered, fueled by each throbbing ache and the betrayal freshly unveiled. Sylvia's post was a glaring provocation. At that moment, a hesitant knock rapped at the door, followed by the maid's timid voice filtering through. "Mrs. Mitchell, are you up? Mr. Mitchell had me prepare something to help with your hangover." Renee seethed with annoyance. Now that he was out cavorting with his mistress, why even bother sending the maid? She inhaled sharply, trying to quell the rising storm within her. "I'm much better now, thank you. No need for that," Renee called out, her voice strained. Yet, the maid lingered at the doorway, her tone soft and persistent. "Mrs. Mitchell, Mr. Mitchell also specifically prepared a pill for you. Would you like to come out and take it?" Confused and a bit curious, Renee cracked open the door and peered out. "What pill?" she asked, her brow furrowed in suspicion. "You know, for after last night..." The maid trailed off delicately. That was the last straw. Renee's control snapped like a rope stretched too tight for too long. She was teetering dangerously on the edge of an outburst. Over the past three years of their marriage, Renee had diligently taken a contraceptive pill after each of their intimate encounters. The thought of starting a family hadn't yet appealed to her; she wasn't ready to embrace motherhood. The routine was simple when she managed it herself, but it felt different, almost intrusive, when William had the pills delivered to her. "I'm not taking it!" Renee declared defiantly, her voice thick with resolve. "Tell that scumbag that if I get pregnant, I'll have the baby! Let's see how he deals with that!" Her words echoed sharply as she slammed the door with a resounding thud, the sound reverberating off the walls. The moment the maid stepped out, she started digging through the room for the pills she bought before, her remark earlier nothing more than a bitter jab. Exhausted, she collapsed onto the plush bed, her body twisting and turning as she tried to find comfort in the soft linens. As sleep tugged at her consciousness, her mind seethed with curses aimed at William. She pondered his unexpected return from military service. Could his sudden appearance be tied to some trouble involving Sylvia? Indeed, Renee's suspicions weren't unfounded. William's return had everything to do with Sylvia. The moment he was discharged, he'd tried reaching out to Renee, only to be met with silence. His inquiries led him to discover her recent escapades, including the escorts she'd taken to keeping company. In a mix of rage and desperation, he had stormed the bar where she frequented, dragged her away, and then rushed to attend to Sylvia. Meanwhile, at the hospital, Sylvia sat uncomfortably as the doctor concluded his examination. "Ma'am, aside from some mild anemia, you're perfectly fine. By the way, is this gentleman your husband?" The question caught Sylvia off guard, a flush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. Leaning slightly forward, William questioned, "Doctor, should she be taking any extra precautions? Does she need to avoid any specific foods?" He neither confirmed nor denied, preserving Sylvia's dignity. "Just avoid seafood, particularly crabs. Beyond that, she's free to enjoy whatever she likes. Be grateful she's not constantly battling nausea. She's dealing with morning sickness--consider yourself lucky she can still eat without throwing up." "Got it. Thanks for your help, doctor." William's response was polite, tinged with a sense of relief. William stole a glance at Sylvia after leaving the doctor's office. She was cradling her belly gently, her expression radiant with the glowing joy unique to a first-time mother. He sighed, a whisper barely audible escaping his lips. "Sylvia." "William, I think... I can feel the baby's heartbeat." Sylvia's voice trembled with wonder, her eyes gleaming as they met his. He paused, the weight of his next words pressing down on him. "Sylvia, you should consider terminating the pregnancy." "No!" Her voice cracked, a visceral refusal. Tears instantly welled in her eyes as she implored him, "William, I want this baby. Please, let me keep it. Don't force me to give it up. I can raise this child by myself if I have to..." "And you think you can make this decision to keep the child without my agreement?" The cold, sharp voice of Renee sliced through their conversation. Both Sylvia and William turned to see her at the corner of the corridor, arms folded, her presence like a specter at a feast. Her stance and piercing gaze left no doubt about her stance--she was, after all, William's lawful wife, and her words carried the weight of her position. Chapter 4 Confrontation The moment Sylvia laid eyes on Renee, her heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively darted behind William, like a child seeking shelter from a nightmare. William's expression hardened into a frown as he faced Renee, his voice tinged with disbelief. "What are you doing here?" Renee's shoulders lifted in a casual shrug, her voice dry. "It's a hospital, William. What do you think?" As William's frown carved deeper lines into his forehead, he surveyed Renee from head to toe, searching for any telltale signs of illness but finding none. Taking a bold step forward, Renee's gaze locked onto Sylvia with unsettling intensity. "I heard my husband escorted another woman for a prenatal check-up early this morning. Naturally, as his legal wife, I felt compelled to see for myself." Her eyes, sharp and gleaming, bore into Sylvia's. "Miss Payne, let me be clear--as long as I draw breath, your child will never be acknowledged. Unless..." Her eyes then flicked to William, and she paused, letting the silence stretch before continuing with deliberate calm, "Unless William dares to divorce me. Why don't you ask him if he has the courage to do so?" Would William actually muster the courage to divorce her? Obviously not--otherwise, he wouldn't have made it through three years of this. When Renee was just 20, she declared to her family that she intended to marry William. Even her grandfather, Johnny Carter, who had doted on her since childhood, refused her for the first time. Johnny, a once-formidable retired commander, loomed large in his world, much like Renee's father, who, though steering clear of politics, had carved a significant niche in the business realm. Across the social spectrum, William's father, Eric Mitchell, wielded considerable influence as a high-ranking official in the political echelons. His current stature meant that allying with the Carter family could catapult him to even greater heights. The union between Renee and William was crafted as an unbreakable alliance, a powerful merger with no exits. Once vows were exchanged, the idea of parting ways was off the table. A divorce would not only fracture their personal lives but would also force their influential families into a messy, public tug-of-war, risking a feud that could echo through their elite circles. With Eric poised on the brink of a crucial promotion, he was adamant: divorce between his son and daughter-in-law was simply not an option. During the earlier days of their marriage, Renee had poured her heart into nurturing the union, but her efforts soon revealed themselves to be fruitless endeavors. Despite chasing William's affection for five years before she managed to marry him, his feelings remained elusive; not even the legal bond of marriage could spark affection in him. Faced with this reality, Renee suggested a pragmatic solution that they would continue to project the image of a devoted couple publicly and during familial gatherings, while privately, they would lead separate lives, each cloaked in their own solitude. With William being in the army for most of it, there wasn't much pretending needed anyway. Yet, one thing still baffled Renee--whenever William returned from the army, he would spend endless nights in bed with her, refusing to stop until she gave in. It was simply strange--he had ensured Sylvia lived close to his base in Stotta, so why did he still look like he hadn't touch any woman in forever? Renee guessed it was due to Sylvia's frail condition--William probably didn't want to strain her too much. What a fucking bastard! He pampered his lover like a queen while treating Renee like absolute shit. The sight of Sylvia tucked behind William sent a sharp, unexpected pang through Renee's chest. "What's wrong with you?" William's question sliced through the tension, but Renee's mocking laugh dismissed it, her disdain palpable. "William, I'm getting rid of Sylvia's baby right now. Are you going to try and stop me?" Her challenge hung heavy in the air, her words sharp as shards of glass. Their recent quarrel had left a chilly void between them. William had slipped away at dawn, his departure marked by a stinging silence. And then, the call from Ryland had come, twisting the knife deeper--William had escorted Sylvia to the obstetrics department for a prenatal checkup. The scandal, simmering just beneath the surface, threatened to boil over, exposing Renee to ridicule. "No! William, please, not my baby..." Sylvia's voice quavered, her fingers clutching William's sleeve as if it were her last lifeline. Her eyes, wide and pleading, searched his face for any sign of reassurance. But William remained eerily silent, his gaze unyieldingly locked on Renee's cold eyes. "William..." Sylvia's voice broke, terror lacing her whisper. She gripped his arm tighter, her plea more desperate. "I can't let go of this baby, William. Please, I need your help." "shut up!" The sharpness in Renee's voice cut through the tense air. In a swift, harsh motion, she raised her hand and delivered a stinging slap across Sylvia's face. The sound echoed, a chilling smack that left a vivid red imprint on Sylvia's pale cheek. "You don't have a say here, Sylvia," Renee hissed, her voice dripping with disdain. From the other end of the corridor, another voice challenged the oppressive silence, its tone imbued with an undeniable authority. "Is that so? And do I have a voice in this matter?" All eyes turned toward the newcomer. Her presence was commanding, her attire simple yet exuding an elegance that spoke of bespoke tailoring--clearly, she was a woman of significant stature. "Mom?" Chapter 5 As You Wish "Mrs. Mitchell..." Upon spotting William's mother, Esme Mitchell, Sylvia's eyes lit up with a flicker of desperate hope. She darted forward, throwing her arms around Esme in a tight embrace. Tears cascaded down her cheeks, painting her as a tragic heroine consumed by sorrow--an image that could melt even the coldest heart. It was no surprise that even William, with his usual stoic demeanor, found his resolve weakening under Sylvia's poignant display. Renee, observing from a distance, knew she lacked the flair for such dramatic expressions. "No need to worry, Sylvia. I'll protect you," Esme assured the younger woman, her tone warm and steady. "Mom, please, let's not escalate this," William interjected, his expression tense with concern. Around Esme, he often felt like he had no control. "William, if I hadn't shown up, would you have just stood by after Renee's outburst? I know I might have turned a blind eye before, but now, with Sylvia carrying your child--a new member of the Mitchell family on the way--can you really afford to let Renee act unchecked?" Esme's tone was both accusing and protective. At the mention of the baby being another Mitchell, Sylvia's eyes dropped, her joy of coming motherhood shadowed by the weight of those words. William shot a brief, complicated look at Sylvia, his face unreadable. "I can handle this, Mom," he stated flatly, his voice laced with frustration. "And how exactly would you handle it? By watching as Renee lashes out at Sylvia and doing nothing?" Esme countered sharply, her frustration mirroring her son's but for different reasons. Renee stood her ground, her voice a mixture of irony and resolve as she addressed Esme. "I'm your daughter-in-law, William's one and only legal wife. No matter how influential your family is, you wouldn't dare commit bigamy, would you?" Esme bristled, her response sharp and clipped. "Enough of your bullshit!" "Bullshit? Is that what you call them?" Renee shot back, her tone rising slightly with indignation. "It was indeed I who pursued William initially, but over the years, both I and my family have shouldered immense burdens to prop up your family's stature. And now, you wish to replace me with Sylvia? Did you even bother to consult the other members of the Mitchell family about your plans?" As she turned her gaze towards Sylvia, Renee's eyes flashed with contempt. "To even mention Sylvia in the same breath as me is laughable." "Renee, that's enough," William interjected, his voice icy and stern. Esme, emboldened by William's admonition, pressed on, her tone dripping with disdain. "William, did you hear her? This is not how a sophisticated heiress should behave. She lacks the basic decorum expected of her status. I've always said it--Renee is too stubborn and impulsive for our family. You should never have married her. Remember how I opposed it from the start?" But Renee wasn't fazed. Instead, she laughed heartily, a sound rich with scorn and amusement. "Indeed, a home-wrecker must be so sophisticated and possess impeccable manners," she said sarcastically. Deep down, Renee knew she was the one who had come between William and Sylvia. Originally, Sylvia's family had fallen into dire straits, and the Mitchell family, due to their precarious position, could not offer direct help. It was then that William had turned to Renee, who had been ardently pursuing him for five years. For the past five years, William had all but ignored Renee, treating her affection as if it were invisible. Renee, ever the hopeful pursuer, tirelessly chased after his fleeting attention. Ironically, the first time he sought her out wasn't for romance--it was to plead on behalf of Sylvia. Renee's disdain for Sylvia stretched back to their childhood days, a bitter rivalry that festered over the years. Thus, when William asked for her help for Sylvia, Renee seized the opportunity to turn the tables. She threw the notion of marriage at him like a challenge, expecting him to waver. But to her shock, he consented immediately, his compliance cutting her deeply. It was a stark, painful reminder of Sylvia's significance to him. Sylvia, the perpetual thorn in Renee's side, had been a constant source of agony since she became William's wife. Lost in these brooding thoughts, Renee was then jolted back to reality by a sharp slap. Her head whipped around, eyes blazing with fury, to find Esme standing there, her expression unyielding. "This slap is for Sylvia," Esme declared firmly. "Renee, don't think you can torment her just because she's an orphan and vulnerable." "Mom! Why the hell did you do that?" William interjected, stepping in front of Renee protectively. But Renee wasn't grateful for his defense. Instead, she scoffed, her laughter tinged with bitterness, "Oh, so I'm the bad guy now? Fine. Let it be as you wish." In a swift, fluid motion, Renee charged forward, her fingers entwined in Sylvia's hair as she delivered a stinging slap across her cheek. Her actions were fierce and immediate--Renee never hesitated to settle scores right then and there, refusing to suffer any slight quietly. "She may lack family, but I refuse to let that girl trample over the dignity of the Carter family!" Renee declared with fiery conviction. Despite Esme's frantic attempts to calm the storm, she was powerless against Renee's relentless fury. Raised with strict discipline, Esme was the polar opposite of Renee. And there was Sylvia, who had always been gentle and unassuming. Renee, with her commanding presence, could easily overpower them both. "William! Are you seriously just going to watch? Are you just going to let her go on a rampage like that?" Esme's voice cracked under the strain, her plea laced with desperation. Renee's eyes finally snapped to William, who had remained a silent observer. With his skills, he could have intervened at any moment, preventing the assault with ease. Why had he chosen to remain passive when she struck Sylvia? Lost in her thoughts, Renee barely registered the sensation of a strong arm encircling her waist. In an instant, she was lifted from the floor, her feet dangling helplessly. William, treating her with no more regard than one would a sack of potatoes, carried her away. His voice was calm, yet it carried an unyielding firmness. "Mom, I can handle my affairs. Stay out of this. I won't say it again," he stated decisively, before carrying Renee back towards their home. &9&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/70314322-fb_contact-e	Lime novel-E	https://www.facebook.com/100090637249756/	361	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more		fbweb.moboreader.net	VIDEO		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/70314322-fb_contact-enp133_6-250225-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=798859118295947&exdata=F5168A8F4492BA0F939D158623B87BBF91B39FA1D6FCE48E	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481078011_1203815221306510_5343552457360546227_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=wAgA7l9GvkgQ7kNvgEKgt6q&_nc_oc=Adjfk9C2UvCpTNLI-SQXfvBUxCWcYy3EQSsk9-115bKipAwUU6eaaqq8esjEwbS-DqBu798ShAUzkXJwFCJgOvBD&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AKKs2JOQirhir41eNtIzQ_6&oh=00_AYC0lvPHRF7zka1ubKAg8Z_JNnUjchxdXYQldiNJOKE3xw&oe=67CB952B	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Lime novel-E	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,059	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	Read next chapter👉	Three years of passion without love. But after every night in bed, he took his first love to her checkups. She struck back--filed for divorce and hired a model who looked just like him... for wild, endless nights! ===== Chapter 1 Carry On With Whatever This Is A military jeep thundered down the bustling bar street, its presence like a storm on the horizon. The jeep, adorned with a high-ranking officer's insignia and a distinctive license plate, commanded the attention of all it passed. It came to a jarring halt in front of the neon-lit