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2,748,971	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 09:54	active	2763	Read next chapter	On her wedding day, her stepsister set her up, framing her with accusations of promiscuity, academic fraud, and attempted murder. She was personally brought to court by her fiancé and imprisoned for three years, enduring inhuman torment! ===== On the day Khloe Evans was put on trial by her fiance, it was raining heavily. "Khloe Evans, you are suspected of bribing competition judges, academic fraud, and attempted homicide. Do you plead guilty or not?" Inside the silent and solemn courtroom, the judge's gavel echoed, signaling the start of a tense moment. Khloe's bldshot eyes were filled with anger and desperation, staring at Eric Watson, her fiance. She couldn't help but sneer. They had spent four years from falling in love to getting married; she had always believed that he loved her deeply and that their married life would be blissful. But on their wedding day, he personally put her on trial because of her stepsister's words. The Watson family was one of the wealthiest and most influential families in the country. No one would dare to offend them for a nobody like her. Khloe said word by word, "I have nothing to say." All along, she thought Eric was the love of her life. But it turned out he had been having an aair with her stepsister, Sloane Evans. What was more, he had stolen her academic achievements. And now, he falsely accused her of being a mrderer. He was ruthless. What else could she say? The judge banged his gavel again and gave his verdict. "The court hereby sentences the defendant, Khloe Evans, to eight years in prison and a fine of three hundred thousand dollars." The trial concluded, and the prison guards escorted Khloe. As she walked out of the courtroom, Khloe turned and looked back at Eric, sitting in the plaintiff's seat, her eyes burning with deep hatred and fury. ...... Three years had passed. "Khloe Evans, someone has bailed you out. You're free to go." Upon hearing that, Khloe raised her head, her pale face filled with shock. After suffering from endless torture for three years, she had thought that she was bound to stay there for the full sentence. She didn't expect that she would be released one day. An hour after she was released from prison, Khloe was taken to a hospital. She entered a ward, and her heart clenched when she saw her mother through the ICU door, lying motionless in the hospital bed. With a pale face and various apparatus connected to her body, she looked lifeless. "Mom..." Khloe got all worked up, her voice trembling with emotion. She wanted to open the door and go in. "Stop it! This ward is specially secured. No one is allowed to enter without my permission." A female voice suddenly rang out behind her. Khloe turned around and was surprised to see the person who spoke. "Sloane? My mom severed ties with the Evans family long ago. Why are you still doing this to her?" As she spoke, she glared at Sloane with eyes full of hatred. Sloane looked at Khloe, a flicker of jealousy and disdain flashing across her eyes. Then, she sneered, "Khloe, looks like you are mistaken. I'm saving her. Without me, your mother would have died long ago. Perhaps, by the time you come out of prison, you will only see her tomb." Khloe took a deep breath to calm herself down. "Sloane, stop being so hypocritical. You are saving my mother? Only a fool will believe that. What are you really up to? You're using her to manipulate me, right?" "Khloe, you're as clever as ever. No wonder they called you the rising star of academia. But it's a pity that you are now a convict for attempted murder. And your fate is in my hands," Sloane taunted. "So, today, all you need to do is spend a night with Karl Russell. Then, I'll arrange for your release and your mother's treatment." "Karl Russell? That old man is already in his sixties. Are you out of your mind?" Khloe's eyes widened in disbelief. "So what? Should I care? It's you who are going to sleep with him, not me. As long as you spend one night with him, our family can secure the Russell family's arms deal. It's a very lucrative business. You should feel honored that you are selling out your body to make so much money for us. But if you refuse..." Sloane pointed to the ICU. "I'll have them remove your mom's life support, and she'll die right in front of you. I'll give you five seconds to decide. Five, four, three..." "Fine! I'll go," Khloe agreed in despair. This time, she could no longer suppress the tears she had been holding back. She was left with no choice. For the sake of her mother, she had to do it. After freshening up, Khloe was put into a car. Tonight, she was destined to sleep with a sixty-something disgusting man. And she was still a vgin. Chapter 2 Henrik Watson That night, the car glided through the deserted streets, headlights cutting into the night's inky darkness. Bang! A gnshot shattered the silence, deafening and ominously close. Glass sprayed across the seats as the car window exploded, fragments glittering in the dim streetlights. All hell broke loose. Terrified creams echoed in the street as the few remaining shops hurried to lower their shutters. The driver, white-faced and trembling, veered in a panic. The car skidded, tires screeching before slamming into the curb. He slumped forward, unconscious. Beside him, Khloe blinked, disoriented from the impact. Pressing a hand to her throbbing head, she tried to make sense of what had happened. Through the cracked window, she glimpsed flickering orange flames a short distance away. "Oh, no!" She'd stumbled straight into the deadly crossfires of a gnfight. It was likely a turf war turned ugly by two warring gangs. Steadying herself, Khloe pushed open the door and crouched low, inching towards the roadside. But before she could move further, a figure emerged from the darkness. Tall and powerfully built, he was moving fast. Even though a mask obscured most of his features, she could still see his intense eyes and the proud outline of his nose. A dark stain spread across his side, seeping through his clothes--bld. He stumbled towards her, breathing heavily, and collapsed at her feet. Just then, another group of burly men burst from the shadows, each armed to the teeth. Their faces were etched with vicious determination, each bearing a ttoo on the hand. "Perfect! He's down. Now, finish him off!" The leader, bald and snarling, held up his gn and pointed it towards the fallen man. Then, his gaze fell on Khloe. She was dressed to the nines, as she was meant to be a gift for a man tonight. A tight red dress hugged her perfect figure, accentuating her curves and complimenting her porcelain skin. Her glossy hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a delicate, doll-like face with wide, innocent eyes. In a word, she looked like a vision from a dream--or a man's tptation made flesh. The bald man's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with leerous intent. He had never seen such a beautiful woman before, and he wasn't about to let an opportunity like this slide. "While you're finishing him off, I'll help myself to this beauty." He lunged, shoving Khloe back against the shattered window, pressing his weight against her. "No, please!" she pleaded, her voice trembling as she tried to pull away. "Please don't hurt me." "Why would I hurt a beauty like you?" he taunted, his fingers gripping her shoulder tightly as he leaned closer, his hot breath on her skin. His men jeered behind him, urging him on, enjoying the show. But Khloe's hand moved, almost imperceptibly, reaching into her purse. In one swift, desperate motion, her fingers closed around a pen, and she drove it up into his neck with a fierce thrust. The bald man's eyes widened in shock as bld spurted from the wound, his grip loosening. Gone was the look of a damsel in distress; her eyes, which were so full of fear just a second earlier, now glinted with a cold light. What was once a delicate, angelic beauty had transformed into a bld-stained rose, dark and dangerous. "B*ch, you're asking for it!" The henchmen froze for a split second, then fury overcame them, and they charged at Khloe with murderous intent. Her voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. "Don't move, or I'll pull the pen out! He'll bleed out on the spot!" The men abruptly stopped in their tracks. No one dared to move a muscle. At this moment, the man who'd been lying motionless suddenly sprang to life, gn in hand, and unleashed a hail of bllets on the stunned thgs. He moved with such agility that it was clear his injury had only been a ruse. Even the bald man Khloe held hostage collapsed in a bldy heap, a bullet having shattered his skull in an instant. Khloe spun her head just in time, avoiding the bld splatter. But her clothes and legs weren't so lucky; they were stained with bld, sticky and warm. "Ugh!" The sickly, metallic scent hit her, and her stomach churned. She couldn't stop herself from retching, knees buckling as she collapsed sideways. But before she hit the ground, an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her upright. The man's grip was firm, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Feisty little thing, weren't you so badass just a second ago? What happened?" Khloe recoiled, shoving him away, her face twisting in defiance. "Let go of me!" Before she could get another word out, black-clad men suddenly emerged from the shadows, their faces hard, eyes cold. Even the surrounding rooftops showed silhouettes of these men, controlling all sniper points. Each man moved with such deadly precision, and Khloe could tell at a glance that they were all experienced killers. They brandished machine guns and rocket launchers with practiced ease, as though these were everyday items. In a word, they looked like an elite strike force--battle-hardened, lethal. Unexpectedly, one by one, they all started dropping to their knees, as though bowing before a king. Thousands of them bowed in unison. "Awaiting your orders, Mr. Watson," the leader announced reverently. Khloe's breath hitched. "Are you Henrik Watson?" Chapter 3 The Kiss Henrik accepted a handkerchief from his trusted aide, Rhett Foster, wiping the bld from his hands with deliberate, almost regal precision. He then removed his mask slowly, revealing a face that could seize anyone's breath. His eyes were dark, magnetic pools, deep enough to pull anyone in. And above his perfectly-shaped lips was a prominent, sculpted nose. His chiseled features conveyed both power and beauty, almost too flawless to belong to any ordinary man. It was the kind of face that could eclipse even the brightest stars in the showbiz. But more than his appearance, it was his aura--commanding, indomitable--that sent shivers down spines. This was a man who held dominion over countless lives. Henrik smiled, a flash of danger glinting in his eyes. "So what if I am?" Khloe's eyes went as wide as saucers. Henrik Watson--that name carried the weight of legend. Henrik had once been a branch member of the Watson family before vanishing into obscurity for ten long years. When he resurfaced, he singlehandedly seized control of the nation's underworld, rendering him a king without rival. In fact, he was so powerful that even the president treaded carefully around him. Khloe's ex-fiance, Eric, was a member of the Watson family, which had ascended from obscurity to supremacy solely thanks to Henrik. By blood, Eric was Henrik's nephew. So, if her marriage to Eric pushed through, Henrik would be her husband's uncle. Khloe's stepsister, Sloane, had maneuvered her into offering herself to Karl Russell. Though Karl held sway in the city, he was nothing against Henrik's underworld might. It was like comparing a lion to a mouse. As the thought struck her, hope flickered within Khloe. If she could gain Henrik's support, she might escape her forced sacrifice, and her mother could be saved. Steadying her breath, she asked tentatively, "Since I just helped you, could I ask you a favor?" Henrik's gaze sharpened, eyes gleaming with intrigue. It was the first time a woman had faced him with such poise, especially after witnessing him kill so many people. Interest piqued, Henrik strode towards Khloe with an almost lazy confidence, each step measured and unhurried. His sculpted fingers pinched her chin, lifting it so she was looking right at him. He held her gaze as he studied her with a trace of amusement in his eyes. His voice, low and rich, sent a chill through the air. "Do you have any idea who you're talking to? Aren't you afraid I'll kill you?" A shiver raced through Khloe's heart. His presence was overwhelming, like a storm cloud closing in, suffocating in its intensity. He was dangerous--merely speaking to him was like playing with fire. But she had nowhere else to turn; Henrik was her only chance. "I have a Ph.D. in chemistry and medicine, along with patents--highly profitable ones. If you help me, I can make you money," she said, voice steady but with a glint of desperation. Henrik shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Money?" he murmured, his fingers brushing her cheek. "Do I look like I lack money?" The scent of bld clung faintly to his skin, chilling her even as he remained outwardly gentle. Khloe's guard went up instinctively, her body tensing beneath his touch. "What do you want?" she ventured cautiously. "If it's within my power, I'm willing to exchange anything." A spark flickered in Henrik's dark eyes, something enigmatic and unreadable. He let his gaze drift over her as if considering her offer. "Anything, you say?" All of a sudden, he let out a chilling laugh. "Then I want this." In one swift motion, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. And there, before all his men, he kissed her. Chapter 4 Decisive Action The kiss came unexpectedly. Khloe was caught off guard, unable to respond in time. Henrik's subordinates stood frozen, their eyes wide with disbelief. They had all worked for him for years, and never once had they seen him so close with a woman. Henrik had always been the type to keep his distance from women. In the past, women who approached him either ended up as fish food or were sent to toil in the mines at his orders. What kind of spell had this woman cast? How was it that she managed to make Henrik abandon all his usual rules, and all on their very first meeting? As the crowd remained stunned and puzzled, Khloe's thoughts swirled in chaos, making it impossible to think straight. Henrik's kiss was overwhelming, like a storm crashing down on her, leaving her breathless and dizzy. She found herself trapped in his arms, held so tightly it felt as though she were a flower caught in a violent storm. Yet she was anything but fragile. Once the shock wore off, a surge of anger rose within her. For years, she had endured humiliation, her fall from grace plunging her into the darkest depths. But giving up was never an option; she had always been plotting her revenge. It was only natural that she refused to yield. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss with equal ferocity. After all, what harm could a kiss do? And the man was both devastatingly handsome and of high standing. She would not suffer any losses. She skillfully fought back with her tgue, refusing to let him dominate her entirely. Instead of pulling back, she met his intensity head-on, taking the lead. What began as a one-sided kiss quickly transformed into a fierce exchange, each of them vying for control, pushing and pulling in a heated battle for dominance. The kiss was fierce and all-consuming, each second more passionate than the last, until they were both gasping for air. When they finally pulled away, their lips were swollen and stained with bl**d, a testament to the intensity of the moment. Henrik let go of Khloe, his hand brushing against the corner of his mouth where her teeth had left their mark. His gaze was intense, locking onto her with a depth that seemed to pierce right through her. Khloe held his stare steadily, not flinching or showing even the slightest sign of discomfort. Her fearless attitude earned her the respect of those watching. It was clear now why Henrik was drawn to her. She was bold, with a courage that couldn't be ignored. She had the audacity to bite Henrik's lips, unafraid of the consequences. Henrik continued to gaze at Khloe, a growing satisfaction building within him. The sting on his lips reminded him sharply of what had just happened. The woman standing before him, with a face as stunning as an angel's, was no delicate flower. She was a thorny rose, and anyone foolish enough to underestimate her would undoubtedly pay the price. But that was exactly what made her so captivating--it was the danger beneath the beauty that drew him in. "Mr. Watson, is everything to your liking?" Khloe asked, breaking the stillness. "Yes, let's go," Henrik replied with a smile. "Now, let's take care of your little issue." ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &9&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65284322-fb_contact-e	Heat Novel A	https://www.facebook.com/100089743291944/	609	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	IMAGE		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65284322-fb_contact-enp98_2-1210-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=673595984708315&exdata=E7C53BDECE0DE88B200EA63394DF65BDF3FD82FDE0160B90	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475586992_1259001895204976_9195948511854082061_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=IVdT484xvCMQ7kNvgGsBSFz&_nc_oc=AdhHYdR1yDUoXKj5J2cALn5RRW2GHN14TQ2lJNHFa_244Pp29C_oFnoxsZsNP2WHKolqHl_VFOiuvwhf0oZa8wda&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A5LODlAXrLvbrAiuz2YxtlI&oh=00_AYAVvtRbqRCaYpeBi5TK0YY7ylhCD1OnaYHaOcz_iM6x-A&oe=67CBB8BE	PERSON_PROFILE	Heat Novel A	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,748,578	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 09:54	active	2763	Read next chapter	To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blde. "You're the one who climbed into my bd back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi*ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his bdmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my bd, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in bd. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her chst. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red mrk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my bd too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You bch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame graning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e	Popular romance stories	https://www.facebook.com/100083149047490/	17,999	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	IMAGE		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0130-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=673595984708315&exdata=E7C53BDECE0DE88BF83F39A066FF1CE47B6F411C78F2549E	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475752863_1133737361126509_2351332609543597879_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HI3iSfwEd0gQ7kNvgFXoL6I&_nc_oc=AdgNmROfYhiFKkFc7hqXGRzxcKxHs9UHTMladnm96MkAd35AcY-v3w8KLY1-R0JdpR9q1Pccqwx24H9U6MkEddR8&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AQHrYL89fiRSyeQRH1C1q3K&oh=00_AYB_Zf4Aslnz198i9iNTA83HpyIx58xqVP981Qqe3q_zgA&oe=67CBA661	PERSON_PROFILE	Popular romance stories	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,748,974	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 09:54	active	2763	Read next chapter	To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blde. "You're the one who climbed into my bd back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi*ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his bdmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my bd, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in bd. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her chst. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red mrk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my bd too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You bch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame graning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e	Fun reading A	https://www.facebook.com/61569549552159/	23	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	VIDEO		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0204-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=1166169688155768&exdata=2B4C666170BD1F15685279B9E232E6552D107938714FE7AC	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475805667_4006025316330335_2273718408946853742_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=kENZP5IyXIEQ7kNvgEf2BjS&_nc_oc=Adhd9gF2n6WN7QuM9jQeXWEZjvqlQjxZRscP-aNIkrA0np2mBixPNTm2C5pP-9oJ0NXgBAukFTJ--pIdGqqime4J&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A5LODlAXrLvbrAiuz2YxtlI&oh=00_AYBoxC-rIQx06Qgr5lFl6N-jawCx5d8J8YlocLJjHePYBA&oe=67CBA330	PERSON_PROFILE	Fun reading A	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,749,002	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 09:54	active	2763	Read next chapter	To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blde. "You're the one who climbed into my bd back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi*ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his bdmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my bd, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in bd. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her chst. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red mrk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my bd too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You bch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame graning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e	Hello Read	https://www.facebook.com/61550873765205/	1,009	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	IMAGE		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0130-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=638434121690371&exdata=C46BD16AC307897527EED4152EB041A415B5B48AFACB8F0F	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475399492_1037930611430784_8463005202441800714_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=qn9xToIFlJIQ7kNvgGbkRY7&_nc_oc=AdguloHa1MusNGF4ghnE-tSLK7MW2aGXPPFo076h0tKu_ZmRTjLLf6AWcnIsN7Vyvfs2cPMsGkVgGyNOmCngefNH&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A35vcWWrp5UxtwPhFKlBE-U&oh=00_AYBGr0aFxTjzmutuJqOIXH6U0LnTqt3g3vIJ_8Z5plllZw&oe=67CBB944	PERSON_PROFILE	Hello Read	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,749,022	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 09:54	active	2763	Read next chapter	To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blde. "You're the one who climbed into my bd back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi*ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his bdmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my bd, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in bd. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her chst. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red mrk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my bd too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You bch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame graning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e	Fun reading A	https://www.facebook.com/61569549552159/	23	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	IMAGE		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0204-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=1166169688155768&exdata=2B4C666170BD1F15541B675FE215514C96BCF086581D00C7	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476008241_472817919232694_6345087642133829713_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=oQttglDshZ0Q7kNvgGVVND0&_nc_oc=AdhYCwWUEq6QQeUlC8SYLmnvvLJ4LortA8IgjPRJF8v427KhN6ybHP_jxK1ZfQuDpKIWI5lGbUTnpgaDrNcvJ8Wg&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ARTGCUVZo8VBL20kCAoiFCT&oh=00_AYCD4xzpU-FhwpsyOofdyHTxtTlfKK8x9Mx2G45VnffKpQ&oe=67CB9289	PERSON_PROFILE	Fun reading A	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,749,075	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 09:54	active	2763	Read next chapter	On her wedding day, her stepsister set her up, framing her with accusations of promiscuity, academic fraud, and attempted murder. She was personally brought to court by her fiancé and imprisoned for three years, enduring inhuman torment! ===== On the day Khloe Evans was put on trial by her fiance, it was raining heavily. "Khloe Evans, you are suspected of bribing competition judges, academic fraud, and attempted homicide. Do you plead guilty or not?" Inside the silent and solemn courtroom, the judge's gavel echoed, signaling the start of a tense moment. Khloe's bldshot eyes were filled with anger and desperation, staring at Eric Watson, her fiance. She couldn't help but sneer. They had spent four years from falling in love to getting married; she had always believed that he loved her deeply and that their married life would be blissful. But on their wedding day, he personally put her on trial because of her stepsister's words. The Watson family was one of the wealthiest and most influential families in the country. No one would dare to offend them for a nobody like her. Khloe said word by word, "I have nothing to say." All along, she thought Eric was the love of her life. But it turned out he had been having an aair with her stepsister, Sloane Evans. What was more, he had stolen her academic achievements. And now, he falsely accused her of being a mrderer. He was ruthless. What else could she say? The judge banged his gavel again and gave his verdict. "The court hereby sentences the defendant, Khloe Evans, to eight years in prison and a fine of three hundred thousand dollars." The trial concluded, and the prison guards escorted Khloe. As she walked out of the courtroom, Khloe turned and looked back at Eric, sitting in the plaintiff's seat, her eyes burning with deep hatred and fury. ...... Three years had passed. "Khloe Evans, someone has bailed you out. You're free to go." Upon hearing that, Khloe raised her head, her pale face filled with shock. After suffering from endless torture for three years, she had thought that she was bound to stay there for the full sentence. She didn't expect that she would be released one day. An hour after she was released from prison, Khloe was taken to a hospital. She entered a ward, and her heart clenched when she saw her mother through the ICU door, lying motionless in the hospital bed. With a pale face and various apparatus connected to her body, she looked lifeless. "Mom..." Khloe got all worked up, her voice trembling with emotion. She wanted to open the door and go in. "Stop it! This ward is specially secured. No one is allowed to enter without my permission." A female voice suddenly rang out behind her. Khloe turned around and was surprised to see the person who spoke. "Sloane? My mom severed ties with the Evans family long ago. Why are you still doing this to her?" As she spoke, she glared at Sloane with eyes full of hatred. Sloane looked at Khloe, a flicker of jealousy and disdain flashing across her eyes. Then, she sneered, "Khloe, looks like you are mistaken. I'm saving her. Without me, your mother would have died long ago. Perhaps, by the time you come out of prison, you will only see her tomb." Khloe took a deep breath to calm herself down. "Sloane, stop being so hypocritical. You are saving my