Serendipity bar, its brakes screeching a piercing challenge to the surrounding nightlife. The door of the jeep opened and then slammed shut with a force that reverberated through the silent evening, mimicking the sharp report of a gunshot. A man emerged, his camouflage uniform blending oddly with the urban setting. His stern expression and the firm set of his jaw added to his daunting presence as he stepped into the colorful chaos of the bar. Inside, the neon lights cast an otherworldly glow on his face, the shadows playing across his features as he moved with a purposeful stride. The bar was alive with the vibrant beats of electrifying music and the murmur of drunken chatter--yet he seemed to carry a chilling silence around him, isolating him from the revelry. At the bar counter, Ryland Flynn was engrossed in a flirtatious conversation with the bargirl. He looked up as the military man entered, the haze of alcohol clearing swiftly from his eyes. The imposing figure made a beeline for the elevator, and Ryland, sensing urgency, scrambled off his stool to intercept him. "Mr. Mitchell... What brings you here to Serendipity tonight?" Ryland's voice faltered under the icy gaze of the man. The man's eyes narrowed, his voice resonant and commanding as he demanded, "Where's Renee?" "I... I believe she's at her home tonight," Ryland stammered, struggling to maintain his composure under the piercing scrutiny. Without hesitation, the man pressed the elevator button for the top floor, his action sharp and decisive. "You have 30 seconds to alert her," he stated curtly. Ryland's heart raced as panic gripped him. He knew that fabricating a story was pointless now. With trembling hands, he pulled out his phone and dialed Renee Carter's number right in front of the imposing figure looming over him. The phone buzzed unanswered after three persistent rings, prompting Ryland to switch to WhatsApp in a frantic rush. Opting for a voice message, he pressed the microphone icon and whispered urgently, "Renee, your husband is here to see you; he's on his way up in the elevator." His attempt to keep his voice hushed failed miserably; the words echoed clearly in the tight space of the elevator. An icy chuckle emanated from behind Ryland, sending shivers down his spine as the elevator dinged open. Sweat started to bead on his forehead, each drop a testament to his growing dread. The man stepped out with a determined stride, heading straight for the VIP room. Ryland, caught in a web of fear, trailed meekly behind, his steps hesitant and his mind racing for solutions. Stopping abruptly at the door, the man turned slightly. Ryland, mustering a sliver of courage, spoke up with a shaky voice. "Mr. Mitchell, I assure you, she isn't here." "Last chance--open up, or I'll kick this door in myself." "Please, believe me. She..." Ryland tried again, his voice faltering. "Three," the man stated evenly, his tone leaving no room for argument as the countdown commenced. "Fine," Ryland murmured, his voice a strained whisper as he fumbled with the room key, a sigh escaping him. His hands trembled slightly--caught in a bind, he dared not cross a member of the formidable Mitchell family. As the door creaked open, the man's eyes narrowed, his expression hardened into the stern, unyielding mask of a seasoned military veteran. Ryland stole a brief glance inside and sharply inhaled, quickly diverting his gaze to safeguard his own wellbeing, positioning himself squarely in the doorway, observing from a cautious distance. Inside, Renee reclined languidly on the sofa, her figure draped in a vibrant red slip dress that made a bold statement, flanked by two young male escorts. Their bare torsos were adorned with the unmistakable traces of passion, scratches carved into their skin like echoes of their heated encounters. The abrupt noise of the door's movement caused the escorts to stiffen, their muscles tensing as they beheld the daunting figure looming at the entrance. In sharp contrast, Renee exuded an air of nonchalant ease. Slowly opening her eyes, her lips curled into a taunting smirk upon sighting the man. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she regarded him through half-lidded eyes, her smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Relax, boys, it's not a police raid," she teased, her voice dripping with disdain. "Allow me to introduce him--this is my husband, the esteemed William Mitchell of the Mitchell family. You've surely heard of him, haven't you?" As she spoke, her gaze flitted over to William, observing his stoic visage with a provocative sneer. "Mr. Mitchell, to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit tonight? Aren't you supposed to be getting busy with your childhood sweetheart instead of wasting time here with us?" William approached with deliberate steps, the chill of the night air clinging to his camouflage jacket, mirroring the icy reserve on his face. He seated himself on the sofa across from her, crossing his legs with a deliberate nonchalance. Smirking insincerely, he waved a hand. "Don't mind me--carry on with whatever this is." Chapter 2 Disappointment Isn't An Option Here The two escorts were already visibly tense, their anxiety written all over their faces, and the mere mention of William's name sent shivers down their spines. Renee, her head bowed slightly, felt a surge of anger well up within her. Yet, she masked it expertly behind a veil of serenity and commanded, "You heard him, didn't you? Now that Mr. Mitchell is in the mood, you'd better be at your best--disappointment isn't an option here." She then raised her head, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous spark, and flashed a coquettish wink at William. "Mr. Mitchell, consider this an invaluable lesson. You treat the bed like a battlefield--my two companions, on the other hand, know how to make a woman feel cherished. After all, we aren't your foot soldiers. While I might endure your roughness, think of your beloved. She's far too delicate for such treatment, don't you think?" William responded with nothing more than a frigid glance. Reclining against the back of the sofa, he struck a match with a sharp flick, lighting his cigarette. A veil of smoke soon enveloped him, masking his inscrutable expression. Renee's irritation spiked at his detached demeanor; he looked almost wounded, though she couldn't fathom what could possibly dent his icy exterior. Impatiently, she snapped at the escorts, "Well? What are you waiting for? At Mr. Mitchell's request, show him what you've got--who knows, he might actually pick up a thing or two." With a defiant flair, Renee tugged at the straps of her slip dress, letting them slip down her shoulders. The men jolted with surprise, their eyes darting involuntarily towards William, whose gaze was icy and unforgiving. Instinctively, they squeezed their eyes shut. "Uh, Ms. Carter... maybe it's best if we go." As they stooped to gather their scattered clothing from the floor, Renee fixed them with a frosty stare that rooted them in place. "I've told you already. Disappointment isn't an option here," she stated, her voice sharp as the winter air. Her attention turned back to William just in time to catch a camouflage jacket sailing through the air, draping over her with precision, obscuring her view. Before she could shrug off the jacket, she was abruptly swept up by two robust hands. "William! What on earth are you doing?!" she exclaimed, her voice muffled under the fabric. Blind to his expression, she could only sense the intense, ominous aura radiating from him. Effortlessly, he slung her over his shoulder, a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his fingertips. In a swift motion, he extinguished the cigarette on the back of one of the men, eliciting a sharp yelp. Simultaneously, his boot connected with the other man's knee, causing a stifled groan of agony to fill the room. Ryland, who had been nervously lingering by the door, stepped forward in alarm. "Mr. Mitchell, please, let's resolve this peacefully," he pleaded, his voice quivering. "Get out of my way!" William's command was a low rumble, more animal than human, that sent Ryland stumbling back in fear. Helplessly, he watched as William maneuvered Renee into the back of the jeep, her protests fading into the night. The engine roared as the vehicle surged forward, a reflection of the driver's burning temper. As Renee collapsed onto the plush, crimson bedspread, the effects of the evening's alcohol started to fade. Her eyes fluttered open, fixing on the ornate bed in the master bedroom--an emblem of union they had never truly shared since their marriage. The irony stung, blending seamlessly with her sorrow. Their three-year union was not a sexless one. The rare times William came home from his military duties, their encounters, though heated and passionate, were just fleeting moments of intimacy. Yet, their living arrangements spoke volumes--they maintained separate rooms, with this room remaining untouched by either. But tonight, William's demeanor was unhinged, as he dragged her into this "sacred" space and threw her onto the bed without hesitation. "William, what the hell are you thinking?" Renee gasped, her voice a mix of bewilderment and fear. She barely managed to prop herself up when he loomed over her, his gaze wild and red-rimmed. "Get ready, because I'm gonna fuck you until you're begging for more," he declared, his words seething through clenched teeth as he ruthlessly ripped her dress strap by strap. "So, Renee, you were saying I was too rough, is that it?" he huffed, his breath hot against her ear, his teeth lightly grazing her earlobe in a chilling caress. "I'm gonna fuck you nice and easy tonight--make you feel every damn second of it." Trapped beneath his weight, Renee writhed futilely, her struggles inadvertently drawing them even closer. As he tenderly grazed her earlobe with a punitive lick, his voice cut through the air, icy and stark. "Remember, you're a married woman." Just then, the shrill ring of his phone pierced the tense air. Although he wanted to dismiss it, the insistent buzzing from his pocket--just as he was about to undress--compelled him to reach for his phone with visible impatience. Recognizing the caller ID, his expression softened slightly. With a wry, self-deprecating smirk, Renee peeked at his phone screen. Unsurprisingly, it was his childhood sweetheart calling. Her voice dripped with irony as she retorted, "Seems you've forgotten you're a married man." His eyes flickered to her, but before he could gauge her next move, Renee snatched his phone and answered the call with deliberate calm. "Hello, Sylvia," she called out evenly. There was a brief pause as Sylvia Payne processed the unexpected voice. "Renee... hi," she stammered, her words stumbling over the shock. Upon catching William's resigned look, Renee's smile twisted into a sly grin. "Yeah, it's me. Sorry, but William and I are a little busy right now. You know how horny couples get after some time apart--it's like a damn craving that needs to be satisfied. He's got his mouth all over me, so I doubt he'll be able to answer his phone anytime soon." Chapter 3 A Fucking Liar Renee's words might have struck a nerve or instilled fear in Sylvia, who fell silent, stewing in her thoughts for a lengthy pause. Just as Renee braced herself for another onslaught of bold accusations, William intervened, snatching the phone from her hand. His kiss, fierce and claiming, then stole her breath away. William wasn't one to make empty promises--he showed her exactly what gentleness could be. After what felt like an eternity of torment, Renee broke down in tears, pleading for mercy--only then did he finally relent. Drained from the ordeal, she succumbed to sleep almost instantly. Throughout the night, she drifted in a half-conscious daze, vaguely aware of William leaving the bed. By the time morning crept in, Renee awoke alone. She lay there on the vast bed that held both fresh and lingering memories, her mind adrift in contemplation. She turned towards the curtains, tightly drawn, blurring the lines between late morning rays and the onset of dusk. A wave of weariness washed over her as she reached for her phone, her body still aching from the previous night's passions. That was when she saw it--a post from Sylvia on Instagram, unmistakably capturing William from behind, engrossed in cooking. The realization hit with the sharpness of a knife. In a fit of rage, Renee hurled her phone against the wall. Despite the force, the device miraculously survived the impact. "That fucking liar! That cheating piece of shit!" she snarled, fists clenched in anger. Lifting the blanket, she tried to stand, but the lingering soreness made every movement a struggle. That scumbag had really done a number on her. Yet, he felt no pain at all--if anything, he was in high spirits as he happily went to cook for his lover. Her anger simmered, fueled by each throbbing ache and the betrayal freshly unveiled. Sylvia's post was a glaring provocation. At that moment, a hesitant knock rapped at the door, followed by the maid's timid voice filtering through. "Mrs. Mitchell, are you up? Mr. Mitchell had me prepare something to help with your hangover." Renee seethed with annoyance. Now that he was out cavorting with his mistress, why even bother sending the maid? She inhaled sharply, trying to quell the rising storm within her. "I'm much better now, thank you. No need for that," Renee called out, her voice strained. Yet, the maid lingered at the doorway, her tone soft and persistent. "Mrs. Mitchell, Mr. Mitchell also specifically prepared a pill for you. Would you like to come out and take it?" Confused and a bit curious, Renee cracked open the door and peered out. "What pill?" she asked, her brow furrowed in suspicion. "You know, for after last night..." The maid trailed off delicately. That was the last straw. Renee's control snapped like a rope stretched too tight for too long. She was teetering dangerously on the edge of an outburst. Over the past three years of their marriage, Renee had diligently taken a contraceptive pill after each of their intimate encounters. The thought of starting a family hadn't yet appealed to her; she wasn't ready to embrace motherhood. The routine was simple when she managed it herself, but it felt different, almost intrusive, when William had the pills delivered to her. "I'm not taking it!" Renee declared defiantly, her voice thick with resolve. "Tell that scumbag that if I get pregnant, I'll have the baby! Let's see how he deals with that!" Her words echoed sharply as she slammed the door with a resounding thud, the sound reverberating off the walls. The moment the maid stepped out, she started digging through the room for the pills she bought before, her remark earlier nothing more than a bitter jab. Exhausted, she collapsed onto the plush bed, her body twisting and turning as she tried to find comfort in the soft linens. As sleep tugged at her consciousness, her mind seethed with curses aimed at William. She pondered his unexpected return from military service. Could his sudden appearance be tied to some trouble involving Sylvia? Indeed, Renee's suspicions weren't unfounded. William's return had everything to do with Sylvia. The moment he was discharged, he'd tried reaching out to Renee, only to be met with silence. His inquiries led him to discover her recent escapades, including the escorts she'd taken to keeping company. In a mix of rage and desperation, he had stormed the bar where she frequented, dragged her away, and then rushed to attend to Sylvia. Meanwhile, at the hospital, Sylvia sat uncomfortably as the doctor concluded his examination. "Ma'am, aside from some mild anemia, you're perfectly fine. By the way, is this gentleman your husband?" The question caught Sylvia off guard, a flush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. Leaning slightly forward, William questioned, "Doctor, should she be taking any extra precautions? Does she need to avoid any specific foods?" He neither confirmed nor denied, preserving Sylvia's dignity. "Just avoid seafood, particularly crabs. Beyond that, she's free to enjoy whatever she likes. Be grateful she's not constantly battling nausea. She's dealing with morning sickness--consider yourself lucky she can still eat without throwing up." "Got it. Thanks for your help, doctor." William's response was polite, tinged with a sense of relief. William stole a glance at Sylvia after leaving the doctor's office. She was cradling her belly gently, her expression radiant with the glowing joy unique to a first-time mother. He sighed, a whisper barely audible escaping his lips. "Sylvia." "William, I think... I can feel the baby's heartbeat." Sylvia's voice trembled with wonder, her eyes gleaming as they met his. He paused, the weight of his next words pressing down on him. "Sylvia, you should consider terminating the pregnancy." "No!" Her voice cracked, a visceral refusal. Tears instantly welled in her eyes as she implored him, "William, I want this baby. Please, let me keep it. Don't force me to give it up. I can raise this child by myself if I have to..." "And you think you can make this decision to keep the child without my agreement?" The cold, sharp voice of Renee sliced through their conversation. Both Sylvia and William turned to see her at the corner of the corridor, arms folded, her presence like a specter at a feast. Her stance and piercing gaze left no doubt about her stance--she was, after all, William's lawful wife, and her words carried the weight of her position. Chapter 4 Confrontation The moment Sylvia laid eyes on Renee, her heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively darted behind William, like a child seeking shelter from a nightmare. William's expression hardened into a frown as he faced Renee, his voice tinged with disbelief. "What are you doing here?" Renee's shoulders lifted in a casual shrug, her voice dry. "It's a hospital, William. What do you think?" As William's frown carved deeper lines into his forehead, he surveyed Renee from head to toe, searching for any telltale signs of illness but finding none. Taking a bold step forward, Renee's gaze locked onto Sylvia with unsettling intensity. "I heard my husband escorted