mother? Only a fool will believe that. What are you really up to? You're using her to manipulate me, right?" "Khloe, you're as clever as ever. No wonder they called you the rising star of academia. But it's a pity that you are now a convict for attempted murder. And your fate is in my hands," Sloane taunted. "So, today, all you need to do is spend a night with Karl Russell. Then, I'll arrange for your release and your mother's treatment." "Karl Russell? That old man is already in his sixties. Are you out of your mind?" Khloe's eyes widened in disbelief. "So what? Should I care? It's you who are going to sleep with him, not me. As long as you spend one night with him, our family can secure the Russell family's arms deal. It's a very lucrative business. You should feel honored that you are selling out your body to make so much money for us. But if you refuse..." Sloane pointed to the ICU. "I'll have them remove your mom's life support, and she'll die right in front of you. I'll give you five seconds to decide. Five, four, three..." "Fine! I'll go," Khloe agreed in despair. This time, she could no longer suppress the tears she had been holding back. She was left with no choice. For the sake of her mother, she had to do it. After freshening up, Khloe was put into a car. Tonight, she was destined to sleep with a sixty-something disgusting man. And she was still a vgin. Chapter 2 Henrik Watson That night, the car glided through the deserted streets, headlights cutting into the night's inky darkness. Bang! A gnshot shattered the silence, deafening and ominously close. Glass sprayed across the seats as the car window exploded, fragments glittering in the dim streetlights. All hell broke loose. Terrified creams echoed in the street as the few remaining shops hurried to lower their shutters. The driver, white-faced and trembling, veered in a panic. The car skidded, tires screeching before slamming into the curb. He slumped forward, unconscious. Beside him, Khloe blinked, disoriented from the impact. Pressing a hand to her throbbing head, she tried to make sense of what had happened. Through the cracked window, she glimpsed flickering orange flames a short distance away. "Oh, no!" She'd stumbled straight into the deadly crossfires of a gnfight. It was likely a turf war turned ugly by two warring gangs. Steadying herself, Khloe pushed open the door and crouched low, inching towards the roadside. But before she could move further, a figure emerged from the darkness. Tall and powerfully built, he was moving fast. Even though a mask obscured most of his features, she could still see his intense eyes and the proud outline of his nose. A dark stain spread across his side, seeping through his clothes--bld. He stumbled towards her, breathing heavily, and collapsed at her feet. Just then, another group of burly men burst from the shadows, each armed to the teeth. Their faces were etched with vicious determination, each bearing a ttoo on the hand. "Perfect! He's down. Now, finish him off!" The leader, bald and snarling, held up his gn and pointed it towards the fallen man. Then, his gaze fell on Khloe. She was dressed to the nines, as she was meant to be a gift for a man tonight. A tight red dress hugged her perfect figure, accentuating her curves and complimenting her porcelain skin. Her glossy hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a delicate, doll-like face with wide, innocent eyes. In a word, she looked like a vision from a dream--or a man's tptation made flesh. The bald man's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with leerous intent. He had never seen such a beautiful woman before, and he wasn't about to let an opportunity like this slide. "While you're finishing him off, I'll help myself to this beauty." He lunged, shoving Khloe back against the shattered window, pressing his weight against her. "No, please!" she pleaded, her voice trembling as she tried to pull away. "Please don't hurt me." "Why would I hurt a beauty like you?" he taunted, his fingers gripping her shoulder tightly as he leaned closer, his hot breath on her skin. His men jeered behind him, urging him on, enjoying the show. But Khloe's hand moved, almost imperceptibly, reaching into her purse. In one swift, desperate motion, her fingers closed around a pen, and she drove it up into his neck with a fierce thrust. The bald man's eyes widened in shock as bld spurted from the wound, his grip loosening. Gone was the look of a damsel in distress; her eyes, which were so full of fear just a second earlier, now glinted with a cold light. What was once a delicate, angelic beauty had transformed into a bld-stained rose, dark and dangerous. "B*ch, you're asking for it!" The henchmen froze for a split second, then fury overcame them, and they charged at Khloe with murderous intent. Her voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. "Don't move, or I'll pull the pen out! He'll bleed out on the spot!" The men abruptly stopped in their tracks. No one dared to move a muscle. At this moment, the man who'd been lying motionless suddenly sprang to life, gn in hand, and unleashed a hail of bllets on the stunned thgs. He moved with such agility that it was clear his injury had only been a ruse. Even the bald man Khloe held hostage collapsed in a bldy heap, a bullet having shattered his skull in an instant. Khloe spun her head just in time, avoiding the bld splatter. But her clothes and legs weren't so lucky; they were stained with bld, sticky and warm. "Ugh!" The sickly, metallic scent hit her, and her stomach churned. She couldn't stop herself from retching, knees buckling as she collapsed sideways. But before she hit the ground, an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her upright. The man's grip was firm, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Feisty little thing, weren't you so badass just a second ago? What happened?" Khloe recoiled, shoving him away, her face twisting in defiance. "Let go of me!" Before she could get another word out, black-clad men suddenly emerged from the shadows, their faces hard, eyes cold. Even the surrounding rooftops showed silhouettes of these men, controlling all sniper points. Each man moved with such deadly precision, and Khloe could tell at a glance that they were all experienced killers. They brandished machine guns and rocket launchers with practiced ease, as though these were everyday items. In a word, they looked like an elite strike force--battle-hardened, lethal. Unexpectedly, one by one, they all started dropping to their knees, as though bowing before a king. Thousands of them bowed in unison. "Awaiting your orders, Mr. Watson," the leader announced reverently. Khloe's breath hitched. "Are you Henrik Watson?" Chapter 3 The Kiss Henrik accepted a handkerchief from his trusted aide, Rhett Foster, wiping the bld from his hands with deliberate, almost regal precision. He then removed his mask slowly, revealing a face that could seize anyone's breath. His eyes were dark, magnetic pools, deep enough to pull anyone in. And above his perfectly-shaped lips was a prominent, sculpted nose. His chiseled features conveyed both power and beauty, almost too flawless to belong to any ordinary man. It was the kind of face that could eclipse even the brightest stars in the showbiz. But more than his appearance, it was his aura--commanding, indomitable--that sent shivers down spines. This was a man who held dominion over countless lives. Henrik smiled, a flash of danger glinting in his eyes. "So what if I am?" Khloe's eyes went as wide as saucers. Henrik Watson--that name carried the weight of legend. Henrik had once been a branch member of the Watson family before vanishing into obscurity for ten long years. When he resurfaced, he singlehandedly seized control of the nation's underworld, rendering him a king without rival. In fact, he was so powerful that even the president treaded carefully around him. Khloe's ex-fiance, Eric, was a member of the Watson family, which had ascended from obscurity to supremacy solely thanks to Henrik. By blood, Eric was Henrik's nephew. So, if her marriage to Eric pushed through, Henrik would be her husband's uncle. Khloe's stepsister, Sloane, had maneuvered her into offering herself to Karl Russell. Though Karl held sway in the city, he was nothing against Henrik's underworld might. It was like comparing a lion to a mouse. As the thought struck her, hope flickered within Khloe. If she could gain Henrik's support, she might escape her forced sacrifice, and her mother could be saved. Steadying her breath, she asked tentatively, "Since I just helped you, could I ask you a favor?" Henrik's gaze sharpened, eyes gleaming with intrigue. It was the first time a woman had faced him with such poise, especially after witnessing him kill so many people. Interest piqued, Henrik strode towards Khloe with an almost lazy confidence, each step measured and unhurried. His sculpted fingers pinched her chin, lifting it so she was looking right at him. He held her gaze as he studied her with a trace of amusement in his eyes. His voice, low and rich, sent a chill through the air. "Do you have any idea who you're talking to? Aren't you afraid I'll kill you?" A shiver raced through Khloe's heart. His presence was overwhelming, like a storm cloud closing in, suffocating in its intensity. He was dangerous--merely speaking to him was like playing with fire. But she had nowhere else to turn; Henrik was her only chance. "I have a Ph.D. in chemistry and medicine, along with patents--highly profitable ones. If you help me, I can make you money," she said, voice steady but with a glint of desperation. Henrik shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Money?" he murmured, his fingers brushing her cheek. "Do I look like I lack money?" The scent of bld clung faintly to his skin, chilling her even as he remained outwardly gentle. Khloe's guard went up instinctively, her body tensing beneath his touch. "What do you want?" she ventured cautiously. "If it's within my power, I'm willing to exchange anything." A spark flickered in Henrik's dark eyes, something enigmatic and unreadable. He let his gaze drift over her as if considering her offer. "Anything, you say?" All of a sudden, he let out a chilling laugh. "Then I want this." In one swift motion, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. And there, before all his men, he kissed her. Chapter 4 Decisive Action The kiss came unexpectedly. Khloe was caught off guard, unable to respond in time. Henrik's subordinates stood frozen, their eyes wide with disbelief. They had all worked for him for years, and never once had they seen him so close with a woman. Henrik had always been the type to keep his distance from women. In the past, women who approached him either ended up as fish food or were sent to toil in the mines at his orders. What kind of spell had this woman cast? How was it that she managed to make Henrik abandon all his usual rules, and all on their very first meeting? As the crowd remained stunned and puzzled, Khloe's thoughts swirled in chaos, making it impossible to think straight. Henrik's kiss was overwhelming, like a storm crashing down on her, leaving her breathless and dizzy. She found herself trapped in his arms, held so tightly it felt as though she were a flower caught in a violent storm. Yet she was anything but fragile. Once the shock wore off, a surge of anger rose within her. For years, she had endured humiliation, her fall from grace plunging her into the darkest depths. But giving up was never an option; she had always been plotting her revenge. It was only natural that she refused to yield. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss with equal ferocity. After all, what harm could a kiss do? And the man was both devastatingly handsome and of high standing. She would not suffer any losses. She skillfully fought back with her tgue, refusing to let him dominate her entirely. Instead of pulling back, she met his intensity head-on, taking the lead. What began as a one-sided kiss quickly transformed into a fierce exchange, each of them vying for control, pushing and pulling in a heated battle for dominance. The kiss was fierce and all-consuming, each second more passionate than the last, until they were both gasping for air. When they finally pulled away, their lips were swollen and stained with bl**d, a testament to the intensity of the moment. Henrik let go of Khloe, his hand brushing against the corner of his mouth where her teeth had left their mark. His gaze was intense, locking onto her with a depth that seemed to pierce right through her. Khloe held his stare steadily, not flinching or showing even the slightest sign of discomfort. Her fearless attitude earned her the respect of those watching. It was clear now why Henrik was drawn to her. She was bold, with a courage that couldn't be ignored. She had the audacity to bite Henrik's lips, unafraid of the consequences. Henrik continued to gaze at Khloe, a growing satisfaction building within him. The sting on his lips reminded him sharply of what had just happened. The woman standing before him, with a face as stunning as an angel's, was no delicate flower. She was a thorny rose, and anyone foolish enough to underestimate her would undoubtedly pay the price. But that was exactly what made her so captivating--it was the danger beneath the beauty that drew him in. "Mr. Watson, is everything to your liking?" Khloe asked, breaking the stillness. "Yes, let's go," Henrik replied with a smile. "Now, let's take care of your little issue." ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &9&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65284322-fb_contact-e	Heat Novel A	https://www.facebook.com/100089743291944/	609	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	IMAGE		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65284322-fb_contact-enp98_2-1210-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=673595984708315&exdata=E7C53BDECE0DE88B91C16287FB89323D36A818A798F68A66	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475746205_591938937033014_3580812400250843929_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ZeGnrxZ8skcQ7kNvgF7UvPJ&_nc_oc=AdjAc6bfkA7CKhkhzGOEFnlQ_I2gQeBK079rBq7HF4MC2dTLyCdVVUqn49CwyIvn1aHWnwyYq_iyKYAxsb8Htk88&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AX1GQJvoMOGt5qNJCOLWxSB&oh=00_AYDwvD6HXoQ3mrR-iRYL83gy8FsLzrD2pIrK6AF08qrNNg&oe=67CBA287	PERSON_PROFILE	Heat Novel A	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,749,077	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 09:54	active	2763	Read next chapter	To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blde. "You're the one who climbed into my bd back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi*ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his bdmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my bd, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in bd. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her chst. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red mrk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my bd too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You bch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame graning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? 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2,749,079	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 09:54	active	2763	Read next chapter	To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blde. "You're the one who climbed into my bd back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi*ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his bdmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my bd, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in bd. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her chst. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red mrk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my bd too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You bch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame graning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e	Fun reading A	https://www.facebook.com/61569549552159/	23	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	IMAGE		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0204-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=1166169688155768&exdata=2B4C666170BD1F15326FCEDDA9245E566B86BAB3F1CDDB49	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475962410_595139393406458_4106471804106077473_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=YbSHQiBv0ogQ7kNvgFwEtiw&_nc_oc=Adis8qz12v5ry9csnZI7x3d3PLnHxI--XJAJaUgV9mzNZgLFrvDo9s0SrnBFPjUeKKI_GZdhEPzHZrc94uJAB-ag&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AX1GQJvoMOGt5qNJCOLWxSB&oh=00_AYDfYoH8xqe2ORiVIDOOzEFEGhFyfantifVRJPVi1-h1wg&oe=67CBA493	PERSON_PROFILE	Fun reading A	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,749,083	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 09:54	active	2763	Read next chapter	To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blde. "You're the one who climbed into my bd back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi*ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his bdmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my bd, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in bd. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her chst. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red mrk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my bd too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You bch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame graning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e	Fun Novel	https://www.facebook.com/100090881055588/	1,340	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	VIDEO		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=233925549638247&exdata=FC3EB673E6B15A848537CED8666F2A8B1FAC5B97D136D841	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474974236_1146688700222307_1607899247222785698_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=PME_K-zyE6AQ7kNvgEUkZtW&_nc_oc=AdisHPwavTisIzko6k91s_u9a1zknEv8cPFyCMh7LXgSdOlt9d_wzbiV59hu_-eRIgg41-YyZTodehjwwucVxYob&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AX1GQJvoMOGt5qNJCOLWxSB&oh=00_AYB6YB3wH2sIEqs7YcPTXLBFQ1-WV7refGFht83dHVHP9Q&oe=67CBBCB2	PERSON_PROFILE	Fun Novel	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,749,090	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 09:54	active	2763	Read next chapter	To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blde. "You're the one who climbed into my bd back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi*ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his bdmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my bd, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in bd. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her chst. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red mrk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my bd too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You bch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame graning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e	Fun Novel	https://www.facebook.com/100090881055588/	1,340	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	IMAGE		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=233925549638247&exdata=FC3EB673E6B15A8451A544703F6F28B4A72C7CBF526C031A	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475136832_1783721985801382_8231753221284391016_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=lvp3gy5veMUQ7kNvgG17DkC&_nc_oc=Adgvhhw1pXsumyYcO8zWC-mcBoxuBPRagrf8uQpy0cDwhgVDSntt5DWrXZ2lr4vQwt82C9uRDKT1K_hxDEzEA6zh&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AX1GQJvoMOGt5qNJCOLWxSB&oh=00_AYCRL5WiMIK04JnbYn0J8y0Q8tCq67KJ4_302FVDCNnLkg&oe=67CB89EA	PERSON_PROFILE	Fun Novel	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,749,089	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 09:54	active	2763	Read next chapter	To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blde. "You're the one who climbed into my bd back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi*ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his bdmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my bd, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in bd. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her chst. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red mrk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my bd too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You bch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame graning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e	Fun Novel	https://www.facebook.com/100090881055588/	1,340	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	IMAGE		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=233925549638247&exdata=FC3EB673E6B15A8492B2D8C040222A43A3B9C312C8A5E4E2	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475139280_2093788384385200_24272566964936462_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=2tioe9H9ig8Q7kNvgEgA7Rp&_nc_oc=AdhhtT7QKRbbjSd5X-68CiBRlskQGxQb9eT2orBQ2cWLFRUhYAOENruoziEfzkDIue0sii30xdVJ00wfqYXPb3ch&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AX1GQJvoMOGt5qNJCOLWxSB&oh=00_AYA-BAxYfofSFjjCZJnRvs3KyQqaaDDGGMukmDw9zE8Sag&oe=67CB9386	PERSON_PROFILE	Fun Novel	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,748,811	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2748796}'	Yes	2025-03-03 09:54	active	2763	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1 As the upcoming tour approached, the dance troupe suddenly revoked my position as the lead dancer. Anxious to get an explanation in person, I lost my footing due to my distracted state and tumbled down the stairs. While enduring the sharp pain and preparing to call for emergency services, a notification popped up on my phone screen: “Redwood Dance Troupe: Welcome our new lead dancer, Averil Wells, and our generous sponsor, Julian Ford." The accompanying photo featured two smiling faces—my husband of seven years, whom I had secretly married, and his pampered mistress. Julian had his arm wrapped around Averil's waist as he placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. Meanwhile, Averil clung to Julian's neck, her face radiating shyness and delight. I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and posted a photo of our marriage certificate in the comments section: "Is your troupe’s new production called the Union of Illegitimates?" Before long, Julian called me. "Victoria Dean, what stupid thing are you doing now? How many times do I have to tell you that Averil and I are just putting on a show." I sniffled. "Julian, what gives you the right to take away my lead dancer role?" There was a brief silence on the other end. "Are you part of Redwood?" After a pause, he added nonchalantly, "Averil wanted the lead role in this tour as her birthday gift. I didn’t realize that role was yours. Go online and clarify immediately. Tell everyone that the marriage certificate was doctored." I found it laughable. He didn’t even know where I worked but remembered Averil’s birthday gift request. "And then? Why would I fake a marriage certificate?" Julian replied calmly, "You can say you’re just a fan of mine." "Julian Ford, what do you take me for?" He sighed softly on the other end. "Victoria, we’ve been married for seven years. We’re practically an old married couple. Averil is young; there’s no need to compete with her." He must have forgotten that I married him before finishing college. Though we’d been married for seven years, I was only a year older than Averil. "Julian, I fell down the stairs, and my leg hurts." "Victoria, it’s just an apology and a clarification. It’s not that hard." Julian sounded genuinely disappointed. "When did you turn into such a shameless liar?" Drip. Drip. Tears, mingled with blood from my nose, splattered onto the back of my hand. Pressing a hand over my mouth, I hung up the call. Julian called again, but I immediately put his number on silent. I called for an ambulance myself. When the paramedics arrived, they asked if I had any family to accompany me. "No," I replied numbly, tilting my head back. "They're all gone." On the way to the hospital, Julian sent me a message, "Victoria, Averil was so upset by you that she fainted. You need to come to the hospital immediately to apologize in person. Bring an appropriate gift; there will be reporters present. Don’t worry about your reputation. This mess is your fault to begin with." My hands trembled as I typed a two-word reply, “Keep dreaming." Then I turned off my phone, shutting myself away in solitude. While waiting in the hospital hallway for my X-ray results, I unexpectedly heard a familiar voice: "Mr. Watson, I’m Victoria’s boyfriend. If there’s anything she needs moving forward, feel free to contact me directly." I looked up, locking eyes with Julian as he walked in. His steps faltered for a moment, his movements stiff, but he quickly acted as if he didn’t recognize me. Continuing his conversation with Benjamin Watson, he passed me without a second glance. The faint citrus scent clinging to him twisted my stomach in knots. I almost bolted, but Julian turned back. He seemed to have rushed over, and when he noticed I was still there, a flicker of exasperation crossed his face. "Victoria, have you thought it through?" "I told you to keep dreaming." I pushed past him, limping away in the opposite direction. I felt Julian's gaze linger on my injured leg for a moment, growing colder by the second. "Victoria, are you really stooping to this kind of ploy just to avoid apologizing?" I didn’t want to respond. All I wanted was to get away from this hallway, thick with the scent of Averil’s perfume. A large hand grabbed my shoulder, yanking me back. I stumbled, barely able to steady myself as a sharp pain shot through my leg. "Ah!" I couldn’t hold back a cry of pain. Julian’s brow furrowed in irritation, his tone laced with displeasure. "You’ve really let me down." With practiced ease, he reached into my pocket and took my phone. "Give it back!" I stretched my arm to snatch it, but Julian, clearly annoyed, gave me a firm shove. "Hank, hold her." The bodyguard, tall and imposing, pinned me effortlessly. I couldn’t break free. "Julian Ford!!" Chapter 2 A mask was tossed over. "Cover her mouth. Stop her from screaming." My wrist was locked in a crushing grip, my legs throbbed with pain, and my mouth was tightly covered. All I could do was let my tears flow helplessly. I could only watch as Julian took my phone, logged into my account, and posted an apology and clarification in my name. "I’ve changed your password and replaced your verification number with mine. For now, just stay out of trouble." When Julian finally looked up and saw my state, he seemed startled. He pushed Hank, away, glaring at him in reproach. "Did you really have to use that much force?" He rubbed my wrist gently. "Does it hurt? If you’d listened earlier, this wouldn’t have happened." I snatched my phone back and reluctantly opened my social media, only to find a post uploaded from my account that read: "I apologize for my earlier comment on Redwood Dance Troupe’s post. I am not married to Mr. Julian Ford. As a fan, I acted on selfish impulses. I also want to apologize to Ms. Averil Wells and Mr. Julian Ford for any trouble I’ve caused." My hands trembled as I tried to open the comments section. "Victoria, have you no shame?" “Victoria, my God, your desperation to become the other woman practically oozes through the screen." "Victoria, people like you are a disgrace to dancers everywhere. Get out of this industry!" ... Julian took the phone from my hand again. "Don’t look." I moved my lips, my voice low and unsteady. "Julian, is this what you wanted?" He turned his face away. "People online forget quickly. I’ll have someone redirect the narrative later. Just stay off your phone for a few days." I shook my head slowly, my vision unfocused. "Julian, you’ve destroyed me." I couldn’t make out his expression, but his voice, tinged with irritation, rang in my ears. "I already told you I’ll handle it. Why are you making a scene? If you hadn’t caused all this trouble yourself, would things be this messy? Victoria, you have to understand that even if I deliberately put you in the spotlight, it’s your own fault you ended up like this!" A sharp ringing filled my ears, drowning out everything else as a bitter laugh escaped my lips. "Julian, let’s get a divorce." He seemed to chuckle, his voice indulgent yet exasperated. "You’re upset right now. If venting helps, go ahead." He was convinced I wouldn’t divorce him, using his supposed tolerance to display his magnanimity. Surprisingly, Julian’s laughter brought me an eerie sense of calm. Just then, the doctor called my name from the other end of the hallway. "Victoria Dean, your test results are ready." Julian froze for a moment and followed after me. "What test results?" "Julian,” a soft voice called out from behind him. “Why have you been gone so long?" He immediately turned back, heading toward Averil, who stood at the doorway of her hospital room. "Averil, why did you come out? You should be resting. Get back to bed," he said, his tone filled with concern. Dragging my numb, pain-ridden leg, I walked in the opposite direction, completely away from him. It felt as though I were stepping on razor blades. Every step sliced through my flesh. Every step tore through my soul. The doctor handed me the results and warned me that I needed to rest for the next month. Without it, dancing again would be out of the question. I hailed a cab and returned home to face the cold emptiness of my apartment alone. Because of our secret marriage, Julian and I maintained separate residences. He’d deliberately chosen the unit right above mine. On my first night there, he pinned me against the wall and kissed me. "Now I can sneak into your bed every night.” Julian seemed to take particular pleasure in this illicit game, as though the secrecy added a thrill. I once thought it was just a peculiar quirk beneath his otherwise serious exterior. But I was wrong. The thrill wasn’t about secrecy—it was about betrayal. He had grown bored of me and set his sights on the newer, more enticing Averil. Chapter 3 At nine in the evening, Julian arrived with a bag of fruit. "Victoria, I got you some cherries. Want to have some now?" I tossed my phone at him. The screen displayed Averil’s latest post: "I said I wanted sweet-and-sour cherries, and he ended up buying regular ones instead. Hilarious." "Did she not want them, so you decided to throw them my way?" Julian frowned. "Don’t be like this..." He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around my waist in a familiar gesture. "Is this because I haven’t touched you for so long? Are you upset about that?" I shoved him away with all my strength, then made a point of gagging a few times right in front of him. Dark clouds gathered on his face. "Victoria Dean, that’s enough. Stop acting like this." "Acting like what?" My heart ached, tears streaming down my face. "Do you have any idea how many hateful calls I’ve received? Do you know I’ve been blacklisted by every major dance troupe? My career is ruined! Julian Ford, what did I do wrong to deserve this?" I’ve always been the quiet, mild-tempered type—in other words, easy to push around. Julian used to playfully tug on my earlobe, his voice full of affection. "Victoria, you’re so easy to bully. What would you do without me?" I never once imagined he’d leave me behind. Years ago, when my parents took their own lives under a cloud of scandal, the entire world turned its back on me. Julian was the one who pulled me out of the mud. He stood up to his family for me, and I still remember how he knelt in the rain for hours, defying their disapproval. He took me far away from the pain and gave us a fresh start in a new city. Even when I was at my lowest, broken and worthless, Julian didn’t give up on me The hardest days were behind us, yet now I faced his betrayal. “Let’s divorce,” I said, closing my eyes. “At least let me keep some dignity.” "Victoria..." Julian pinched the bridge of his nose, looking weary. "This isn’t the first time you got insulted, so why are you acting so delicate now?" My eyes flew open in disbelief, and I stared at him, stunned. “What did you just say?” Julian pressed his lips into a thin line, his expression dark. “When your parents took their lives, the whole country was cursing you—” “Get out!” I screamed, grabbing a cushion from the sofa and hurling it at him. “Get out!” Julian looked utterly taken aback. He had never seen me so hysterical. After a moment of stunned silence, he stormed out, taking the bag of cherries with him. “Don’t need my leftovers, huh? Fine. Let’s see how long you can hold out,” he snapped as he left. Not even ten minutes later, Averil posted another update. "First day in the new place—this décor is so tacky. What kind of tasteless guy thought this up?" The photograph showed his upstairs apartment. The so-called "tacky décor" was all my work. Julian even replied to her post, "Yeah, it’s pretty bad. Let’s tear it down and redo it." I rubbed my sore eyes, my tears long dried. A house could be redecorated. A partner could be replaced. To him, I was nothing more than an old, discarded toy. When yet another harassing phone call came through, I finally pulled out my SIM card and replaced it with the number I’d used during my overseas performances. Back then, a prestigious international dance troupe had extended me an offer, but I had turned down the opportunity because I couldn’t bear to part with Julian. Now, with my heart pounding, I nervously dialed the number that had contacted me back then. “Hello, is this Mr. Jason Yates?” There was silence on the other end. If not for the faint sound of breathing, I would have thought the call had been disconnected. Why wasn’t he speaking? Had he seen the trending news? Clutching the phone tightly, my palms grew damp with sweat. “Mr. Yates, please listen to me. I didn’t do any of those things. I’ve tried to post a clarification, but my social media account has been taken over. Every time I create a new one, my post gets deleted within seconds. I…” “Wait for me.” A low, muffled male voice interrupted me. It sounded unexpectedly familiar but was completely different from the blond-haired Jason I remembered. I froze. “You’re not Jason?” “Wait for me,” the voice repeated before abruptly hanging up. I stood there, bewildered, trying to make sense of what just happened. As I was still in a daze, a text message came through, "Taking off. Turning off my phone." A few seconds later, another message arrived, "Wait for me to return. I’ll take you away." Chapter 4 Although his words were vague, they made his stance clear. I exhaled in relief. Over the next few days, I started packing my belongings and handling the necessary paperwork. I didn’t have much—just one suitcase in total. I left behind everything Julian had ever bought for me. It wasn’t because I was virtuous, nor was it because I still had feelings for him. He had cheated, leaving me utterly broken. When my world crumbled, my parents died in disgrace, and I became a pariah hounded by those who blamed me for the children’s deaths, it was Julian who saved me. I didn’t know how he convinced his father, but after that long night kneeling in the rain, he was cast out of the Ford family. At the same time, the relentless attacks against me online suddenly disappeared. He gave me a new name, a new identity, and a new life. He truly caught me as I was falling, staying by my side through the darkest of days. For that alone, I couldn’t bring myself to hate him. All I wanted now was for us to part on good terms. After three days of silence, Julian showed up again. "Have you come to your senses after taking some time to cool off?" I nodded, calm and collected. "I have." He misunderstood me, a smug arc lifting his brow. "Good. That’s more like it, Victoria. Remember your place. If you behave, I’ll take care of you. But if you overstep your boundaries, I’ll make sure you’re left with nothing." He delivered his threats, but when I stayed silent, his gaze wavered, a hint of confusion flickering in his eyes. "Are you done talking?" I placed the divorce papers on the table. "If so, just sign them." Julian’s gaze darkened as he stared at the document. His cold eyes turned even frostier. "Victoria, you’ve known about my relationship with Averil for a long time. Why couldn’t you, like before, just pretend nothing happened? Why not turn a blind eye and continue enjoying the comfort of being Mrs. Ford? "Everything she has, you have too. And what she doesn’t have, I can give you. Victoria, you shouldn’t be so ungrateful." I stared at Julian in shock, unable to believe those words had come out of his mouth. I still remembered back in high school, when Julian found out his father had cheated. His mother discovered the affair, and the resulting chaos rocked the entire family. Julian’s father shouted at his mother, "Men in my position are expected to have mistresses. I’m not divorcing you, so stop making a scene." At fifteen, Julian had grabbed a baseball bat and shattered a porcelain vase next to his father. Amid the scattered shards, he said coldly, "A man without responsibility doesn’t deserve to be called a man." At that moment, I thought Julian was the coolest person in the world. But now, fifteen years later, that once-principled boy had grown into the exact kind of man he had once despised. The thirty-year-old Julian had become a mirror image of the father he loathed. The realization made me sick to my stomach. "Not a chance," I said, pushing the divorce papers closer to him again. "After the divorce, you can keep as many women as you like." Julian stared at me for a long moment before finally picking up the papers between two fingers, his expression unreadable. "You want a divorce? Fine. But don’t you think it’s time we settle the debt you owe me for all these years?" I nodded and took out a bank card. "There’s one million in this account. It’s more than enough to cover the cost of my living expenses over the years." Julian’s brows furrowed as he looked at the card I had clearly prepared in advance. "One million? Do you think that’s enough?" "It’s enough." I met his gaze firmly. "I’ve kept track of every household expense. The records are in the study if you want to verify them. The luxury items and jewelry you bought me are all accounted for as well. The ones I used have already been depreciated and factored into the total. "Julian Ford, I owe you nothing." He was silent for so long that I thought he might refuse. But then, to my surprise, he let out a low chuckle. "I was planning to take you to a charity gala tomorrow night. But since you don’t need me, let’s forget about it." His gaze lingered on my face for a few seconds, as though he were searching for a hint of regret. But he was destined to be disappointed. My expression remained calm, devoid of any emotional fluctuation. "We’re in a secret marriage, Julian. The role of Mrs. Ford can be replaced anytime." His lips pressed into a thin line before he tossed an invitation onto the table. "Your name is on it. Come with me tomorrow night, and I’ll agree to the divorce." Chapter 5 I had no idea what Julian was trying to accomplish. But I had no other choice but to agree. When I changed into the gown Julian sent over and arrived at the venue, chauffeured by his driver, I realized I had underestimated his cruelty. This wasn’t a private gala at all. The red carpet was lined with media reporters and cameras, while fans holding flowers and banners screamed the names of their idols. I barely had time to process it before someone noticed me. "Look! Isn’t that the fake marriage fraudster?" Ever since Julian used my account to post that forced apology, I’d been labeled as the "fake marriage fraudster." I had seen countless insults online, but no amount of text could compare to the humiliation of hearing the taunts whispered directly in my ear. "Victoria Dean, how do you even have the nerve to show your face here?" "Look at her dress. Averil’s wearing white, and so is she. Typical attention-seeking move." "Don’t even try to compare her to our idol, Averil. She’s not worthy!" "Exactly. Averil’s dress is haute couture, straight off the runway, and hers? Looks like a two-year-old knockoff." The vicious jeers flooded my ears. I tried to turn and escape, but a "staff member" grabbed my arm. Looking up, I recognized him instantly—it was Hank, Julian’s bodyguard. He smiled at me, his eyes glinting with malice. "Miss Dean, Mr. Ford said you must enter the venue." Hank was a distant relative of Averil. Last time at the hospital, he had purposely gripped me so hard that bruises bloomed all over my arm. Julian had seen it but only gave a cursory reprimand. Now, he had unleashed him on me again. The Julian who once cherished me like I was his whole world was long gone. Bitterness welled up inside me, sharp and sour, but there was no escaping. Hank dragged me forward, half-pulling, half-shoving. "Look at Victoria’s awkward walk! Doesn’t she look like a lame old mule?" "She’s probably trying to crash the red carpet and got shut down by the bodyguard!" "Victoria, you’re a trashy parasite!" Before I could react, a sharp insult was followed by a