another woman for a prenatal check-up early this morning. Naturally, as his legal wife, I felt compelled to see for myself." Her eyes, sharp and gleaming, bore into Sylvia's. "Miss Payne, let me be clear--as long as I draw breath, your child will never be acknowledged. Unless..." Her eyes then flicked to William, and she paused, letting the silence stretch before continuing with deliberate calm, "Unless William dares to divorce me. Why don't you ask him if he has the courage to do so?" Would William actually muster the courage to divorce her? Obviously not--otherwise, he wouldn't have made it through three years of this. When Renee was just 20, she declared to her family that she intended to marry William. Even her grandfather, Johnny Carter, who had doted on her since childhood, refused her for the first time. Johnny, a once-formidable retired commander, loomed large in his world, much like Renee's father, who, though steering clear of politics, had carved a significant niche in the business realm. Across the social spectrum, William's father, Eric Mitchell, wielded considerable influence as a high-ranking official in the political echelons. His current stature meant that allying with the Carter family could catapult him to even greater heights. The union between Renee and William was crafted as an unbreakable alliance, a powerful merger with no exits. Once vows were exchanged, the idea of parting ways was off the table. A divorce would not only fracture their personal lives but would also force their influential families into a messy, public tug-of-war, risking a feud that could echo through their elite circles. With Eric poised on the brink of a crucial promotion, he was adamant: divorce between his son and daughter-in-law was simply not an option. During the earlier days of their marriage, Renee had poured her heart into nurturing the union, but her efforts soon revealed themselves to be fruitless endeavors. Despite chasing William's affection for five years before she managed to marry him, his feelings remained elusive; not even the legal bond of marriage could spark affection in him. Faced with this reality, Renee suggested a pragmatic solution that they would continue to project the image of a devoted couple publicly and during familial gatherings, while privately, they would lead separate lives, each cloaked in their own solitude. With William being in the army for most of it, there wasn't much pretending needed anyway. Yet, one thing still baffled Renee--whenever William returned from the army, he would spend endless nights in bed with her, refusing to stop until she gave in. It was simply strange--he had ensured Sylvia lived close to his base in Stotta, so why did he still look like he hadn't touch any woman in forever? Renee guessed it was due to Sylvia's frail condition--William probably didn't want to strain her too much. What a fucking bastard! He pampered his lover like a queen while treating Renee like absolute shit. The sight of Sylvia tucked behind William sent a sharp, unexpected pang through Renee's chest. "What's wrong with you?" William's question sliced through the tension, but Renee's mocking laugh dismissed it, her disdain palpable. "William, I'm getting rid of Sylvia's baby right now. Are you going to try and stop me?" Her challenge hung heavy in the air, her words sharp as shards of glass. Their recent quarrel had left a chilly void between them. William had slipped away at dawn, his departure marked by a stinging silence. And then, the call from Ryland had come, twisting the knife deeper--William had escorted Sylvia to the obstetrics department for a prenatal checkup. The scandal, simmering just beneath the surface, threatened to boil over, exposing Renee to ridicule. "No! William, please, not my baby..." Sylvia's voice quavered, her fingers clutching William's sleeve as if it were her last lifeline. Her eyes, wide and pleading, searched his face for any sign of reassurance. But William remained eerily silent, his gaze unyieldingly locked on Renee's cold eyes. "William..." Sylvia's voice broke, terror lacing her whisper. She gripped his arm tighter, her plea more desperate. "I can't let go of this baby, William. Please, I need your help." "shut up!" The sharpness in Renee's voice cut through the tense air. In a swift, harsh motion, she raised her hand and delivered a stinging slap across Sylvia's face. The sound echoed, a chilling smack that left a vivid red imprint on Sylvia's pale cheek. "You don't have a say here, Sylvia," Renee hissed, her voice dripping with disdain. From the other end of the corridor, another voice challenged the oppressive silence, its tone imbued with an undeniable authority. "Is that so? And do I have a voice in this matter?" All eyes turned toward the newcomer. Her presence was commanding, her attire simple yet exuding an elegance that spoke of bespoke tailoring--clearly, she was a woman of significant stature. "Mom?" Chapter 5 As You Wish "Mrs. Mitchell..." Upon spotting William's mother, Esme Mitchell, Sylvia's eyes lit up with a flicker of desperate hope. She darted forward, throwing her arms around Esme in a tight embrace. Tears cascaded down her cheeks, painting her as a tragic heroine consumed by sorrow--an image that could melt even the coldest heart. It was no surprise that even William, with his usual stoic demeanor, found his resolve weakening under Sylvia's poignant display. Renee, observing from a distance, knew she lacked the flair for such dramatic expressions. "No need to worry, Sylvia. I'll protect you," Esme assured the younger woman, her tone warm and steady. "Mom, please, let's not escalate this," William interjected, his expression tense with concern. Around Esme, he often felt like he had no control. "William, if I hadn't shown up, would you have just stood by after Renee's outburst? I know I might have turned a blind eye before, but now, with Sylvia carrying your child--a new member of the Mitchell family on the way--can you really afford to let Renee act unchecked?" Esme's tone was both accusing and protective. At the mention of the baby being another Mitchell, Sylvia's eyes dropped, her joy of coming motherhood shadowed by the weight of those words. William shot a brief, complicated look at Sylvia, his face unreadable. "I can handle this, Mom," he stated flatly, his voice laced with frustration. "And how exactly would you handle it? By watching as Renee lashes out at Sylvia and doing nothing?" Esme countered sharply, her frustration mirroring her son's but for different reasons. Renee stood her ground, her voice a mixture of irony and resolve as she addressed Esme. "I'm your daughter-in-law, William's one and only legal wife. No matter how influential your family is, you wouldn't dare commit bigamy, would you?" Esme bristled, her response sharp and clipped. "Enough of your bullshit!" "Bullshit? Is that what you call them?" Renee shot back, her tone rising slightly with indignation. "It was indeed I who pursued William initially, but over the years, both I and my family have shouldered immense burdens to prop up your family's stature. And now, you wish to replace me with Sylvia? Did you even bother to consult the other members of the Mitchell family about your plans?" As she turned her gaze towards Sylvia, Renee's eyes flashed with contempt. "To even mention Sylvia in the same breath as me is laughable." "Renee, that's enough," William interjected, his voice icy and stern. Esme, emboldened by William's admonition, pressed on, her tone dripping with disdain. "William, did you hear her? This is not how a sophisticated heiress should behave. She lacks the basic decorum expected of her status. I've always said it--Renee is too stubborn and impulsive for our family. You should never have married her. Remember how I opposed it from the start?" But Renee wasn't fazed. Instead, she laughed heartily, a sound rich with scorn and amusement. "Indeed, a home-wrecker must be so sophisticated and possess impeccable manners," she said sarcastically. Deep down, Renee knew she was the one who had come between William and Sylvia. Originally, Sylvia's family had fallen into dire straits, and the Mitchell family, due to their precarious position, could not offer direct help. It was then that William had turned to Renee, who had been ardently pursuing him for five years. For the past five years, William had all but ignored Renee, treating her affection as if it were invisible. Renee, ever the hopeful pursuer, tirelessly chased after his fleeting attention. Ironically, the first time he sought her out wasn't for romance--it was to plead on behalf of Sylvia. Renee's disdain for Sylvia stretched back to their childhood days, a bitter rivalry that festered over the years. Thus, when William asked for her help for Sylvia, Renee seized the opportunity to turn the tables. She threw the notion of marriage at him like a challenge, expecting him to waver. But to her shock, he consented immediately, his compliance cutting her deeply. It was a stark, painful reminder of Sylvia's significance to him. Sylvia, the perpetual thorn in Renee's side, had been a constant source of agony since she became William's wife. Lost in these brooding thoughts, Renee was then jolted back to reality by a sharp slap. Her head whipped around, eyes blazing with fury, to find Esme standing there, her expression unyielding. "This slap is for Sylvia," Esme declared firmly. "Renee, don't think you can torment her just because she's an orphan and vulnerable." "Mom! Why the hell did you do that?" William interjected, stepping in front of Renee protectively. But Renee wasn't grateful for his defense. Instead, she scoffed, her laughter tinged with bitterness, "Oh, so I'm the bad guy now? Fine. Let it be as you wish." In a swift, fluid motion, Renee charged forward, her fingers entwined in Sylvia's hair as she delivered a stinging slap across her cheek. Her actions were fierce and immediate--Renee never hesitated to settle scores right then and there, refusing to suffer any slight quietly. "She may lack family, but I refuse to let that girl trample over the dignity of the Carter family!" Renee declared with fiery conviction. Despite Esme's frantic attempts to calm the storm, she was powerless against Renee's relentless fury. Raised with strict discipline, Esme was the polar opposite of Renee. And there was Sylvia, who had always been gentle and unassuming. Renee, with her commanding presence, could easily overpower them both. "William! Are you seriously just going to watch? Are you just going to let her go on a rampage like that?" Esme's voice cracked under the strain, her plea laced with desperation. Renee's eyes finally snapped to William, who had remained a silent observer. With his skills, he could have intervened at any moment, preventing the assault with ease. Why had he chosen to remain passive when she struck Sylvia? Lost in her thoughts, Renee barely registered the sensation of a strong arm encircling her waist. In an instant, she was lifted from the floor, her feet dangling helplessly. William, treating her with no more regard than one would a sack of potatoes, carried her away. His voice was calm, yet it carried an unyielding firmness. "Mom, I can handle my affairs. Stay out of this. I won't say it again," he stated decisively, before carrying Renee back towards their home. &9&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/70314322-fb_contact-e	Lime novel-E	https://www.facebook.com/100090637249756/	361	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more		fbweb.moboreader.net	IMAGE		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/70314322-fb_contact-enp133_6-250225-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=798859118295947&exdata=F5168A8F4492BA0F34BAA63ED75E8E9949428DCC46C87638	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480977833_29794324173487976_9212037834725713867_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=P-2shRrxcT4Q7kNvgEXaD9j&_nc_oc=AdggTxzqOObsfbNSCuSRghcWs1P7HZKFVkJvrR63JlZxqYDIQjc8NkLabIRV0i8wmtvCZnvpDfiCbIchdW4Cw72H&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AKKs2JOQirhir41eNtIzQ_6&oh=00_AYDdOTIp_nLDOTaK9zy4KGdx29GkUNdMdy_jNLcXqcQIpQ&oe=67CB8F09	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Lime novel-E	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,062	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2747060}'	Yes	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	I Quit Dangerous Meds - Here's How 👉	I stopped trusting meds not made for us (Black People) and found natural healing. Learn how you can do it too👇🏾	LEARN_MORE	https://infiniteage.com/pages/bldprsr-a	Infinite Age	https://www.facebook.com/infiniteage/	45,857	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More		infiniteage.com	DCO	100% Money-Back Guarantee	https://infiniteage.com/pages/bldprsr-a	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/472144751_525676167297719_4974808326316182715_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=WSMFX_GHJIkQ7kNvgHR6-FL&_nc_oc=Adh_4vm4MrMsOtSpcXDj4dq-YBy6epYCP2D8dLYNayamGm_CsniAy5ATdWmAjL_hH5mnqE9B_LMECiFDUvac6DI0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AKKs2JOQirhir41eNtIzQ_6&oh=00_AYB5gEpe0z1MuO_mogMHUr8ODOvpAJVCGjfyImkRlH5yxA&oe=67CB7E9F	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Infinite Age	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,070	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759		Emerging from the confines of marriage, she blossomed from a mundane housewife to a renowned painter with a legion of admirers. When her ex-husband sought reconciliation at her doorstep, he witnessed her in the arms of a prominent man. "Meet your new sister-in-law!" ===== In the dimly lit, opulent private cinema, the most exclusive jewelry auction was being broadcast live. "One million, going once, going twice--" The rich cadence of the auctioneer's voice echoed through the room, the man tightened his grip around Alicia Bennett's waist... With the intensity between them only grew fiercer as time passed... The auctioneer's gavel fell. "Sold for ten million! Let's give a round of applause to Mr. Joshua Yates!" The name struck Alicia like a lightning bolt. Her body instantly went rigid, something that the man couldn't help but notice, flicked lazily toward the screen. The camera zoomed in on Joshua Yates's face, every detail of his familiar features displayed in perfect clarity. "Joshua Yates, the second son of the Yates family... an acquaintance perhaps?" he drawled, the corners of his mouth tugging into a sly smile. Alicia's frown deepened. The last thing she wanted was to discuss it, she didn't respond. The man, upon seeing the situation, chuckled lightly before his movements grew even more relentless... ...... When it was over, Alicia took advantage of the man's time in the shower and quietly made her escape. When Caden Ward finally emerged from the bathroom, not catching sight of the woman's figure, he curled his lips slightly. Moments later, his assistant, Hank Ford, burst into the room, clearly on edge, "Er, apologies, Mr. Ward. I let my guard down. Give me a moment, and I'll have her brought back immediately." They had just returned to the country, taking every precaution. And yet, a woman had managed to slip through the cracks of their security. Caden's features calm, almost indifferent. "No need. I was... a willing participant." Hank's eyes widened in shock. In all the time he'd known Caden, the man had never slept with a woman,even physical contact. There were even rumors that Caden might suffer from some secret ailment. Yet now, those whispers seemed to evaporate in the face of this unexpected turn of events. Before Hank could make sense of it, Caden's deep voice pulled him back to reality. "I want you to look into Joshua's personal life. Have the report on my desk in half an hour." Tonight, Alicia had stumbled into his room, feverish and desperate. It was obvious she'd been framed. And then came the revelation--Alicia was still a pureness. Two years of marriage to Joshua... Yet she was still untouched? Caden's lips curled into a satisfied smile. But as he reflected, one thing became abundantly clear--Alicia had no idea who she'd been with due to the dug's effects. ... By the time Alicia returned home, the first light of dawn filtered through the windows. Only then did she realize how long she had been out. But before she could dwell any further, her phone rang. It was her bestie, Monica Flynn, calling. "Alicia!" Monica practically screeched from the other end of the line, her voice high-pitched with worry. "How are you now?" Alicia exhaled deeply, kicking off her shoes carelessly. "I've been better," she murmured. Monica's anger bubbled over, her words sharp and unrelenting. "Joshua's beyond disgusting! If he doesn't want to stay married, he should just grow a spine and divorce you already! What kind of sick man would scheme against his own wife?" The sharp pain of betrayal shot through Alicia's chest. Yesterday was their second anniversary. Joshua had texted her, suggesting they celebrate. Daring to hope he had changed, she had dressed up to the nine's, only to be met with disappointment and a dug-laced drink that sent her spiraling into a night of confusion and chaos. Was Joshua really the mastermind behind this? Swallowing the bitterness that tried clawing its way to the surface, Alicia forced herself to climb the stairs, her movements slow and weary. "It's fine, Monica. I'll handle it." Monica, ever protective, wasn't convinced. "'Handle it'? What do you mean you'll handle it? Just say the word, and I'll be over in a heartbeat." Alicia couldn't help the small, tired smile that tugged at her lips, hanging up the phone. But her heart still felt heavy, just as she lost focus, the door to her bedroom creaked open. She lifted her gaze, and almost instantly, her stomach dropped. There, fresh from a shower, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, stood Joshua. He stared down at her. Chapter 2 Divorce Alicia snapped out of her daze as soon as she met the icy gaze of Joshua, her so-called husband. His expression remained unchanged, cold and indifferent as ever, as though he was looking at a stranger. The only thing out of place was the scars on his lips. A wave of disgust washed over her, she pushed him away and was about to enter. Joshua frowned, his hand shooting out to grab her wrist. "Alicia, what's with the attitude?" He seemed quite unhappy with her this time, which was a rare thing, considering how little he bothered to come home. Normally, Alicia would have welcomed him back with open arms, a flicker of joy lighting up her tired features, but today she looked drained, almost hollow. She didn't resist his grip, meeting his gaze with a calmness that unnerved him. "Haven't I always been like this? Obedient, sensible, making sure the house is in order, ensuring you're comfortable, ready to give your best at work." A small, bitter smile tugged at her lips. "Isn't that what you like most about me? It makes things easier for you, doesn't it? Frees up time for your other... 'special someone'." Joshua's eyes darkened at the veiled accusation. Denial hovered on his lips, but he didn't bother. Why should he? He dropped her hand and said gruffly, "Actually, that's why I'm here. We need to talk." Alicia vigorously rubbed her wrist, as though she was trying to erase his touch. "So, are you planning to finally go public with her?" Joshua's expression twisted instantly, his calm facade cracking. "What do you know? Did you have me stalked by a private investigator or something?" Alicia let out a soft, humorless laugh. "Is that necessary? Last night, you spared no expense to make her happy. Even a blind person could tell you're mad about her." He stared at her, unsettled by her icy tone. It was still her voice, still Alicia, but there was something different about her... For some reason, he felt inexplicably hurt, like a thorn pricking his heart. Perhaps it was the way she looked at him now--her eyes, once warm and filled with love for him, were now completely empty. There was no anger, no pain, just... nothing. It was a stark contrast to the woman who used to look at him as if he were her entire world. For reasons he couldn't explain, the sight of her like this stirred something in him, an unfamiliar dissatisfaction. Annoyed by his own reaction, Joshua decided to hit back, his voice harder now. "She's pregnant. It's a delicate pregnancy, so I bought her a little something to lift her spirits." Alicia's fists clenched before she could stop them. Pgnant? So, the nights she had stayed up waiting for him to come home, he'd been with another woman, working diligently to start a new family? Seeing Alicia wince a little, Joshua felt a flicker of satisfaction. "It's not that I don't want to touch you," he said, voice dripping with condescension. "You're just about as thrilling as watching paint dry. No man would want that." His cruel words pierced through Alicia, yet she managed to remain composed on the surface. It wasn't that she avoided intimacy; she just wasn't the one to initiate it. Did that make her so undesirable? Was it a sin? Taking a slow, steady breath, Alicia willed herself to stay calm. "Fine," she replied quietly. "Let's get a divorce then. You can give her the title she wants." The word "divorce" made Joshua's eyelid twitch involuntarily. He scoffed, eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Is this another one of your games?" Convinced he was right, his voice grew colder, more biting. "Alicia, for two years, you've pulled every childish stunt, begging for my attention. Aren't you tired yet? Because I sure as hell am." He paused, letting his disdain sink in. "You claim to love me so much. Could you really walk away from me?" Alicia couldn't help the bitter laugh that escaped her. Love him? Did he even understand what that meant? When Joshua's business had crumbled, leaving him with nothing but debt and shattered dreams, it had been Alicia who emptied her savings to pull him from the wreckage. Out of gratitude--or maybe obligation--he had married her. For two long years, she had been the dutiful wife, supporting him as he clawed his way to success. And what had Alicia gotten in return? She had been cast aside like a useless relic, while another woman carried his child. Her love, her loyalty, had been ground into the dirt beneath his feet. To care for this man any longer would be masochism. Her voice steady, Alicia said, "Draft the divorce agreement. I'll agree to whatever terms you want." And with that, she turned and disappeared through the door, leaving Joshua standing alone in the hallway. For a moment, he stared after her angrily, but then a cold, mocking smile tugged at his lips. Fine, she can play the martyr. He doubted she could keep it up for long. Storming out of the house, Joshua headed straight to the apartment where his lover, Lilliana Green, awaited him. "Well, that was fast," she teased upon hearing Joshua was getting a divorce, raising a brow. "Seems she wasn't as tough to deal with as you claimed." "She's cunning," Joshua muttered, the edge of suspicion creeping into his voice. "I don't know if she's actually agreeing to the divorce or just playing me." Lilliana's arms draping lazily around his neck, "Relax, Joshua, even if she changes her mind, it's too late." Joshua's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?" Chapter 3 Letting Go Lilliana's eyes flickered with shadowy intent. She wasn't foolish enough to show her cards now, so she waved it off with an effortless excuse. "During your two-year marriage, she has lived quietly in the shadows as a mere housewife, disconnected from your world. When you're assertive, would she dare to say a word?" Joshua pursed his lips into a hard line. During the past two years, Alicia had indeed done everything for him--given him support and solace. She had loved him fiercely, but at the end of it all, what value did love truly hold? Against all odds, he had clawed his way to the top, and he'd finally grasped the power he craved. That success, however, hadn't come easy, and it wasn't love that secured his position--it was alliances with the powerful. The prestige of the Green family daughter, that title alone, was worth far more than Alicia's devoted love. As these thoughts plagued his mind, Lilliana said happily, "Joshua, congratulations on escaping the grind. Shall we celebrate?" For a moment, Joshua's gaze flickered down to her, but Alicia's indifferent face suddenly flashed before his eyes. Since leaving the house earlier, Alicia hadn't once called him to ask for his whereabouts. Before, if he had been upset with her, she would've called him in a panic. A sharp, inexplicable irritation surged within him. Without thinking, he pushed Lilliana back, "You're only a few weeks' pregnant. Be careful." Lilliana, sharp as ever, sensed he was distracted. "Joshua, what's wrong?" she asked gently. "Don't you want to get divorced?" Joshua's response was instant. "Of course I want to divorce her." Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. "Then why don't you seem very happy?" Joshua offered a quick excuse, his voice steady but distant. "My father's condition has worsened. He doesn't have much time left, and Caden returned last night. He's likely here to claim his inheritance. I need to figure out how to handle him." Lilliana blinked, momentarily thrown. "Caden? Your brother from your father's first marriage? He doesn't even carry the Yates name anymore. What right does he have to fight you for the inheritance?" Joshua's expression darkened. It was true--but at the end of the day, he was still the son of a home-wrecker. All these years of relentless effort had not only been to carve out a name for himself in the Yates family, but to push Caden into the shadows where he belonged. One way or another, Joshua was hell-bent on winning. Meanwhile, Alicia stirred from her sleep. Darkness had already fallen, yet she felt even more drained than before. It was because her dreams revolved around that stranger. when her phone buzzed with a call from Monica did she snap out of her daze. "Alicia, I got your bld test results. I passed them to a friend of mine with some serious connections. He's digging around to see who bought the stuff." Alicia sat up a little straighter, her mind sharpening. "Thanks, Monica. Appreciate it." "If you really want to thank me, do me a favor: stop obsessing over that j*k. And after the divorce, focus on your career. You owe me that much." Alicia's chest warmed, her head lowering in quiet gratitude. "I know, I know." Now that she thought about it, she had come to the realization that her feelings for Joshua had never been pure love--they were born out of a debt, a sense of obligation. Her family's expectations had always weighed heavily on her, and in that lonely, stifled childhood, it was Joshua who had been there. His companionship had nurtured a vague affection she'd confused for love. "Lucky for me, love's never been something I've held onto tightly," Alicia murmured. "These last two years... I'll just see it as repaying his kindness." Monica paused, her usual boldness tempered with thoughtfulness. She knew better than anyone how, once upon a time, Joshua had indeed loved Alicia. But, it turned out love could be a fleeting thing. "Alicia, I really hope you've let go for good," Monica said with a convicted sigh. A sharp pang hit Alicia's chest, her eyes stinging as she fought back the urge to cry. Quickly, she pressed her hand to her eyelids, refusing to let the tears fall. It was only then she noticed something startling. Stunned, she stared at her hand. The wedding ring--something she had once held onto so tightly--was gone. Gone for a whole day and night, and she hadn't even noticed. Suddenly, her heart felt lighter, the weight of everything she'd been carrying beginning to lift. She whispered, more to herself than anyone, "Yes, I've truly let go." ... It didn't take long for Joshua to notice. He had returned to grab something quickly when his eyes fell on her hand. His brow furrowed as he asked, without thinking, "Where's your wedding ring?" Chapter 4 Her Nemesis Alicia's only concern now was leaving Joshua, so she ignored his question and asked flatly, "Are the divorce papers ready yet?" That word again--"divorce". Irritation flickered across Joshua's eyes. "What's the rush?" he snapped, his voice cold and sharp. "My father's finalizing his will, and if word gets out about my divorce, it'll ruin my standing. Now, pack your things--we're having dinner at the Yates Mansion this afternoon." With Caden's return, the family was throwing a welcome-home dinner for him. They also hoped that by doing so, it'd lift the spirits of Jerald Yates, Joshua's father. However, maintaining the charade of a happy marriage was the last thing on Alicia's mind. "I'm not going," she announced curtly. "Just get the divorce finalized and stop wasting my time." Joshua laughed, a sound that held no warmth. "Oh, come on, Alicia. Stop pretending. You hid the ring because you don't actually want to leave me, right? You can't stand the thought of being without me." He leaned in, smirking, and added, "You've worked hard these past two years. Even if we divorce, I'll still take care of you--as long as you keep me happy." Alicia's eyes widened, disbelief turning into anger. Hid the ring? Couldn't bear to be without him? His arrogant words sounded like nails on a chalkboard to Alicia's ears. With a sharp sneer, she shot back, "Oh, Mr. Yates, how could I possibly make you happy? Don't worry, I'll return the ring--wouldn't want this plain Jane to irk you, right? Once you have it, we're finalizing the divorce immediately." But Joshua wasn't fazed by her venom. He thought he knew her too well, convinced this was just another ploy to get his attention. Without thinking too much, he tossed a bag at her. "We've got guests today. Dress appropriately, and don't make me look bad." Alicia looked down at the bag, her mind flashing back to the countless times she had visited the mansion dressed in modest, unassuming clothes-- doing everything to blend in, to please him and his family. But now, with their divorce looming on the horizon, Alicia no longer cared to play the part of a dutiful wife. After slipping into the outfit, she carefully applied a touch of makeup, just enough to bring out the vibrance in her already flawless complexion. The subtle enhancements accentuated her smooth skin and delicate features, lending her a certain glow. When Joshua saw her descending the staircase, he froze for a brief moment, eyes lingering. Perhaps it was the way the dress hugged Alicia's graceful curves, making her seem more alluring than usual. At the entrance of the Yates Mansion, they both slipped into their familiar roles, masking the tension between them with practiced ease. Alicia casually looped her arm through Joshua's, their movements synchronized as they walked into the courtyard. Though Jerald was too ill to receive anyone, the grand hall bustled with life, relatives filling the space with chatter. The noise hummed around her, but for some reason, as soon as Alicia crossed the threshold, a sharp chill pricked at her skin. She instinctively looked up, her gaze immediately drawn to the figure lounging casually at the far end of the room. Legs crossed, dark shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a sliver of his collarbone, the man oozed arrogance, his presence commanding. When Alicia's eyes finally met his-- a familiar, authoritative stare that pinned her in place-- her mind raced as emotions began to surge uncontrollably. Joshua noticed the shift in her demeanor, his brows furrowing as he asked, "What's going on with you?" Alicia's breath caught in her throat. One word escaped her lips, barely audible. "Caden?" Just the mention of his name sent a chill down her spine. To her, Caden was the embodiment of her nightmares. Due to their families' friendship, their paths first crossed at the tender age of ten. Caden, having taken a year off, transferred to her school, and from that moment, Alicia's perfect world began to unravel. She could no longer claim the top spot. No matter how relentless her efforts, no matter how late she stayed up studying, Caden was always a step ahead. He would outscore her by the smallest of margins--a point, maybe two--leaving her perpetually stranded in second place. Anyone else might have accepted defeat, settled into the role of runner-up. But not Alicia. Born into the once prestigious Bennett family, she was raised under the suffocating weight of living up to her family name. Excellence wasn't just a goal--it was the currency by which she could earn her parents' affection. Failure was not an option, yet Caden had the audacity to snatch away everything she'd worked for with what seemed like effortless ease. It was as if he'd set his sights on her from the very beginning, and Alicia, stubborn to a fault, refused to back down. Their rivalry spanned over a decade, a relentless battle fought both openly and in the shadows, and their final showdown took place in college, just before their graduation, at the national competition. Alicia poured her heart and soul into that moment, her focus razor-sharp as she aimed for nothing less than perfection. And she achieved it, having garnered a perfect score. But Caden, ever the serpent, had bribed the judges, twisting the results in his favor. Alicia was forced, once again, into second place. The sting of injustice was deep, but the harshest blow came from her father, Phil Bennett. Over the phone, his voice dripped with disappointment in her ranking. Alicia, having grown accustomed to his tirades, said nothing. She waited for his anger to ebb, then asked quietly, "I'm graduating soon. Will you come back?" Her mother, Donna, had always been her softer solace. She comforted Alicia that day, promising they'd be there for her graduation. But life had other plans. Phil and Donna, rushing back from Itrubisite to attend the graduation, perished in a tragic plane crash. Overnight, Alicia's world crumbled, left an orphan in this cruel world. Since that day, she had never challenged Caden again. Afterward, Caden left Warrington to build his career overseas. ... "He's back for the inheritance," Joshua muttered, his voice barely audible. Alicia cast him a sidelong glance as he continued, "With a family empire as big as ours, an eldest son like him wouldn't give up so easily." Her brow furrowed slightly. It was true--the Yates empire was massive, a legacy most would kill for. But Caden had accumulated his own fortune, surpassing even the family's vast wealth. Did he really care about the inheritance? Then again, this was Caden. Competing was in his blood. Even if he didn't care about the fortune itself, he'd fight tooth and nail just to win, to toy with everyone else. The man had a knack for stirring chaos purely for his own amusement. Alicia had been his rival for as long as she could remember, and even now, the thought of giving him so much as a glance felt like a waste of energy. She turned to walk away. But Joshua caught her wrist, his grip firm yet tense. "I know you two don't get along," he said. "But he's still my elder brother. We need to maintain appearances." Her body stiffened at the touch, and she immediately tried to pull her hand free. Joshua's frown deepened. "Alicia, behave," he hissed. Irritation flared in her chest. "I'm not refusing to go in. Just let go of me first. I don't want your filthy hands touching me." A flicker of something dark passed over Joshua's face, and instead of releasing her, he intertwined their fingers, squeezing them tight. Alicia bit her tongue, silently fuming. As they neared, Caden's gaze slowly lifted, his eyes narrowing in a lazy, almost bored assessment of them. "Caden," Joshua greeted, his tone strained, meeting his brother's gaze with forced cordiality. Caden's eyes flicked to their entwined hands, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Your girlfriend?" he asked indifferently, as though he didn't recognize Alicia. Chapter 5 We Meet Again So Soon Alicia's nerves coiled tight like a spring. That voice... Her messy thoughts blurred into chaos, but one thing broke through the haze--Joshua's calm declaration. "Alicia and I have been married for two years now. She cares about me, so we kept it low-key. Just went straight for the registration; no ceremony. You were busy abroad at the time, so we didn't bother you." Caden arched a brow, his voice laced with venomous