sudden blow—a drink bottle hurtled toward me out of nowhere, hitting me squarely. I tried to dodge, but Hank deliberately blocked my way, even shoving me toward the incoming bottle. “Ah!” Purple grape juice splattered all over me, soaking my white gown and leaving it stained and blotchy. "Ha! Doesn’t she look like she’s on her period?" "Fake marriage fraudster, don’t you have any shame? Get out of here!" "If I were you, I’d just jump off a building and be done with it. The thicker the skin, the cheaper the person!" Amid the harsh laughter, I struggled to wrench free from Hank’s grip. "Let me go! I need to change!" Hank gave me a mocking glance. "Sorry, but even if you’re barely breathing, you’re going into the venue tonight. Mr. Ford said if you want the divorce, you’ll get through tonight’s event first. Otherwise, you’ll face the consequences." I froze in place. Of course. How could I forget? Julian was now the rising star of the Harbor City elite. And me? A woman whose very identity couldn’t even see the light of day—what leverage did I have to fight him? I let out a bitter laugh. "Fine. Let go of me. I’ll walk myself." Hank had no intention of making things easy. Not only did he refuse to let go, but he also quickened his pace, deliberately dragging me along. Stumbling and disheveled, I was hauled through the venue, drawing more jeers and mocking stares with every step. By the time we reached Julian, Hank had transformed back into his obedient and unassuming self. Julian’s cold gaze swept over me, taking in my ruined dress. "What happened?" I glared at him, seething with anger. "Why bother pretending? Isn’t this exactly what you wanted to see?" His brow furrowed, just as a slender, pale arm reached out from behind, curling around his own. "Victoria, I’m so sorry! It was one of my fans who spilled juice on you." Averil, dressed in a flawless white couture gown, clung tightly to Julian’s side. "She probably got upset seeing you wear a dress so similar to mine. Surely you wouldn’t mind, right, Victoria?" In the past, her deliberate provocations would have ignited my anger. But now, all I wanted was to leave. "Julian Ford, you wanted me here. I showed up. You set me up for humiliation, and I endured it. You’ve made your point. Can I go now?" Though framed as a question, I had no intention of waiting for his response. I turned away, desperate to escape. "Don’t leave." Someone stepped into my path, blocking my way. Chapter 6 "Well, if it isn’t Victoria Dean, the great dancer herself. Since you’re here, why not give us a performance before you leave?" I didn’t recognize the man in front of me, but it was obvious that he was just one of Julian’s pawns sent to humiliate me. "Move," I said coldly, my expression hardened. "Oh, look at that attitude." The man sized me up as if I were a product on display. "Still think you’re the rising star of the dance world? You do know, don’t you? You’ve already been blacklisted from the industry." His words knocked the breath out of me, leaving me feeling like I’d plunged into icy water. "Julian," I said, turning to him. "Is he telling the truth?" Julian swirled the wine in his glass, his gaze distant and cold. "This is your punishment for what you did wrong." I couldn’t hold back anymore and pressed him. "What did I do wrong? What could possibly justify you ruining my career and cutting off all my opportunities? Julian Ford, answer me!" His lips tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. "You know very well what you did." Averil laughed softly. "Victoria, I’m performing tonight. Since your reputation hasn’t been great lately, why not dance too? There are plenty of influential people here. Maybe someone will take an interest in you." I stared at Averil, my gaze unflinching until her smile faded. "Julian," she said, shrinking behind him. "Victoria looks so scary." Julian patted her hand, his eyes fixed on me. "Victoria, didn’t you want to cozy up to the right people? There are several entertainment executives here tonight. This is your chance. Why not make the most of it?" I took in a sharp breath, unable to recognize the man standing before me. I thought back to the year Julian first started his business. He was desperate for seed money, and without it, he would have missed a golden opportunity. I had secretly taken a job dancing at a nightclub to make quick cash, but when Julian found out, he’d rather sell his blood than let me expose myself like that. "You know how jealous I am," he had said back then. "I can’t stand the thought of any man looking at you, even for a second." He had loved me so fiercely back then. We spent nights wrapped in each other’s arms in that tiny, run-down apartment, finding joy in the simplest things—even sharing a single apple felt like a feast. And now? He seemed indifferent, almost eager, to push me toward other men. My voice came out dry and hoarse, barely recognizable. "Alright, as you wish." I pushed past the person blocking my way and headed toward a director I had once worked with. "Look, Victoria’s still limping. Could she really be injured?" "Ignore her. She’s faking it." Julian’s voice, filled with arrogance and disdain, blended seamlessly with the mocking laughter around me, creating a suffocating web of humiliation. I forced myself to reach the director, but before I could even greet him, he quickly stepped aside, avoiding me like the plague. I froze, knowing there was no point in asking. But I couldn’t accept it. I had always been known as one of the most hardworking dancers in the industry. My low-key and professional demeanor had earned me a solid reputation. So many people had once begged me for collaborations, making grand promises. I refused to believe that all my accomplishments could be completely erased by Julian’s words. I dragged my injured leg forward, lowering myself to approach others I recognized in the crowd. Yet every one of them avoided me as if I were poison. Some walked away the moment they spotted me, while others sided with Averil, mocking me openly. I swallowed my pride and endured every insult, but by the time I had exhausted every option in the vast banquet hall, I finally realized just how pathetic I had become. I was nothing more than a clown under the spotlight, put on display for everyone’s amusement. They couldn’t resist stepping on me, mocking me. And leading the charge was the man I had once believed I could entrust with my life. Julian looked at me, his expression grim. "Victoria, haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough?" Averil chimed in, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "Julian, Victoria is my senior after all. Why not just let it go?" He didn’t respond, but the tight furrow of his brows relaxed slightly. "Let it go? No way!" someone shouted deliberately. "A dancer daring to put on airs—if word gets out, won’t it tarnish Mr. Ford’s reputation?" "Exactly. Even if Mr. Ford doesn’t stoop to her level, she still needs to be taught a lesson. She has to learn what lines she shouldn’t cross." "Victoria, drink this glass of liquor, and we’ll consider giving you another chance," one of Julian’s lackeys said, shoving a full glass of vodka into my hand. "What do you all think?" The crowd erupted in enthusiastic agreement, their jeers echoing around me. I turned to Julian and asked, "Is this what you want?" Chapter 7 There were three steps between Julian and me. He didn’t move forward, and I had no desire to close the gap. I knew he was waiting for me to back down. In every argument we’d ever had, I was always the first to surrender—not because he was right, but because I couldn’t forget the salvation he’d given me during my darkest times. In front of him, I always felt a step lower, and I had been willing to tolerate his misplaced anger because of it. Even when he flirted with Averil time and time again, even when he bought her a house to keep her hidden away, I pretended not to see. But today, I couldn’t pretend anymore. I asked again, “Forcing me to drink as an apology—is that what you want?” Julian’s anger flashed across his face when I didn’t apologize as expected. "Yes, it is." I shook my head with a bitter smile, staring at the vodka swirling in the glass. He knew I was allergic to wine. Yet, to defend Averil, he was willing to push me this far. The boy who once couldn’t bear to see me get hurt had finally disappeared with time. Crack. It felt like I heard something shatter. It was the ten years I had shared with Julian. A phrase suddenly came to mind, “There’s no use crying over spilled milk.” “Fine.” I raised the glass and drank it all in one gulp, ignoring the hesitation flickering across Julian’s face. The sharp burn of wine scorched my throat, making me cough until my face flushed red. “Great drinking! Let’s pour her another glass!” Someone tried to refill my glass, but Julian barked, “That’s enough,” shoving them aside. Just as he took a step toward me, Averil latched onto his arm, stopping him in his tracks. "Julian," Averil said with a feigned tone of concern. "It seems like Victoria has shown enough sincerity. How about this? When I perform later, let her join me on stage." She smiled innocently at me, pretending to consider my feelings. "Of course, it might mean Victoria will have to take a supporting role as my backup dancer. What do you think?" "Not happening." The wine still burned in my stomach, and I could feel the heat rising rapidly under my skin. "Averil, that stage is going to be live-streamed, isn’t it? Do you really want to use it to step on me? Or is it that you don’t have any confidence in your own abilities and can only rely on cheap tricks like this to feel relevant?" After swallowing my pride for so long, I finally threw all caution aside, releasing my pent-up anger in one blow. Averil clung to Julian’s arm, swaying it back and forth. "Julian, explain this to her. Victoria must be misunderstanding me." Julian’s face darkened, and his voice carried nothing but disappointment. "Victoria, if you still want to dance, you’ll get up on that stage, whether you want to or not. With your position, you should feel lucky to be dancing alongside Averil." His words were a final ultimatum, shattering the last shred of affection I had left for him. "Julian Ford, what am I to you? A toy? A source of amusement? Or just a prop to make you and Averil look good together? This game of pleasing you—I’m done playing." I pulled off my wedding ring and hurled it back at him, watching as his face turned an ugly shade of blue. Then, in front of the stunned crowd, I took the divorce papers out of my handbag and scattered them at Julian’s feet. "Julian Ford, since you’re so eager to distance yourself from me, fine. As you wish. Sign these papers, and we’re done. From now on, we’re strangers. I wish you and Averil a lifetime together, and don’t ever show your faces in front of me again!"	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2,748,888	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2748822}'	No	2025-03-03 09:54	active	2763	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	The brilliant lights in the hall dimmed, leaving a concentrated glow upon the stage. The bride and groom stood bathed in radiance—she in her flowing white gown, he in his impeccably tailored suit. They were the perfect picture of beauty and elegance. The background music shifted, rising into a crescendo, infusing the air with a palpable sense of excitement. The wedding ceremony had reached its peak. Deidre clasped her left hand over her right, her palms damp with sweat beneath the delicate white gloves. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, each beat echoing like a drum in her ears. She was so nervous it felt as though her heart might leap into her throat. Her gaze settled on the man before her, a mix of elation and unease swirling within her. Micah Landon—one of Salve City's most eligible bachelors, heir to one of its most powerful families—was about to marry her. It felt surreal, like a fairy tale come to life. A Cinderella marrying her prince, with all the incredulity that entailed. Micah stood tall in his sharply cut suit, his handsome face composed, his demeanor radiating charm and distinction. The unframed glasses perched on his high-bridged nose softened the sharpness of his features, lending his eyes a gentle warmth that seemed deeper than usual. "And now, let's have the bride and groom exchange rings!" The emcee's voice was vibrant, his enthusiasm infectious. A poised bridesmaid stepped forward, carrying a tray with a red velvet base upon which the wedding rings rested. Micah's gaze lowered to the open ring box, and for a fleeting moment, his calm façade faltered. His gentle, smiling expression froze ever so slightly. The warmth and softness in his eyes disappeared entirely, replaced by an unfamiliar coldness. Deidre followed his gaze to the rings, her brow furrowing in confusion. These weren't the rings they had chosen together. What was going on? Micah's hand hovered over the ring box but didn't move to pick one up. An awkward pause settled over the ceremony. The emcee hesitated, his expression reflecting the growing tension in the room. Then a shout broke through the silence. "What's that on the screen?" Heads turned toward the massive display behind them. Deidre instinctively followed their gaze. The screen, which had been playing a slideshow of their sweet, romantic pre-wedding photos, now displayed a completely different set of images. The pictures still showed a man and a woman, but the man wasn't Micah. The first photo revealed Deidre being intimately embraced by a stranger outside a hotel. The next showed her leaning into the same man in a hotel room, their bodies close on a bed. The lively background music continued to play, a jarring contrast to the now stifling atmosphere. Whispers swept through the crowd, their