mockery. "Oh, so she's my sister-in-law." The way he spat the words "sister-in-law" felt more like a sap than a title, leaving no doubt about his contempt for her. Alicia could feel the man's sneer underneath every syllable. And all this was thanks to her so-called husband, Joshua. Her hand trembled as she snatched a tissue, vigorously wiping her hand. "Looks like Alicia's a bit of a germophobe," Caden observed, his tone a casual jab at her disgust. Joshua's expression darkened, the tension between them thickening. He hadn't expected her to humiliate him like this. "It seems I've spoiled her too much," he muttered, his voice low and tight with irritation. Caden's eyes gleamed with a dangerous glint. "If it's a serious condition, she should get treated. It could impact her role as a mother. You know how badly our father has wanted a grandchild." At this, something flickered across Joshua's eyes. Even though Alicia, his wife, was right beside him, he went ahead and lied through his teeth. "Thanks for the concern, Caden, but I already have good news for Dad. I just haven't gotten around to telling him yet." Caden's smirk deepened, his gaze flicking toward Alicia, who was about done with the bullshit of a charade. She quietly excused herself and strode off. "How far along is she?" he asked meaningfully. "Doesn't seem like she's pregnant." Joshua didn't miss a beat. "Just a month." The answer was as much a threat as it was an announcement. Now, the inheritance stakes had just been raised, and Jerald, ever focused on continuing the family line, would certainly take his unborn grandchild into consideration. Caden's smile hardened, and Joshua delivered the final blow with a smug undertone. "You'd better catch up, Caden. I can't always be one step ahead." Caden, unfazed, waved his hand lazily. "No rush." ... Alicia stepped onto the terrace, the cool night breeze washing over her skin. She drank in the fresh air hungrily to steady her nerves. Pulling out her phone, she quickly dialed the manager of the private cinema again. "Have you found the ring?" she asked anxiously. The manager hesitated, sounding troubled. "Ms. Bennett, we've searched thoroughly and questioned all the staff, but... we really couldn't find any ring." "Then..." Alicia clenched her fist, her mind racing. "Do you have the contact details of the guest who booked the room that day?" "I'm sorry, but due to our privacy policy, we can't disclose any information on our clients." Her heart sank. "I see," she sighed with resignation. "Please tell me immediately if anything turns up, okay?" In a perfect world, she could've just bought an identical ring and pass it off for the original. Unfortunately, Joshua had that ring custom-made, and it wasn't easy to replicate. After dinner, it started to rain. The relatives began to trickle out one by one. Joshua stood by her side as they made their way to the car, his eyes trailing down to her bare wrist. "If you liked that bracelet at the auction, then I can buy you something like it," he said coolly. Alicia had to resist the urge to roll her eyes sardonically. She didn't believe for a second that Joshua had a change of heart towards her. "Trying to buy my silence, huh?" Her words were sharp, slicing right through Joshua's tender facade. "No need. I have no desire to be tangled up in your affairs." Joshua hadn't intended to sound like that, but her mocking tone struck a nerve. His jaw clenched, and a bitter smile crossed his lips. "Fine. Don't take it. The money I spend on you is a waste anyway." Alicia bit the inside of her cheek before adding firmly, "Joshua, I already told you. I'm willing to leave this marriage empty-handed. Let's sign the divorce papers tomorrow morning and end this once and for all." His smile twisted into something dark, something dangerous. "What about the ring?" "I lost it." Joshua's eyes narrowed, his tone unrelenting. "I don't care about anything else. I want the ring." She could barely contain her frustration, her breath hitching as he delivered his final blow. "If you can't find it," he said coldly, "I'll assume you're holding onto it because you still care about me." Just then, Joshua's phone rang; it was Lilliana calling. "Joshua." She mewled his name pitifully. "The thunder is so loud. I'm scared to sleep alone... Can you come over?" The car wasn't heading anywhere near Lilliana's and Joshua was furious with Alicia, so without a second thought, he kicked her out into the rain and sped off. He didn't even leave her an umbrella. Alicia stood frozen by the roadside, the downpour quickly soaking through her clothes. The cold rain seeped into her bones, chilling her to the core. Gritting her chattering teeth, she swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth and began trudging along the drenched pavement. Behind her, the soft hum of an engine crept closer. A sleek, low-profile Maybach rolled up beside her, its headlights cutting through the rain. "Mr. Ward," the driver said, glancing back, "I believe that's Ms. Bennett." The car slowed to a stop. Caden glanced out the window, his sharp eyes narrowing on Alicia's lonesome figure. She had just paused, her fingers gathering the fabric of her soaked dress, tying it up to ease her stride. Caden's lips curled into a faint. "Invite her inside," he drawled. The car came to a halt next to Alicia. The driver stepped out, holding a large umbrella over her head, his voice polite. "Ms. Bennett, it's hard to find a cab at this hour. May I offer you a ride home?" Alicia's eyes flicked up, recognizing the man as the Yates family's driver. She hesitated for a moment before nodding, her voice soft but steady. "Thank you. Sorry for the inconvenience." However, as soon as she slipped into the backseat of the car, she locked eyes with its other passenger--Caden. "We meet again so soon, sister-in-law?" His voice, smooth as velvet, carried a hint of mischief. ...... 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/63310322-fb_contact-e	Graceful Gales	https://www.facebook.com/61566363901062/	136	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more		fbweb.moboreader.net	VIDEO		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/63310322-fb_contact-ena265_2-1228-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=060236&accid=461757146675392&exdata=862D17A8066703E14B5076C30444B10FC1AA907C0E1BB992	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481054157_3988998664752217_7731836537023607829_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=9SeCc35f49cQ7kNvgHhfMB8&_nc_oc=Adglg2c59hFZpVyh4BEiSXSjv935Nb0WXntcAx0xh_Rw1Cv_EjlVFQlLNu8RgPNPIW3Hqduoq3HufliPUBYRquCZ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AKKs2JOQirhir41eNtIzQ_6&oh=00_AYBSKsKxioLnTQiwp9q0NLBHHAUgxXrY-2fJTMC70GyogA&oe=67CB92AF	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Graceful Gales	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,083	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2747080}'	Yes	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	Read the Full Version👉	For seven years, I've been Castro Harrison's secret lover. Our love was hidden in the shadows, but his kisses and promises kept me willing to stay. I thought he would finally acknowledge me—until that day when I overheard him talking with his friends. It turned out I was nothing more than a substitute. That night, I finally stepped into the room he had forbidden me from entering. On the desk, there was a picture frame—inside, a photo of him and another woman locked in a tight embrace, the Eiffel Tower in Paris in the background. At that moment, my heart turned completely cold. I erased every trace of myself in a single night and left without looking back. One minute before my flight took off, I sent my brother a message. "This afternoon, have the man you chose come and register the marriage." For seven years, I've been in a secret relationship with Castro Harrison, my brother's best friend. Just as I was hoping he'd propose, I tracked his location to a private lounge at an upscale restaurant, where I found they were joking about me. "Castro, now that Oriana's back from London, what are you going to do about that replacement?" Castro remained silent, his lack of response speaking volumes. The tension in the air was broken by another friend's sardonic laugh. "You've got to hand it to Castro–having the nerve to pursue William Blackwood's sister while Oriana was away. Now that you've had your fun, and Oriana's back..." "Well, Oriana deserved it after how coldly she left. A replacement was just what she needed to teach her a lesson!" ...... The next day, Castro took me to Oriana's welcome-home party at the Blackwood Estate, lavishing attention on me with an almost theatrical display of affection. But when Oriana ran out in tears, her Chanel dress stained with wine, Castro pushed me aside without a second thought and rush out. I returned home alone, my cream silk blouse ruined by scalding soup and my skin was still stinging. With trembling hands, I finally opened the door to his study---the one room he'd always declared off-limits. There, prominently displayed on his mahogany desk, was a photograph of him and Oriana in Paris, the Eiffel Tower gleaming behind their embracing figures. My heart turned to ice as I dialed my brother's number in Switzerland. "William... about that arranged marriage–I'll do it." "Aveline?" My brother's voice softened with concern, catching the unfamiliar strain in my tone. "What's wrong? This doesn't sound like you at all." A lump formed in my throat, but I forced a light laugh. "Nothing's wrong. I just realized - marriage is inevitable, isn't it? Does it really matter who it is?" "Besides," I continued, trying to keep my voice steady. "I trust your and father's judgment. Even for a business merger marriage, I know you would have vetted the candidate thoroughly." William's relief was audible through the phone. "I'm glad you're being sensible about this. When are you coming back? Would you like to meet him first before making your final decision?" "No need. The sooner we proceed, the sooner we can resolve the company's crisis. Go ahead and start planning the wedding. Let's set it for... a month from now." "Perfect! By the way, have you heard from Castro?" he coninued, "His first love is finally back in town. You should invite him to the wedding - let him share in your happiness." So William knew about Oriana too. No wonder Castro never let me tell my brother about us. I lowered my eyes, concealing the pain that threatened to spill over. "Don't bother him, Will. We're... not that close." Hearing the door unlock, I quickly said goodbye and ended the call. I looked up to find Castro leaning against the doorframe, his signature smirk playing across his lips. "Not close to whom?" "You." My honest answer only made his smirk widen as he pulled me into his arms. "Oh really?" His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "Should we discuss just how 'not close' we are? All those nights together weren't close enough?" His breath was hot against my ear, and for the first time, his intimate gesture made my skin crawl instead of flutter. As I struggled, I caught sight of the lipstick stain on his collar - a shade I'd never worn. The movement aggravated my scalds, sending sharp stabs of pain through my body until tears sprang to my eyes. "What's wrong, sweetheart? Are you hurt?" My tears seemed to spark genuine panic in Castro. When he pushed up my sleeve and saw the angry red scalds on my wrist, his voice trembled with concern. “God, when did this happen? Why didn't you tell me you were scalded?” He seemed to have completely forgotten about the incident at the party. I remained silent, unsure whether to remind him and shatter his façade of devotion. "Stop crying, darling. Let me get some medicine for that." He stroked my hair soothingly before standing to retrieve the first aid kit, muttering as he walked. "You're still such a child sometimes, aren't you? So sensitive to pain, so quick to tears. What would you do without me?" I stared numbly at the scalds on my wrist. Yes, what would I do without him after seven years of his "protection"? But Castro... I don't want you anymore. I don't want this false love anymore! I spent a restless night, tossing and turning, my skin clammy with fever sweat on the sheets. At dawn, Castro tried to coax me out of bed. When I mumbled protests and pushed him away, he leaned in with an amused smile to kiss me. For the first time in seven years, his kiss made me flinch. My hand instinctively rose to slap him but I caught myself. Thankfully, it was just a brief peck. "Awake yet, sleeping beauty?" he teased. I turned away, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "It's Saturday. Why can't you let me sleep?" His expression softened with concern. "You were running a fever last night. Come on, we need to get you to the hospital." Though I felt better, his insistence won out and I reluctantly got dressed. In the hospital corridor, we ran into Oriana. She was hobbling along alone, clearly having injured her ankle. Castro's gentle demeanor vanished instantly. His brow furrowed with worry as he rushed to her side, steadying her with his hands. "What happened to you?" Oriana gave him a warm smile, then glanced meaningfully at me. "Just twisted my ankle. What a coincidence seeing you both here." Castro tensed, throwing me a quick, guilty look. "Ah yes, my friend's sister wasn't feeling well. Brought her in to check her fever." I was long used to this charade. From the moment Castro decided to keep our relationship secret, he'd introduced me to all his friends as his best friend's sister who he'd promised to look after. Only his innermost circle knew the truth about us. "You're such a good guardian to the poor girl." Oriana nodded sympathetically. Well, don't let me keep you - my appointment's down that way." She gestured toward a clinic door further down the hall. When she started to hop again, Castro didn't hesitate. He swept her up into his arms bridal-style. "Let me take you there." he said eagerly, "Aveline, wait here for me, alright?" Watching them, something inside me crumbled. My fever seemed to return full force, leaving me weak and dizzy. I leaned against the cold hospital wall, not bothering to respond. The stark white corridor suddenly felt endless and empty, much like my future without him. Castro didn't wait for my response - he was already carrying Oriana toward the clinic, her arms wrapped around his neck. How telling. No matter how well he played his part, his true feelings always surfaced around Oriana, betraying everything he tried to hide. Yet he seemed completely oblivious to his own transparency. I let out a bitter laugh and headed to my own appointment. My suspicions were confirmed - my temperature was 106°F. The doctor explained that my untreated scalds, combined with emotional stress, had led to an infection. I needed immediate IV antibiotics. My finger hovered over Castro's number out of habit before I caught myself. Habits really are terrifying things, aren't they? With a self-deprecating smile, I handled everything alone - getting the prescription and finding the IV treatment room. After the treatment, I felt even worse, nearly collapsing as I tried to walk. However, Castro hadn't returned - not even a text or call. Reluctantly, I called him. "You're still at the hospital?" He sounded surprised. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I was going to drop Oriana home quickly and come back, but her stomach condition flared up and..." But his explanation was cut short by a waitress's voice in the background: "Sir, your meals are served. Buon apetite!" Despite his rushed attempt to muffle the phone, I heard every word. "It's fine. I can handle on my own!" I said, as much to convince myself as him. Before I could hang up, he called out, "Aveline, go home first. I'll explain everything later." What was there to explain? Just another lie to add to his collection. I ended the call and ordered an Uber home. Castro didn't return that night. Unable to sleep through the New Year's fireworks outside, I worked on some jewelry designs for my clients on my iPad. Accidentally touching the messaging app icon, I saw Oriana's social media post from an hour ago - a stunning photo of fireworks lighting up the night sky, captioned: "After years of wandering, I've come home to you. The fireworks welcome me back, just as brilliant as your love. Worth every moment of waiting." I stared at the screen for a long moment before realizing I was logged into Castro's account on my iPad. I had no interest in reading their intimate messages. I logged out immediately, trying to ignore the hollow feeling in my heart. The next morning, feeling somewhat better, I arrived at the design firm right on time. Sarah, my creative director, held my resignation letter with mixed emotions when I told her about returning home for marriage. "First my best jewelry designer leaves for marriage," she sighed, shaking her head. "The studio won't be the same without you." Words failed me, so I hugged her instead, grateful for her mentorship over the years. News of my departure spread quickly through the office. My colleagues insisted on throwing me a farewell dinner. I suggested the Italian restaurant Castro and I frequented - partly because I didn't know many others, but mostly because their seafood risotto was exceptional. During dinner, I excused myself to the wash my hand, only to find Oriana touching up her makeup at the marble vanity. "What a coincidence!" She smiled warmly at my reflection. "You know, Castro first brought me here during our college days. We've had so many special moments in this place since then." I returned a polite smile and turned to leave, seeing no reason for small talk between us. But Oriana wasn't finished. She called after me, "I noticed something the other night - Castro always rinses the spicy sauce off your shrimp. Are you sensitive to spice too?" That single word - "too" - made me freeze. The truth was, I loved spicy food. But Castro always insisted on rinsing my shrimp, claiming spicy food wasn't ladylike. I'd believed he was being protective. Now I realized he was simply acting on habit. It’s Oriana, who couldn't handle spice. Seeing my silence, she tilted her head, studying my face with unsettling intensity. "You know, I've been meaning to say this since I first saw you... Don't you think we look remarkably similar?" I'd never felt more humiliated. Under her triumphant gaze, I fled the bathroom, the pieces finally falling into place - I hadn't been his love, I'd been her replacement. Back in the private dining room, my colleagues' warmth slowly thawed my frozen state. Just as I was beginning to push aside the unpleasant encounter, the door swung open. Castro stood in the doorway, his Armani suit slightly disheveled, his eyes scanning the crowded room before landing on me with laser focus. In that moment of eye contact, I saw barely contained rage in his expression, though I couldn't fathom why. "Aveline." His voice cut through the chatter like ice. "A word?" Following him into the marble-lined hallway, I was utterly unprepared for what happened next. His hand connected with my cheek in a sharp crack that echoed off the pristine walls. In seven years, he had never raised a hand to me. "How dare you push Oriana?" Meeting my shocked gaze, he showed no remorse - only fury. "You knew her ankle was injured. I told you I'd explain everything later - is this your way of getting revenge?" My cheek stung where he'd struck me. Oriana limped toward us from down the hallway. Her designer blouse was rumpled and stained with water. Before I could defend myself, she collapsed dramatically to the floor. Castro shoved past me, rushing to gather her in his arms. "Why did you follow us? I told you I'd bring her to apologize," he said to Oriana, his harsh words belied by his tender tone. Oriana shook her head, tears glistening. "It's nothing serious. She probably didn't mean it. Don't be so hard on her." "If William finds out you struck his sister..." she added softly. At the mention of my brother, something flickered in Castro's eyes. But looking at Oriana, his resolve hardened. "William trusted me with her care," he said firmly. "If she needs correction, that's my responsibility." I let out a bitter laugh. "What exactly did I do? Even criminals get due process. You're denouncing and striking me without any evidence - doesn't that seem unjust to you?" Castro's fists clenched as he glared at me. "You knew there were no cameras in the restroom. That's why you chose to attack her there." The absurdity of it all made me want to laugh and cry simultaneously. "If there were no cameras, how can you be so sure it was me?" "Because Oriana wouldn't lie!" He took a step toward me, his cologne - the one she'd given him years ago, I now realized - overwhelming. "What possible reason would she have? I've known her for years. She's not capable of that kind of deception." I met his gaze, unflinching. "So I must be the liar then?" Seven years together. I'd thought that would mean something - that Castro would at least trust my character. But in Oriana's presence, those seven years might as well have been seven minutes. “Her word alone was enough to convict me. One accusation, and I was guilty beyond redemption.” The favoritism was unmistakable, his blind devotion to her undeniable. And me? I was just the understudy who'd forgotten her place. There was no point in arguing further. Ignoring Castro's angry calls, I walked away, my cheek still stinging from his slap. Not wanting to cast a shadow over my colleagues' celebration, I quietly settled the bill and texted them: "Something came up. Please enjoy the rest of the evening - dinner's on me." Back home, I found myself really seeing our apartment for the first time in seven years. Every corner held memories: the window seat where we'd shared Sunday morning coffee, the kitchen island where he'd taught me to make his grandmother's tiramisu. What once felt magical now felt poisonous, each memory a thorn in my heart. I found a moving box and spent the night methodically erasing our relationship: the matching "Beauty and Beast" slippers, the "his and hers" coffee mugs that fit together, and a whole collection of professional couple photographs - holiday cards, vacation shots, carefully staged moments of perfect happiness. These had been my security blanket, my proof that what we had was real. Now they were just artifacts of an elaborate performance. Castro didn't come home for two weeks. Between finishing my last jewelry designs,, I systematically emptied the apartment. I sold or donated every piece of furniture I'd chosen, every decorative touch I'd added. The space returned to its original state: stark minimalist, black and white, emptiness echoing off the walls. The night before my departure, I tried calling him one last time. Each attempt met with immediate rejection. Finally, a text appeared: "Unless you're ready to admit your guilt and properly apologize to Oriana, we have nothing to discuss." I laughed bitterly at my phone's screen. So be it. Some conversations were better left unsaid. My early morning flight beckoned. As I wheeled my suitcase out, this space that had once felt so precious now felt like a prison I was finally escaping. Just before boarding, my phone lit up with birthday wishes. Friends and colleagues sending hopes for my future, wishes for happiness, prayers for true love. I responded to each one before switching off my phone. As the plane lifted off, I made a silent promise to myself: I would be happy. With so many people wishing me well, how could I not be? 【5909】	LEARN_MORE	https://image.noveltells.net/landing-page/h5-1290.	FavoRead	https://www.facebook.com/100083109648305/	1,151	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more		image.noveltells.net	IMAGE	For seven years, I've been in a secret relationship with Castro Harrison, my brother's best friend. Just as I was hoping he'd propose, I tracked his location to a private lounge at an upscale restaurant, where I found they were joking about me.	https://image.noveltells.net/landing-page/h5-1290.html?id=1290&yy_appname=Favoread&badid={{ad.id}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481152945_1601328447418318_5933358441106969236_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xadc4OhmYuEQ7kNvgFXYSwL&_nc_oc=AdidW0qJpJBtn4l5DyXxggWSlumXTcGIY6KzzeDdZwHQ0VdcNfCWj6782cfDs8ng1ZcoMVn15CcGFyRG8PHUgoVm&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AKKs2JOQirhir41eNtIzQ_6&oh=00_AYB3CrEY7LeUVodxgKtwFA3hwV3g6n4mQ1W7d6y6mGKZEw&oe=67CB95EB	PERSON_PROFILE	0	FavoRead	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,092	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2747089}'	Yes	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	🔥Top novel👉Click to read more chapters	"I was wondering if you'd like to go to homecoming with me," I ask Maddox, the school popular guy. My evil cousin and her friends forced me to do that. Now they are snickering and laughing with their hands over their mouths. "Okay," he says in his semi-familiar deep voice. "Well, I tried," I mutter before I suddenly went rigid. "Wait, what did you say?" "I said okay," he repeats as if annoyed. "O... Okay...?" The guy who turned down every girl at school? After I accidentally spilled my lunch all over him? "Wear red, it's your color." he responds. Great, my cousin’s gonna end me in my sleep tonight. Prologue "You must be Olivia," the blonde in front of me speaks in a bored manner, brushing a strand of wavy, blonde hair over her shoulder. I nod, trying to ignore the fact that she's nearly a foot taller than me. She's definitely grown up quite a bit since the last time I've seen her, given that was almost nine years ago. I'm sure I grew as well...a couple of inches at the most. "You must be Vivica," I smile at my cousin. She doesn't exactly smile back; instead she shifts her cheer-leading bag on her shoulder and looks at her mother. Rude. "Chelsea and Tracy are coming over at five. Can we get a pizza?" she inquires as she traces her long, manicured nail. Her mother nods. "Yeah, can Olivia hang out with you guys?" my aunt asks and I immediately feel my face go red. I spent the time Vivica wasn't home preparing for when she arrived. I got a drink and a snack just so I wouldn't have to engage in conversation with my stuck-up cousin. Now my aunt's just throwing me into the fire. "No, it's fine! I can, uh, I can make my own friends," I attempt to dismiss in an attempt to not make Vivica hate me anymore than she apparently already does. I have a feeling that I left quite the impression on my cousin all those years back. Vivica glares at her mother with narrowed eyes. When my parents told me that I was going to be coming here for the rest of my junior year, I tried to keep an open mind. However, the day before I was dropped off, my mom decided to let me know what exactly I was going to face. She warned me about my cousin's personality and her "impoliteness," as my mother called it. Basically, my mom said that she was spoiled and ungrateful. Well, she didn't exactly say the words, but she said something along those lines. A few years back, when I was around eight years old, I had to come and stay with Aunt Genevieve, Uncle Thomas, and Vivica during the summer. Vivica, however, went to a day camp; I remember her yanking me aside and demanding that I stay out of her room. I also remember hitting her and telling her not to touch me. And then I remember my father coming back to get me a few hours later, even though I had been there for only a week. "No, Vivica won't mind, right, dear?" Aunt Genevieve asks, looking at her daughter with the pointed expression that I know too well. My mother has the same one, probably because the two are sisters. Honestly, I don't want to hang out with Vivica and her friends. But I also remember my mother telling me to treat my aunt well and to not take advantage of her kindness, seeing as her daughter already does. "Of course not," Vivica says with a flat expression. I feel awkward as I stand between the two with my gaze locked on my feet. I hear footsteps and a door closing quite aggressively. Knowing that it was Vivica throwing a tantrum because of me, I hold back a sigh. My father won't be coming to get me anytime soon. "I'm sorry, she's just been having a bad week," my aunt excuses, trying to rack her brain for a potential reason as to why her daughter has been experiencing a bad few days. "She, uh, failed her French test." I nod and, with a short lived smile, head towards my room. Not all of us can be good at French, you know? "She'll warm up to you, I promise!" my aunt calls from behind me and I nod again before opening and closing the door to my new room. I'm sure she will...when I'm leaving. And who knows when that will be? And who knows if I can keep my cool until then? - + It's approximately 5:26 when Chelsea and Tracy appear and my mood immediately drop. I'm fetched from my room, where I'm hiding and unpacking my things, by a light knock on my door. Aunt Genevieve insists that I hang out with the girls no matter how much I protest. "No, I think I'll just unpack. And I need to study my schedule and the school map so I won't get lost." "No, it's okay I'll just stay in here." "I'm tired from the car ride; I'm going to take a nap." I'm going to punch your daughter in the face if she says something to me. Well, of course I didn't say that last one. I mean, my parents taught me some manners. The point is that no matter how many excuses I conjure up, there's no way I'm getting out of this. As my aunt drags me down the hall to Vivica's room, I'm thinking up excuses as to why I could leave early. Obviously, Vivica won't want me there, and I doubt her friends will. I feel like an intruder- a violent, reluctant intruder. We reach the door and a loud honking from outside jolts my aunt. "That's the pizza, I'll be right back. Stay here," she tells me before running off to the kitchen. As I stand outside of the door, I hear faint voices from inside, followed by laughter. "Well, on Friday, he crashed Adrianna's party. They got so drunk and they were trying to drive the four-wheelers around in the woods but the cops came," a voice I recognize as Vivica's relays. "Anyway, back to what I wanted to tell you guys, I asked him." "Don't tell me you asked him when the police arrived," one of the other girls responds in a joking voice. "No, Chelsea. I asked him before everything went down. I left as soon as the cops showed up. The last thing I need is my mother breathing down my neck about nearly getting arrested," Vivica retorts sourly. "But I asked him and he said no! In front of everyone!" "In front of everyone?" a different voice inquires curiously. I lean in a little closer to hear better. Now I'm kind of interested... "Did I not just say that, Tracy?" Vivica snaps in her familiar high-pitched tone. "He said no and his friends laughed! Those goth freaks had the nerve to laugh at me! I assumed that popular people go to homecoming with popular people; I didn't even stop to think that he might've said no. I mean, it's an honor to be asked by me, right? I was so embarrassed so I just called for my ride. He showed right when the cops did." "Maybe, he only said no because he had a few too many drinks," the same girl as before suggests hopefully. "I messaged him this morning before practice and he didn't respond. He read my message. He still hasn't replied," Vivica sighs. "How'd you get his number?" the girl Vivica called Chelsea inquires. "One of his friends gave it to me," Vivica confesses. "She gave it to me. And I know it's the right number because she showed me the contact, and it was actually him. I don't know how I'm going to face him on Monday." My aunt's footsteps sounds up the steps and I immediately retract from the door. Though I didn't know who or what they were talking about, I couldn't help but grow intrigued. Who had the nerve to turn down Vivica? Don't they know how rude she is? Aunt Genevieve appears carrying a large pizza box and she motions for me to open the door, so I do. "Hey girls, this is my niece, Olivia," my aunt introduces as she places the pizza box on the dresser not too far from the door. The girls are smiling, despite the fact that we've just interrupted an in-depth conversation. "Be nice to her. She's new in town." And with that simple statement, she closes the door, leaving me to stand there like an idiot. Like I predicted, Vivica's room is pink and purple. All of the girls are on the white carpet, and one of them motions for me to grab the food and sit down. She's brunette and is the only dark haired one of the three. She's a lot shorter than them, too. I can tell because even with her perfect posture, she can't sit up taller than the slouched girls. "I'm Tracy," the brunette introduces as I slowly and cautiously sat down, trying not to drop the large box of pizza. "Chelsea," the blonde announces. I smile nervously at both of them, noticing that they're both wearing cheerleading uniforms, much like what Vivica was wearing when she first walked into the house. She changed, though, into a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. "Olivia," I introduce with a nod. I guess they don't seem that bad. They're sort of amicable, as far as I can tell. "We know," they respond in unison. Vivica keeps her hands on her phone and texts away. "We were just playing truth or dare, weren't we girls?" Vivica ask with a smirk. She slowly tucks her phone away. I want to sigh as the words leave her mouth. "I thought it was dare or dare," says Tracy with a grin. I stare at the carpet, urging to just get up and leave. Amicable, yeah right. "Oh yeah," Chelsea nods her head. "It's your turn, Olivia." "But—," I don't want to play, especially not with people that I barely know, and already don't like. They lied straight to my face. "You have to go. We all went," Tracy adds sharply. Vivica stares at me with narrowed eyes, as if scrutinizing me. I can tell that they're judging me based off of whether or not I'll agree to take my turn. Refusing to come off as wimpy, I nod. "Okay," I state. "Maddox Finnegan," Vivica smirks broadly. The other two girls' eyes go wide. I simply quirk an eyebrow. What the heck is a Maddox Finnegan? Is that who they were talking about only moments ago? "That's a good one!" Chelsea coos. "Okay, so on Monday, you have to ask out Maddox Finnegan." "To homecoming!" Tracy adds with a mischievous grin. "Yeah!" Chelsea nods excitedly. "W-who's that?" I ask as I look between the three girls with a lost and embarrassed expression plastered on my face. It better not be the guy who rejected Vivica. If he rejected Vivica, he'd surely reject me. Vivica scoffs and the other girls simply grin knowingly. They refuse to say anything else and I can only sit there and watch as they snicker and laugh at my expense. This is going to be a great year. Chapter 1: The Mighty Fall Embarrassing. That's the one word I'm going to use to describe my first day at my new school, Gregory H. Peters Preparatory High School. Everyone keeps staring at me like I'm an alien. I'm betting that they don't get new kids very often. I stick out like a sore thumb. And the fact that I have no choice but to trail behind Vivica and her friends doesn't help whatsoever. So far, I've made no friends. I miss my old school. I didn't think I'd miss my old school, to be honest. I had a few friends there, most of whom I still talk to via text message and social media. I received a few "I miss you already" tweets this past weekend but I didn't bother to respond because that's just who I am, I guess. Distant is what my friends called me. Wild is what my parents called me, which is the entire reason why I'm here, in Harrington. Parties, parties, parties. That's all I did according to my parents. In actuality, I went to school, ate, slept, occasionally partied, watched television, and read. I also hung out with my younger brother, Charlie, pretty often. Speaking of Charlie, I miss him a lot, probably more than I miss my parents. I was out of 'control and needed a change of scenery'. I think my father was just embarrassed of having to break up parties that I threw, or was attending. He said that he made the decision to send me to Aunt Genevieve's as a father, not as a cop. But for some reason, I don't think that's the case. By the time lunch comes around, I'm unsure of where I'm going to sit. I don't want to be around Vivica and her toxic friends but I have nowhere else to go, really. My eyes scan the cafeteria once, twice, and three times before I notice Chelsea waving at me in the left, back corner of the large room. Should I just ignore her and pretend I didn't see her? But then where would I go? Hesitantly, I make my way over there, drawing eyes as I do. I let out a sigh. I wish I had spoken to someone, anyone, just so I wouldn't have to sit at my cousin's table. Today, I learned that she's popular, very popular. I just assumed that she was just a snob, but no, she's a very popular snob. So popular that she manages to split crowds just by getting in a room. If that didn't make me uncomfortable, the way she's whispering at the table does. I stop in my tracks, uncertain of whether or not I should actually go to the table. I can lie and say that I have to change my schedule, which is actually fine. I only have one class with Vivica and it's my first period class, which I can handle it. On Friday, when I was forced to hang out with Chelsea and Tracy, they demanded I give them my schedule. I have one class with Tracy and two with Chelsea, but I realized that she usually skips those classes. She said so in the car ride this morning, which I was also forced into taking. As I stand a few feet from the table, I decide that I'll just leave. I hastily turn around and slam into someone. The loud cafeteria falls silent as the sound of two people colliding and falling to the ground wafts through the air. I hear a deep voice swear and I feel my face immediately warm up. I waste no time in formulating my apologies. I'm such an idiot. I was just standing in the middle of the cafeteria staring at the table like a doofus. I stand up and look down at the guy that I bumped into. The ketchup that I retrieved for my fries is now a stain on his black uniform shirt. I continue to apologize as I look around for napkins; no one offers any. Instead, they all stare at us. By the tense aura of the room, I can tell that whoever I just bumped into isn't someone to be messed with. I'm guessing the people around us are expecting him to lash out at me by the way they stare at him, waiting for a reaction. "I'm sorry," I apologize again when I can't offer him any napkins. My lunch lay abandoned on the floor, as does his unopened soda bottle. I immediately pick it up and hand it to him. He stares at my outstretched palm before grabbing the soda. His green eyes stare at me as I try to explain the situation. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to bump into you. I was just going to go change my schedule. I didn't mean to embarrass you. If it's any comfort, I'm pretty embarrassed, too," I continue to rant as my cheeks become more and more red. When you're the only one talking, it gets pretty awkward. Especially when you have over two hundred listening ears. My words are practically echoing off the walls. I may not know this guy, but I know enough to say that he's intimidating. His broad shoulders basically overshadow my entire existence. His tapering eyes and messy hair are the only things I cam focus on. My stomach is clenched and knotted as I stare up at his tall figure. I wouldn't be surprised if he stepped on me. In fact, I kind of wish he would. He watches me with furrowed eyebrows. His eyes fall to his shirt and his jaw clenches slightly. "Watch where you're going," he hisses. It's barely audible but the words rattle around my head, bouncing from wall to wall. He's capable of making the four words sound like a threat. Without another word, he turns on his heel and exits the cafeteria. The breath I was holding is immediately released and I feel my stomach untie rapidly. I slowly made my way towards the lunch table I was avoiding once the janitors shoo me away from the dropped lunch. I let out a slow. shaky breath as I sit down. The stress of that situation has wrecked my nerves. "You know who that was?" Chelsea asks with a smirk. "Maddox Finnegan- the guy you're going to be asking to homecoming," Tracy grins proudly. Can this day get any worse? - + Because I know his name and his face, Maddox Finnegan has popped up in two of my last few classes. During roll call, his name is called and he answers with a raise of his hand. I feel my stomach twisted into yet another knot when the last period bell rings and I have to leave the safety of the classroom to wait at Vivica's car. "You have to ask him now," Vivica informs me once I reach her vehicle. His car is parked directly beside Vivica's and he's leaning against it, as if waiting for someone. Chelsea and Tracy look at me expectantly. "Can't I wait until he forgets about how I bumped into him today?" I ask in a quiet voice as I rub my inner elbow nervously. "You either ask him now or you don't get a ride home," Vivica explains louder than I would've liked. Had I made a friend with a car, this wouldn't have been a problem. The drive here was about twenty five minutes, so walking would probably be triple the time. And since I don't know the way, it'd probably take me hours to find my way back to Aunt Genevieve's. I stare at them in annoyance. I'd say something but they'd think I was refusing to do it. And I wouldn't get a ride either way. I sigh. "He's going to say no and embarrass me...again," I concur as I glance over at him. "You won't know until you try," Chelsea grins encouragingly. I could tell that that is what they wanted: my embarrassment. I scoff and look at the car beside ours. He's leaning on the driver's side door, talking to a group of people excitedly. A guy says something to him and he laughs, which is something I didn't think he was capable of doing. At least he's in a better mood. I glance at my cousin, who looks unrelenting. "Can't I wait until the crowd disperses?" "You have five minutes," she announces as she glances at her phone. Luckily for me, the group slowly thins out and instead of it being five people, it's only two: Maddox and a guy with blonde hair. I slowly walk around his car and approach him nervously. My palms begin to sweat so I rub them against my skirt. His friend spots me first and nudges Maddox in the side. He glances up when his friend elbows him and turns his gaze on me. He takes on a threatening stance as if I'm going to throw all the condiments in the world at him. His shirt is changed into a white button up, another uniform option. I wonder what he did with the black one that I wrecked. His friend mutters something to him before walking away and I let out a sigh of relief. The less people who see my embarrassment, the better. "Hey, I just wanted to apologize about earlier," I nod awkwardly as I stare at the floor. I feel his eyes on me and I nervously brush my hair from my face. I wait for a response but come up short so I look up, notice that he's staring at me, and immediately look down again. "I also have a question." I glance up at him and find him scrutinizing me. I look the other way and try to count the amount of seconds until my rejection. "You know what homecoming is, right?" He didn't respond so I sigh. "This is like talking to a brick wall," I mutter as I kick at the gravel beneath my feet. "Anyway, I was wondering if you'd like to go to homecoming with me," I inquire as I glance behind him. I watch as my cousin and her two friends hold their hands over their mouths as they snicker and laugh. He peeks over his shoulder before looking back at me. My face is bright red and I can feel my palms growing sweatier and sweatier with each shaky breath I take. I really shouldn't stress it this much. I know he's going to say no. I don't want him to say yes. "Okay," he says in his semi-familiar deep voice. "Well, I tried," I mutter before I suddenly go rigid. "Wait, what did you say?" "I said okay," he repeats as if annoyed. "Okay as in...?" I ask as I quirk my eyebrows upward in slight shock. "Okay as in I'll go with you," he responds. I peek over his shoulder and see Vivica's eyes widen as Chelsea and Tracy turn to look at her. I simply nod a few times before walking around the car and back to Vivica, who looks angry. "Did he say yes?" she inquires even though she already knows the answer. I slowly nod, still shocked myself that he agreed. Her eyes narrow at the ground as her mouth purse together. "Uh, we can't give you a ride home. We have cheer-leading practice at a nearby school," Chelsea states and I stare at her, slightly stunned. Like clowns, they all pile into the car and speed out of the lot. I swear under my breath as I take out my phone and dial my aunt's number. There's no response so I groan. I have no money for a cab, and even if I did, I don't even know the address. It's difficult to remember. My old one was simple: 12 Taverness Drive. This one has a list of numbers and I'm not sure if it's a lane or a drive or what. Rubbing my eyes, I sigh and prepare to go into the office to ask where my aunt even lives. "They left you?" a low voice from behind me asks. I turn around and nod, feeling embarrassed. "Yeah, they did," I mutter. He looks hesitant as he bites his mouth. "Do you need a ride?" he asks, appearing unsure as to whether or not he even feels up to giving me a ride. I'm surprised at the fact that he asked me so I slowly nod. "Yeah." "Come on," he grunts as he kicks off his car and opens the door for himself. I shuffle over to the side and tug open the door, in fear that he'll leave me if I tell him that I have to run inside for a minute to get my new homes' address. As he starts the car, I grow curious. "Aren't you waiting for someone?" I wonder as I look back at the large building we were just released from. "Nope," he concludes as he backs out of the parking space and drives out of the lot. "We have to stop and get gas." "Okay," I nod at him. As we reach the gas station, he gets out of the car. Before he closes the door, he leans forward and looks at me. "Don't touch anything." "No promises," I murmur as I look around at the clean interior. He harshly stares at me and I roll my eyes. "I'm joking!" Maybe I shouldn't do that with him. When he gets back into the car after filling up the tank, he turns to look at me. "What's your address?" he asks as he prepares to leave the lot. "I don't know," I answer after a moment of trying to pull the location from thin air. He stares at me and blinks a few times. I look back at him and awkwardly meet his eyes. He has very pretty eyes. The thought causes my face to burn so I avert my gaze and peer out the window. Hopefully he sums it up to me being embarrassed at his staring. He probably thinks I like him. I mean, I'd understand if he does. I asked him to homecoming and I barely know him. And whenever I look at him, I blush like an idiot. "What do you mean you don't know?" he asks with slightly narrowed eyes as he drags me back to reality. "I just came to live with my aunt on Friday," I clarify with a meek shrug. "I didn't have time to memorize the address." "Do you even know the street name?" he questions in bewilderment. "No. I just know that it is twenty five minutes from school...and the house is blue...and the number of the house has a five in it," I inform him as I purse my mouth in thought. He stares at me before letting out an exasperated sigh. I try to think of something he may know. "Do you know where Vivica lives?" "No, why would I?" he retorts with a slight scowl. I have a feeling that he doesn't like Vivica very much. "Don't get an attitude with me! This is a particularly small town; I just assumed that people know people!" I respond as he parks the car outside of the gas station. "I think I might be able to retrace the drive from the school." He sighs yet again and makes his way back to the school. I can tell he's thinking that I'm more trouble than I'm worth. I can't help but think that, too. - + Thirty minutes later and we're still driving around. "Left?" he wonders as he stops at another similar looking street. "Yeah," I respond and he turns. "Wait, no! I meant right!" He groans noisily and glares at me. I notice how his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. "I'm wasting gas on you," he repeats once again. "I'll pay for it," I tell him for the third time. I stare at my cell phone and see a response from my aunt. It's the address. I quickly read it out to him and he slowly turns to look at me. "We're a half hour away from there. You took us in the opposite direction of your house," he snaps with an irritated look on his face. "I've been here for, like, three days, okay? I don't have the entire town memorized," I retort defensively. He glares at me and I sigh quietly. "How much do you need for the gas?" He doesn't respond and we sit in silence for a good block of time. As we get closer to the house, I turn to look at him. "You know, we don't have to go to homecoming together. I-I, uh, I was dared to go. I didn't expect you to say yes, and the girls didn't either. You probably have other stuff to do." He remains silent. If every moment spent with him will be this tense, then I don't want to spend four straight hours with him. I wait for a response but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he keeps his eyes narrowed as he reads street signs. A few moments later, he pulls onto a recognizable street and slows down. "Which house?" he questions me. I nod to the blue one at the corner, which is covered in wind chimes that are twinkling here and there. He pulls up to a stop in front of it. The white porch swing is empty, as is the driveway. Hopefully, my aunt's car is parked in the back. I don't like being home alone, especially in a house that isn't mine. "I'll give you the gas money tomorrow. I'm not completely unpacked and my piggy bank is still in a box somewhere. Will ten dollars cover it?" I wonder as I look to him curiously. Again, he withholds his words so I awkwardly unbuckle my seatbelt. "Well, thanks," I mutter as I close the car door. "Tell Vivian to lose my number," Maddox calls once I reach the sidewalk. I turn to him and nod. Vivica, I want to correct him but decide against it. As I continue up the steps to the house, he yells out to me again. "What?" I respond as I turn around with a confused look on my face. He couldn't have said all this when I was still in the car within hearing range? "Wear red," he repeats. I furrow my eyebrows as he drives off down the street. Homecoming, I remember. So he actually wants to go. Chapter 2: Take My Money I spend an hour looking through my boxes to try and find my green piggy bank. I come upon it and find that it's barely full. I wish my mother would've told me that she and my father would decide to send me off to my aunts so I could've saved up from my old job. Instead, the week before I left, I spent almost two hundred dollars on worthless items like party food and plastic bowls. I could've saved that until I managed to get a job here. I barely have fifty bucks to my name, and I already owe someone ten dollars. I sigh, take out a ten, and put it on my bedside table as I climb into bed. I wake up the next morning with a jolt. My aunt pushes open my door and tosses a bag onto my bed. "Morning, sunshine!" she greets me in her slightly nasally voice. I look at the bag, which landed on my legs, and groan. I sit up, open the sack, and allow my shoulders to slump. School uniforms. I guess my parents bought these for me. Yesterday, I used one of Vivica's old ones from her freshman year. It was one of the few that wasn't hemmed and stitched so the skirt rose a few inches, and the shirt actually still had buttons. After I shower and get ready, I meet my aunt and cousin downstairs. My aunt's making breakfast, which smells delicious. With half lidded eyes and damp hair, I sit down at the table. My cousin picks at a piece of toast, looking primped and preened. She has an annoyed look on her face, which appeared the moment I plopped down in the seat beside her. "Why'd you need to know the address yesterday?" my aunt wonders when her eyes settle on me. "I needed a ride home but I didn't know where I lived," I confess as I shove a piece of bacon into my mouth. "You needed a ride?" my aunt repeats as she looks between the two of us at the table. Yawning and rubbing my eyes, I blink a few times before nodding. "Why didn't Vivica give you a ride?" Aunt Genevieve questions more to her daughter than me. "She had cheer-leading practice at a different school," I admit flatly, not bothering to hide my annoyance. "We're going to talk later," my aunt glares at my cousin. "How'd you get home?" "I got a ride from Maddox," I explain, getting cut off in the middle of my sentence by a yawn, which causes my eyes to close slightly. Speaking of Maddox, I pat my pocket to make sure I have the money for gas. Vivica's eyes widen as a look of anger overtakes her face. Why's she so angry? She's the one that left me stranded in the school parking lot without a ride. "You're going to give her a ride to and from school from now on," my aunt demands. I don't bother speaking. Instead, I just eat a forkful of eggs and remain silent. When Vivica announces that we're leaving, I grab a napkin and load it up with the rest of my bacon. I make a move to wash my dish but my aunt stops me and smiles, nodding towards the door. I force a smile back and grab my bag from the floor, shoveling bacon into my mouth as I go. The car ride is tense and everything Vivica does seems angry. She punches the radio buttons until a song she approves of comes on; she brakes rather hard; she turns fiercely; and she doesn't warn me whenever she's taking a sharp turn. I'm guessing that's how she takes out her anger: by beating up the passenger. After arriving at school, I make a beeline for the bathroom. As I'm walking towards the toilets., which I found yesterday after a ten minute search, I spot a familiar guy standing at a locker. He carelessly shoves books into his bag. I slowly approached him, unsure if it was a good time. "Maddox," I state as I dip my hand into my pocket. He turns around with that natural sour look on his face- the narrowed eyes and the set frown. "What?" His pretty green eyes are conical and his mouth is set in a line. I feel my face heat up when I realize that I was just staring into his eyes for a good minute. "I-I have the money," I concur with him as I hold out the cash. "Is that bacon?" he asks with furrowed brows. His eyes are locked on