eyes darting toward Deidre. Daring to humiliate Micah, the powerful and revered heir, on his wedding day? And this bride, from her modest family background, had the audacity to wear such a scandalous stain on her character? Deidre felt as if lightning had struck her. Panic surged through her as she snapped her gaze toward Micah. His attention was fixed on the screen. The light from the display reflected off his glasses, making it impossible for Deidre to discern his expression. But the tight line of his lips and the vein bulging at his temple revealed enough. A cold blade seemed to pierce her chest, twisting sharply. The once cheerful wedding music now felt like a cruel mockery. "Micah, I didn't—" Deidre started, her voice trembling. Micah's gaze finally shifted to her, his eyes icy and unreadable behind his glasses. The storm brewing in them made her heart sink further. "I…" She wanted to explain, but no words came. The images on the screen were a mystery to her. She had no memory of them, no explanation for their existence. Who would do this to her? Who would want to ruin her like this? Micah's expression grew colder, a mocking glint appearing in his eyes. He didn't say a word. Instead, he glanced at the bridesmaid holding the tray of rings. He picked up one of the rings, turned sharply, and walked away. "Micah, don't go!" Deidre cried, lifting the hem of her gown as she rushed after him. She grabbed his hand, desperate to stop him. He halted briefly, turning to look at her. His lips curved in a faint, mocking smile, his voice low and biting. "This wedding…" He trailed off, his gaze flicking back to the screen where yet another photo appeared—Deidre asleep in bed, her features serene. Beside her, the same stranger propped his head on one hand, gazing at her with a tenderness that seemed all too intimate. Micah's faint smirk turned into a derisive laugh. "…is off." Each word struck Deidre like an arrow, sinking deep into her heart and leaving a searing pain in their wake. He shook off her hand with enough force to send her stumbling backward. She staggered, unable to steady herself, and fell to the ground, her pristine white gown pooling around her like a defeated flag. Chapter 2 The wedding host, visibly flustered as the groom turned and walked away, hastily gestured to the sound engineer to cut the music. As the cheerful background tunes abruptly ceased, the atmosphere shifted, the murmur of the crowd swelling into an unabashed roar of judgment and speculation. "They've been engaged for over a year, and now this scene unfolds at the wedding? Utter humiliation," someone remarked loudly. "She looks so pure, doesn't she? But clearly, she's got other, shall we say, talents that hooked Micah. Guess she practiced those talents with plenty of others. Walk along the river long enough, and you'll get your feet wet. Someone probably got fed up and exposed her. Tsk, tsk." That particular comment sliced through the air like a shard of glass, sharp and cutting. "Nonsense! I didn't do any of that!" Deidre screamed, her voice raw with desperation. Her outburst only added fuel to the fire. None of the attendees spared her even a modicum of sympathy. They were there for the prestige of the Landon family. Now that she had been abandoned by Micah, who was she to them? A nobody, someone to ridicule without consequence. "Look at her, losing her temper. How unsightly." "Exactly. Instead of finding a hole to crawl into, she's still yelling at others." "Such shameless defiance. Playing the victim while pretending to be saintly—what a joke." "If my daughter ever turned out like this, I'd beat her to death." "Let's go. The wedding's clearly over." The voices piled up, overlapping in waves of cruelty. Deidre's head buzzed with a hollow static. None of it made sense. How had the day turned into this nightmare? No. It couldn't end like this. She slipped off her high heels, hoisting up the heavy layers of her wedding gown, and ran after Micah. Outside the hotel, Micah stood by the open door of his car, flipping through some documents. The sight of him brought a glimmer of hope to Deidre's heart, and she quickened her steps. "Micah!" she called out, her voice trembling with both fear and longing. His hand froze mid-turn, but he didn't look up. Tears welled in Deidre's reddened eyes. "How can you just leave me like this? How can you believe those photos without even hearing me out?" Micah finally lifted his gaze, his eyes cold and detached, like a winter wind slicing through her skin. "One week ago," he began, his voice steady but unyielding, "Westin Hotel, Room 309. Was it you?" The precision of his words hit her like a jolt. A specific time, a specific place—her memory stirred reluctantly to life. Her breath hitched as fragments resurfaced. She had been there. It was her sister Valerie's 18th birthday party, and they'd forced a bottle of whiskey down her throat. The next thing she remembered was waking up alone in that hotel room with a splitting headache. The images from the wedding screen replayed in her mind, overlapping with her fragmented recollection. Could it be? But no—when she had woken up that morning, she was alone. There had been no one else, she was sure of it. Her silence spoke volumes. "Can't answer, can you?" Micah's voice dripped with disdain, dragging her back to the present. "I was there, yes, but—" she began, desperate to explain. "Spare me your excuses," he cut her off icily. He thrust the documents in his hand toward her. "Take a good look. No one's an idiot here." Mechanically, Deidre accepted them, her hands trembling. Her eyes skimmed over the pages—photographs, so many photographs. Many were the same ones that had been displayed on the wedding screen, but these… these included more. Her breath caught in her throat. Among the images, her sister Valerie appeared too, unmistakably linked to the events captured. "This isn't real," Deidre stammered. "I'll call Valerie—she'll explain. This is all a misunderstanding. That night—she—" Her frantic words were abruptly silenced as Micah seized her chin, forcing her to look at him. "It's over, Deidre," he said quietly. His gaze locked onto hers, unyielding. She saw her own desperation reflected in the lenses of his frameless glasses, his eyes devoid of warmth or mercy. His voice dropped to a chilling whisper. "If only you'd stayed obedient. But there are no 'if onlys.' You hid it well these past two years. I almost believed in you, fooled by that face of yours. But you're tainted. In the end, it was my mistake for thinking you could ever compare to her." Her mind stumbled over his words, catching on one fragment: "Her." Who was he talking about? Before she could grasp it, Micah let out a bitter laugh. With his free hand, he pulled a ring box from his pocket, opening it with a flick of his thumb. Chapter 3 Deidre recognized the wedding ring—it was the same unfamiliar one that had appeared earlier at the ceremony. Micah's voice broke through the heavy air, low and dripping with disdain. "You're not worthy of this ring." Her heart shuddered at his words, and pain flared across her jaw as he harshly released her. Without so much as a glance back, he stepped into the car, slamming the door shut with finality. His expression remained cold as he instructed the driver, "Drive." Desperate, Deidre chased after the car, her bare feet burning against the scorching pavement. The southern Salve City was in the grip of a relentless summer heat, but she barely noticed. The pain in her feet seemed distant, insignificant compared to the ache in her chest. She ran with abandon, her cumbersome wedding gown tangling around her legs, until she tripped and fell hard onto the unforgiving ground. Her knees and elbows scraped against the rough asphalt, bleeding slightly. She looked utterly disheveled, a far cry from the radiant bride she had been moments ago. The driver, catching sight of her pitiful state in the rearview mirror, hesitated. His foot eased off the gas, and he ventured cautiously, "Young Master Micah, Miss Deidre is—" "Did you not understand what I said earlier?" Micah's tone was sharp, cutting. "Yes, sir!" The driver stiffened, not daring to say another word. He pressed harder on the accelerator, and the car sped away. For a fleeting moment, Deidre thought she saw the car slow down. A glimmer of hope ignited in her eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it came. The car roared forward, disappearing into the distance, leaving her behind. She sat where she had fallen, her meticulously applied bridal makeup now smeared and ruined. The oppressive summer sun bore down on her, but she didn't care. Perhaps if her body suffered enough, her heart might hurt a little less. The sound of approaching heels broke through her haze. A shadow loomed over her, and Deidre slowly looked up to see Casey Landon standing before her, her elegant face frosty with disdain. Casey crouched down, bringing their gazes level. Her lips curled into a cold smile as she produced her phone, unlocking it and flipping through her photo album. She held it out for Deidre to see. "Take a good look. This is my brother's first love." Deidre's face drained of color the moment her eyes landed on the photo. The girl in the picture was young, no older than eighteen or nineteen. Her delicate features radiated joy, her hand raised in a playful gesture that highlighted the ring on her slender finger—a ring identical to the one Micah had just dismissed as unworthy of Deidre. Her breath caught. The resemblance was uncanny. The girl's eyes, especially, bore a startling similarity to her own. "This photo," Casey said coolly, "is why my brother took an interest in you." Deidre's mind reeled. 'You're not worthy of this ring.' Micah's words came rushing back, sharper than ever. "So, I'm… her—" Deidre began, her voice trembling. "Her replacement," Casey finished mercilessly. Her tone was detached, but each syllable landed like a dagger to Deidre's heart. "No… that can't be," Deidre murmured, her voice barely audible. Yet her body betrayed her denial, trembling uncontrollably. Though the summer heat was oppressive, she felt as if she had been plunged into an icy abyss. She was a joke. Right from the start, she had been nothing more than a substitute. Casey watched Deidre descent into despair with evident satisfaction, though her anger hadn't quite abated. She raised her hand and struck Deidre across the face. The slap echoed sharply. Deidre's head snapped to the side, her cheek instantly stinging with heat. A vivid red mark bloomed across her pale skin, the outline of fingers clear and unrelenting. "Today, you humiliated my brother in front of everyone," Casey said coldly. "You turned this wedding into the laughingstock of the entire Salve City's elite. You should be thankful my parents left in disgust early on. If they were still here, you wouldn't have gotten off with just a slap." Deidre bit her lip, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth. Slowly, she turned her face back to Casey, her eyes red-rimmed but resolute. Tears welled up but refused to fall. "I didn't do anything to betray him," she said through clenched teeth. "Spare me the pitiful act," Casey sneered. "Who do you think you're fooling?" Her disgust was unmistakable, simmering just beneath the surface. She straightened, slipping her phone back into her pocket. With a final disdainful glance, she added, "You're just a shameless woman clinging to lies and excuses. Disgusting." Without another word, Casey turned on her heel and walked away. Chapter 4 The reporters had trailed after Micah's car for a good while, hoping to intercept him, but when it became clear that their efforts were futile, they shifted their attention. Like a tidal wave, they surged toward Deidre instead. Vincent Winsley, who had also rushed out, caught sight of Deidre slumped on the ground, her hair disheveled, her expression blank. A surge of fury erupted within him. "You've disgraced me completely!" he spat, his teeth clenched in rage. Without waiting for a response, he stormed over and yanked her up forcefully. Deidre stumbled as he dragged her toward the parking lot, his movements sharp and brimming with frustration. Like a discarded, soulless rag doll, Deidre let herself be shoved into the car. Her mind was elsewhere, caught in an unending loop of Micah's cold words and Casey's venomous taunts. A replacement. The phrase clung to her, refusing to loosen its grip. Deidre's lips curled into a silent, bitter smile. Of course. It all made sense now. No wonder Micah had believed those photos, no wonder he had so readily embraced such absurd accusations. Trust? There had never been any between them. How could there be trust when all along, he had seen her as someone else? To him, she was merely a shadow, an echo of his lost love. A stand-in needed no trust—only convenience. When she no longer suited his mood, he could cast her aside without hesitation, without remorse. After all, she was just a replacement. Nothing more. For two whole years, she had been ensnared in the illusion of Micah's tenderness, his feigned affection. Even until this very day, she had dared to dream of a future together, of growing old by his side. But now, the illusion was shattered. The truth lay bare, unrelenting in its cruelty. She was nothing but a substitute. And if she had paid closer attention, she might have seen it all along. The signs were there. The way Micah would often stare at her, lost in thought—as if seeing through her, seeing someone else entirely. The pain clawed at her chest, raw and relentless. Why? Why did Micah have to do this to her? Just because she happened to resemble his first love? Did that alone condemn her to this undeserved heartbreak, this torment? "You still have the audacity to cry after committing such shameless acts!" Her father's enraged scolding