the napkin in my other hand. "Yeah, want some?" I offer as I hold it out as well. He shakes his head and I shrug, retracting my bacon-filled hand. "And I don't want the money," he tells me bluntly as he slams his locker. "But I searched through my boxes for an hour for this," I grumble unhappily. I know what you're thinking- take the money and walk away. If he doesn't want it, be grateful. You're ten dollars richer (or maybe just not ten dollars short). But I can't help but feel like I owe him. He gave me a ride home even though I couldn't even provide him with an address until forty five minutes into town exploring. "That's not my problem," he informs me. Without a second glance at me, he walks away with his hands tucked in his pockets. I glare at his back, fold up the money, and shove it into the slits of his locker. I, Olivia Ortega, refuse to owe anyone anything. I walk towards the bathroom and get in, listening as the bell rings, signifying that the day has just begun. - + It takes me a minute to realize that I have five of eight classes with Maddox. And it wasn't until American Literature, which is directly after lunch, that he comes up to me and places the money on my desk angrily. I shove it back towards him, lifting it when he doesn't accept it. "Take it," I demand. "No," he states as he stands on the other side of my table, refusing to take the money. I keep my hand extended towards him. "Take it," I repeat as I examine his face; his defined jaw is clenched and his long eyelashes create shadows on his cheeks in the bright lighting of the classroom. The green of his eyes is flashing as he blinks impatiently, trying to shrug off my attempts to give him the money. His pale, pink mouth is set in a line as he represses the urge to, most likely, swear at me and call me names. I pushed the money towards him again, cutting off his path to the back of the class. "Maddox, have a seat," Mr. Harvey announces with a fleck of impatience in his tone. Maddox looks around and grits his teeth when he notices that the seat beside me is the only available chair. Everyone's eyes are on us as they wait to see what he'll do. He grumpily drops in the only open seat, giving me a glare when he realizes that this is the third time I've embarrassed him in a two day span. He shoves my hand away and I tuck the money into my pocket with a plan of slipping it into his bag once the bell rings. Maddox ignores me the entire class period. Even when I attempted to ask him for help on a question, he disregards me. The teacher didn't explain it to me well enough and I didn't want to ask again, so I just shut up and pretended I knew what I was doing. In my old school, we didn't get this far into this lesson. In fact, we barely got into the lesson before this one. Was my old school behind or is this school ahead? Maddox also ignores me when I ask him what time class ends. And I know he heard me. I mean, he made eye contact with me for a few seconds before he looked away. And the moment the bell rang, he jumped from his seat and dove out of the classroom, not bothering to retrieve the homework on the way out. - + In my Pre-Calculus class, which I have absolutely no friends in, I'm surprised when two girls take the seats beside me. I just assume that there's a shortage of seats until they introduce themselves to me. I recognize them; they'e two of the people who followed Maddox out of the cafeteria when I attacked him with my lunch. "I'm Cassidy," the redhead introduces herself. She has several piercings on her ears, mouth piercing, and an eyebrow piercing. I smile at her and nod, still confused as to why she's talking to me. "I'm Winona," the dark skinned one greets me. She doesn't have any piercings but her makeup is dark and smokey, like something I've seen in a tutor. I smile at her as well, nodding my head again. "You must be Olivia." My eyes flicker from Cassidy to Winona in slight confusion. "Uh, yeah, how'd you know?" I ask. "Maddox," they reply in unison. "We're his friends." "Oh," I mutter. "Well, yeah, I'm Olivia." The girls start a conversation with me and I politely engage, though still confused as to why Maddox told them about me. I don't bother to ask. - + "You're going to homecoming with a boy?" my aunt gasps the second I get in the house with my bag over my shoulder. I nod slowly. "Yeah, how'd you know?" I wonder as I slow to a stop in front of her. "Viv was talking about it on the phone when she came in," my aunt smiles. "Do you have a dress?" I shake my head. "No," I answer in short. I don't even have money for one, if we're being honest. I really didn't think this through. "Well, homecoming's this Friday! We need to go get you a dress," my aunt explains happily. "Now?" I mutter when I see her grabbing her car keys. "Yeah, or they'll all be sold out, if they aren't already!" she smiles at me. I can tell how excited she is to finally have a teenage girl to spend time with. "Let me just run upstairs and get my money," I conclude when I realize that I may not be able to pay Maddox back after all. "No need, I'll pay for it," she concurs with a dismissive hand wave. I return the grin this time. "Thanks, Aunt Gen." "No problem," she announces as she leads the way outside. I leave my bag on the living room floor as I shut the door behind us. As we drive to the mall, I think about what Maddox said. Should I wear red? Or should I wear what I want to wear? After much contemplation, I decide that I'll wear what I want to wear, unless I find a cute, red dress. Then, I guess I'll get that. Upon our arrival, I notice a few things. There are a lot of teenagers and a lot of stores. This mall's definitely larger than the one from my old town, almost twice the size. "Let's look around," my aunt suggests as she looks at the different stores. I follow behind her and peer around at the variety of shops that dot the aisle. "They have dresses." We cut across the large hall and get in the aforementioned store, where we're hit with a blast of heat. I immediately notice a red dress on a rack so I approach it and examine it. "So you want a red dress?" "What?" I wonder as I tear my eyes from the dress. "Your eyes darted to that red dress faster than my eyes dart to purses," she comments with a small chuckle. I look down, feeling slightly embarrassed. At least she doesn't know my reasoning for wanting red. "It's cute, don't you think?" I ask her as I wave the garment around. "Yeah, do they have your size?" she wonders. I survey the rack more and frown, giving a slow shake of my head. "We'll keep looking, then." There isn't much to look at in that store so we keep it moving. Two stores later, we finally find a dress that's cute and has my size. After purchasing it (I thanked my aunt repeatedly for doing so), we exit the store. "Do you have any shoes?" my aunt wonders as her eyes fall on yet another girly store. I stare at the floor and shake my head again. "Nope." "No problem, we'll get you some!" she insists with wild eyes. "Vivica hates going out with me. It's good to have someone around that I can shop with." "Thanks, Aunt Gen," I say for what seems to be the fifth time today. "Anytime," my aunt responds. "When was the last time you talked to your mom?" "Not too long ago, three days I think," I estimate. To be honest, it wasn't much of a talk. She just called to make sure I knew the rules, which she shouted at me repeatedly on the way here. 'Don't do anything disrespectful. Follow all of your aunts' rules. If she has a curfew different than ours, follow it without complaint. Don't get into trouble with the police. No parties, at all. Don't hit Vivica. I mean it, Liv; don't hit her...' My mom's voice drones on in my head. "She told you the rules again, right?" my aunt grins at me. I chuckle and nod. "Yeah, she did," I admit. "Don't worry about it. You're doing just fine here." I give my aunt a half smile. Maybe this year won't be so bad. At least my aunt won't be. Chapter 3: The Happier Brother I'm sitting in last period with a tapping foot. I look at the clock and sigh. When does the bell ring again? I just want to get out of school, but I don't exactly want to go back to my aunt's house. Vivica's probably going to have Chelsea and Tracy over so they can get ready together. Then, at eight o'clock, we'll just come back to school for homecoming. I'm not exactly excited for it. I barely know Maddox, and he doesn't seem very fond of me. However, he hasn't cancelled on me and I have a feeling he would've by now if he felt like he wasn't going to show up. Unless he wanted to wait until the last minute so I'd feel like absolute and utter crap. Then again, if he said he didn't want to go, I wouldn't be that sad. I guess I just don't want to spend four hours with him, especially because I'm depending on Vivica for a ride home, and if she sees that I'm having a bad time, she'll refuse to take me home until the school staff kick us out at eleven o'clock. She's still mad at me for many things, most of which I'm unsure about. I stopped caring after Wednesday. As long as she brings me to school and back, I'm fine. Even if Maddox ditches me, I still have to go. My aunt bought me a dress and shoes and as far as she's concerned, I really like this boy. I don't know how she came to that conclusion seeing as I've been here for barely a week but I don't ask questions. Simply put, it'd be embarrassing if he cancels on me. It's worse because I won't know until I get to homecoming. He could've already decided he's not going to go without telling me and just stand me up. Now that I think about it, I bet he won't show up. We haven't talked since Tuesday, and he didn't seem very happy with me then, probably because I led him on an unintentional wild goose chase to my house on Monday. Or maybe it was the fact that I bumped into him. Once the bell rings, I immediately begin packing up my stuff. Everyone else does the same. Mrs. Reanna is the type of teacher to yell at you if you make a move to put something back in your bag before the bell rings, even if it's an eraser. I jolt in surprise when a voice speaks in the quiet classroom. "Are we still on for tonight?" Maddox wonders in a strained voice. I turn around as I swing my bag over my shoulder. Cassidy and Winona stand behind him with large grins directed at me. "Yeah," I confirm as I give both girls a confused look. He groans and Winona elbows him in the side. Through gritted teeth, he questions: "Do you need a ride?" I think about it. Would I rather sit through a tense, awkward ride with Maddox or a loud, obnoxious ride with my cousin and her friends, where they'd make fun of me and I'd have to refrain from ripping the door off its hinges and slapping them all across their faces with it? It isn't much of a competition, to be honest. "Yeah," I agree since he's offering. "What's the address again?" he questions and I have a feeling Cassidy's pinching his side by the way he's cringing away from her. "I'll write it down," I tell him as I reach for my bag. "Or she'll just text it to you," Winona suggests quietly. "Or you can text it to me," he blurts and I feel myself cringing for him. The two girls are using him like a puppet, poking and pinching him to get him to speak. "I don't have your number," I state the obvious. He digs into his pocket and retrieves his phone. I guess Winona pinched him a little too hard because he tosses it at me as he lets out a girlish squeal. I shuffle to catch it, almost dropping it several times. He has a terrified look on his face as he watches me fight gravity to grab the phone. I notice that his phone doesn't have a lock on it. Huh, unusual. "Don't touch anything," he tells me in his normal, threatening voice. I glance at him and watch as his back arches in reaction to Cassidy pinching him. "Or touch whatever you want." His voice raises with each word he says. I take my time adding a contact, glancing up at him judgmentally every so often to give off the idea that I'm reading his messages. At one point, I did look up at him with genuine judgment when I saw that he had several different female contacts; he had four Emma's and five Jessica's, if that gives you an idea of the lengthy list he had. When I finish, I hand him back his phone and he snatches it, which earns a pinch from Winona. "I'll just text you when I'm going to leave my house. Reply with the address then," he informs me me. Winona and Cassidy drop their hands and he sighs in relief, hunching over. "I'll see you later," I grunt as he leaves the classroom. He doesn't bother to acknowledge my farewell as he shuffles out. Cassidy, Winona, and I exit the classroom and begin walking in the same direction. "What was that about?" "He didn't want to talk to you about your plans," Winona explains with a shrug. "So we had to use some force to get it out of him." "Oh," I mutter in a slightly disappointed manner. If he didn't want to go with me, why didn't he just cancel? I'd rather go alone than go with someone who'll just constantly complain about my presence, which is something I think Maddox would do. When I reach my cousins car, I find her waiting impatiently. She mumbles something about not waiting on me again as I buckle my seatbelt and I huff noisily in response. Halfway home, I turn to look at her. "I don't need a ride to homecoming." "Why? Did he cancel on you?" she smirks in a somewhat satisfied manner. I roll my eyes at her. "No, he's bringing me." She doesn't bother to respond and only continues driving in her angry, dangerous manner. - + I get ready much quicker than the other girls, who arrive at the house at four thirty. I started getting ready at six and was completely prepared at 6:30. Given, I showered at 3:30 and curled my hair at four o'clock, but I wasn't in my dress. It wasn't until six that I got into my outfit, put on perfume, and then packed a small purse. I didn't put on makeup, mainly because I never learned how to. I only have an older brother and a younger brother, and my mother never wore makeup. There was no one to teach me. And I don't want to try and end up looking silly because I followed a professional YouTuber's tutorial. I planned on watching a movie until 7:30 or so, which is when I thought Maddox would come and get me, but he came a lot earlier than I expected. At 6:40, I get a text from him telling me that he's leaving his house so I respond with the address and put on a few finishing touches. I grab my jacket, put it on, and walk downstairs with my purse over my shoulder. "You look so pretty!" Aunt Gen announces when I come into her view. I smile at her, wondering if she only believes that because she helped picked it out. "Thank you," I comment awkwardly. "Red is your color," she winks at me. I hear a car honking outside and assume it's Maddox. I starts towards the door and she quirks a brow. "That for you?" she wonders as she glances out the front window. "Yeah, I've got to go," I tell her. I know Maddox will get frustrated and drive off if I'm not outside in a minute or so. "You're to be home by twelve!" she calls to me as I approach the front door. My eyes widen as the number leaves her mouth. My mother and father would've given me until nine on a good day. Of course, I was never home by nine, but I usually gave them the satisfaction of letting them set a time without me arguing in response. I nod at my aunt before exiting the house. As I walk towards Maddox's car, I'm surprised to find him in an actual tuxedo. I don't know what I was expecting him to wear, but it wasn't anything remotely formal. It was probably all black and leather because he seems to be fond of that. From what I've seen so far, his uniform is always accessorized with the two. When I get into the car and admire his outfit, he glares at me. "Don't say anything." "A tuxedo?" I ask with a small smirk on my face. I can't help but to tease. He glowers at me before he pulls off down the road. "Do you live far from here?" "I'm not telling you where I live," he scoffs as if the idea of saying his address is preposterous. "I probably won't know where it is, anyway. I was just assuming because it took you barely ten minutes to get here," I mutter as I stare out the window. We're silent as I continue to think. We never really introduced each other. I know his name thanks to Vivica and he knows my name... "Wait, do you even know my name?" He looks at me with narrowed brows. "Yes, I'm not brainless." "Oh, really, what is it then?" I inquire. He has to know, right? I mean, his friends knew. "Olive," he announces confidently. "It's Olivia," I correct him. At least he was close... "I know. But Olive is better. It's a food," he mutters as he takes a left turn. Unlike Vivica, he turns normally, not with too much force or the goal of giving me a minor concussion. "I don't like that nickname," I reply in hopes that he'll revert to using my real, birth name. "It's not a nickname," he concurs with a slight head shake. "You have to like the person to give them a nickname." We fall into silence again as he continues to drive towards the school. "Why'd you say yes?" I wonder aloud. "You talk so much," he sighs. "Answer the question and I won't talk again until we get to school," I propose as I pull at the end of my dress to yank it down. I forgot how uncomfortable these things are. Instead of responding, he reaches for the radio. When I go to speak over it, he looks straight at, turns up the music, and rudely silences me. I dont bother to speak to him again.	LEARN_MORE	https://moonstories.readlife.mobi/1ciqjjpmt00.html	Top Romance Novels	https://www.facebook.com/61573021893545/	3	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more		moonstories.readlife.mobi	IMAGE		https://moonstories.readlife.mobi/1ciqjjpmt00.html	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481308635_1643453819868841_1141699311149972924_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=lko5tAtpLqsQ7kNvgHfR5RU&_nc_oc=Adh1iiLNClccf7vvA-NM7ZyXhUzjPlBnHtkaoIBOcXCIMjDXQPCiGHrOrL7-TPQ9ZaPwhlsNLYS-JTgSWRh7Wca8&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AWoS5QOx-QwgPLtIMHVdqyb&oh=00_AYDitJ5vVyAS9lI2hOyQ0rTi59OAeLtVLpbWE5qQS925MA&oe=67CBA453	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Top Romance Novels	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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