pierced her thoughts. Deidre didn't even have the strength to argue anymore. Exhaustion weighed down every fiber of her being. She closed her eyes, letting the tears fall silently. But behind her closed lids, she couldn't stop the image from resurfacing—Micah's cold, disdainful gaze, those eyes filled with nothing but contempt. Again and again, the memory replayed, refusing to fade. Her heart felt as though it were being torn apart, over and over, each tear exposing fresh wounds, each wound bleeding pain she couldn't contain. … The moment Deidre stepped into the house, pushed forward by Vincent, she stumbled through the doorway into the entryway. As soon as the door clicked shut, his palm came down hard across her face. It struck the same spot Casey had hit earlier—her left cheek—and the sharp sting of pain flared up once more, searing and numb all at once. Deidre's expression didn't even flicker. She had no tears left to shed; the journey home had wrung her dry. All that remained was the dull ache behind her eyes. She stood there like a wooden doll, her gaze hollow and detached, staring at Vincent without truly seeing him. "How dare you humiliate the Landon family like this? How dare you cheat on Micah!" he roared. There was no questioning, no attempt to understand—just an immediate verdict of guilt, a judgment passed without trial. This was her father, Vincent. He had always been like this. The rage that had been simmering within him on the way home boiled over entirely now, erupting with full force. He raised his hand again, his voice thunderous. "I'll beat you to death today. That way, the Landon family won't come after me for this disgrace!" Deidre didn't move. She didn't even flinch. She knew better than to try. It wouldn't make a difference. Another slap landed squarely on her cheek, hard and unrelenting. The pain was distant now, buried under layers of numbness. Her expression remained as lifeless as before. "Look at you! Always that dead, useless look!" Her passive indifference only fueled Vincent's anger further, like oil thrown onto an open flame. His veins bulged at his neck, his face twisted with fury. "Fine! I'll end your life right here!" He glanced around, his eyes landing on a shoehorn resting by the entryway. He grabbed it without hesitation and swung it at her. Blow after blow rained down on her, relentless and furious. The shoehorn struck her arms, leaving bright red welts on her pale skin, each mark stark and startling against its canvas. The door opened again, and Kiera Winsley, her stepmother, appeared. She took in the scene, her voice laced with feigned concern as she exclaimed, "What's going on here? Why are you hitting Deidre?" "Stay out of it!" Vincent snapped, his grip tightening on the shoehorn. "This disgraceful wretch deserves it. end her life would be doing us all a favor." "Now, now," Kiera replied, stepping between Vincent and Deidre, her tone calm yet firm. "She's still your daughter. You can't say things like that." Her words seemed protective, but her eyes betrayed her indifference. There wasn't the faintest glimmer of worry in them. Deidre's gaze drifted to the silhouette of Kiera standing in front of her, shielding her from further blows. For the first time in what felt like forever, her empty eyes focused again. Her voice, hoarse and strained, broke the silence. "Where's Valerie?" Kiera blinked, startled by the unexpected question. She hesitated for a moment before responding, "Your sister and brother took a different car. They'll be home soon." Deidre said nothing more. Without another word, she turned and walked toward the living room. "Look at her! Look at the way she acts!" Vincent fumed behind her, his rage still simmering. Kiera stepped closer to him, her voice soothing as she tried to calm him down. But even as she murmured words of comfort, her gaze followed Deidre, scrutinizing her retreating figure with a calculating glint in her eyes. Chapter 5 After a long string of coaxing and placating, Kiera finally managed to calm Vincent's seething anger to a simmer. She tugged at his arm, steering him towards their room to change out of the formal attire they'd worn for the wedding. As they reached the stairs, Kiera glanced back and saw Deidre sitting quietly on the living room sofa. Her gaze was fixed on the front door, unblinking, her expression unreadable but for the faint furrow in her brows. Kiera hesitated, then called out, "Deidre, go change into something else, won't you?" Deidre didn't move. It was as if her ears had turned deaf to the sound of her stepmother's voice. "That girl's just like her mother—a cursed woman through and through!" Vincent spat as he ascended the stairs. "What bad luck it's been to have a daughter like that!" Deidre's eyes flickered for a moment, a ripple disturbing their stillness. Her hands clenched tightly, nails digging into her palms. It wasn't long before Valerie and Johnny returned. The atmosphere in the house had barely settled when their chatter filled the space again. "What a disaster today turned out to be," Valerie muttered as she stepped inside, slipping off her shoes. She paid no attention to the figure rising slowly from the living room sofa. "I told you from the beginning—this match was doomed from the start. Why force it? Marrying into wealth, what a joke..." Johnny trailed behind her, nodding absentmindedly as she spoke. But before she could take another step, she found herself face-to-face with Deidre. Startled, Valerie took a step back, her eyes scanning the figure before her. Deidre stood there in her wedding dress—filthy, tattered, with her hair in disarray. The left side of her pale face was swollen. For a brief moment, Valerie froze, as though she'd seen a ghost. Then her expression twisted into irritation. "What are you doing, standing there looking like that? Trying to scare someone to death?" Deidre's voice was calm, so calm it was unnerving. "It was you, wasn't it? On your eighteenth birthday, you forced me to drink, sent me to that hotel. And the pictures on the wedding screen—those were your doing too." The tone carried no inflection, just a straightforward certainty. It wasn't a question. It was a fact laid bare. Valerie faltered, her bravado wavering under Deidre's steady gaze. "You… I…" Her voice stumbled, and her eyes darted away, the guilt she tried to suppress bubbling to the surface. Before she could stammer out a denial, Deidre's hand moved swiftly. The slap landed on Valerie's cheek. Johnny snapped to attention, rushing forward to push Deidre away. "Don't hit my sister!" Johnny shouted, his fourteen-year-old frame trembling with indignation. The shove was forceful, and Deidre stumbled back several steps before regaining her balance. Valerie, clutching her cheek, finally processed what had happened. Her shock quickly morphed into rage. "Even Dad has never hit me! How dare you?!" she shrieked, rushing toward Deidre with hands outstretched, aiming for her face. But Deidre caught her by the wrist, her grip unyielding. Another slap followed, sharp and deliberate. Her voice, low and icy, cut through the chaos. "You deserve it." "You… you hit me again?!" Valerie's voice cracked into a wail. But before she could retaliate, Deidre's hand moved for the third time, another slap echoing in the room. "Stop hitting Valerie, you useless freak!" Johnny yelled. He rushed over, intending to help his older sister. But when his eyes met Deidre's gaze, he froze. As a fourteen-year-old boy who had been pampered his whole life, he had never seen anyone with such a murderous look in their eyes. Terrified, he hesitated. "Stop it this instant!" Kiera's voice rang out as she descended the stairs, her heels clacking rapidly against the steps. Her sharp eyes took in the scene—her daughter red-faced and wailing, Deidre standing unmoved, cold as stone. "How dare you hit your sister? Have you lost your mind?" Vincent wasn't far behind, his fury reignited at the sight of his precious daughter's reddened cheeks. He stormed down the stairs, his voice shaking with anger. "Hitting your sister like this? I'll end you life myself!" Deidre watched them all—the righteous fury on her father's face, the manufactured concern in her stepmother's eyes, and the unbridled hatred radiating from Valerie. Her chest tightened, the ache so deep it numbed her. Valerie broke through the cacophony with a scream, her voice shrill with rage. "Yes! I did it! I made you drunk that night and sent you to that hotel! And those photos on the screen—I had those taken! You think you deserve to marry into wealth? You're nothing! A crow pretending to be a phoenix—know your place!" Chapter 6 Vincent had been spewing curses at Deidre just moments ago, but upon hearing Valerie's confession, his lips pressed into a rare, tight line. He said nothing. Deidre let out a derisive laugh, her gaze shifting from Valerie to settle on her father. "You heard her, didn't you? You know now who orchestrated today's wedding fiasco. Weren't you so eager to beat me to death earlier? Why aren't you laying a hand on Valerie now?" Vincent remained still, his brows furrowing deeper as he finally spoke. "She's your sister. Watch your tone." "And when she humiliated me in front of an entire banquet hall, did she ever stop to think that I was her sister?" Deidre's voice cracked as she shouted, her anger no longer contained. "She's your daughter. Am I not your daughter, too?" "You're the older one. You should let her have her way," Vincent said, as if his words were carved in stone. "Yes, that's always your answer. Whenever there's a conflict between me and Valerie, you tell me I'm the older one, so I have to give in to her," Deidre said quietly now, her tone steeped in irony. She stood a few steps away, staring at the four people before her, her eyes cold, filled with disdain. Her mother had passed away before she was old enough to form memories. Not long after, Vincent had remarried, bringing Kiera into their home. With her came Valerie and Johnny. In the suffocating silence that followed, Deidre let out a bitter laugh. "I'm just an outsider, aren't I? You're the real family here." Her words pierced through the thin veneer of harmony that had barely held their household together. It shattered like glass. "What kind of look is that? Don't forget, I'm your father!" Vincent barked, enraged by the unmasked contempt in Deidre's eyes. "Following the passing of your mother, you ate my food, wore the clothes I bought. Did you call yourself an outsider then? Don't think earning a scholarship every year makes you someone special. If you're so capable, get out of this house right now and see how far you get without my support! Starve for all I care—just don't come crawling back!" Kiera's eyes gleamed at his words, though her tone remained measured, even gentle. "Why say such harsh things? Deidre is only twenty, and she's still in university. You can't talk to a child like that." Turning to Deidre, she added with a hypocritical kindness, "Deidre, don't take your father's words to heart. Apologize and make peace." "Fine," Deidre replied curtly. Her compliance startled Kiera, who hesitated, unsure what to make of it. This girl had never shown her any respect before, and now, all of a sudden, she was so obedient? The thought didn't sit well. If Deidre were truly driven out of the house, Kiera would no longer have to keep up the facade of a benevolent stepmother. Yet, despite herself, she felt unsettled, as if she had just swallowed a fly. Vincent was equally taken aback by his daughter's uncharacteristic acquiescence. He paused, his expression softening slightly. Clearing his throat, he assumed a more commanding tone. "The matter with the photos at the wedding—Valerie is still young and made a mistake. You've already hit her. Let's put it behind us. If you've done nothing to wrong the Landon family, find a time to clear things up and reschedule the wedding." Running a construction materials company, Vincent's business had been thriving, especially with the Landon family connection. A marriage alliance with the Landons would secure even greater opportunities. Naturally, he hoped Deidre would still marry into that family. The thought of returning the Landon family's generous bride price gnawed at him. That money alone had already covered the cost of raising Deidre for twenty years, and then some. It could ever cover her living costs for another forty years. The idea of losing it was unbearable. "You were engaged to Micah a year ago," he continued, his voice laced with warning. "You've been a part of the Landon family ever since. If they decide they don't want you after this mess, don't think anyone else will have you." "Reschedule the wedding?" Deidre repeated, as though the suggestion was the most absurd thing she'd ever heard. She began to laugh—a deep, bitter laugh that only grew louder, carrying with it a sadness so profound it filled the room. This was her father. A man so blinded by favoritism, he had lost all sense of reason. "What are you laughing at?" Vincent snapped, his brows knitting together tightly. Chapter 7 "I'd rather never get married in this lifetime than marry Micah. Never!" Deidre stopped laughing, her face freezing over, her voice sharp: "I think you've misunderstood something. When I said 'fine,' I meant I'll leave this house, and you can all go ahead and live your happy little lives." Since middle school, Deidre had been a boarding student, and the bond between her and her father, Vincent, had always been tenuous. The estrangement between them was as thin as the paper separating two worlds. In a blended family, when there are children from previous marriages, someone always ends up hurt. Vincent's fatherly love had been doled out almost entirely to his other children, Valerie and Johnny, leaving only the scraps for her. It was like charity, barely a gesture. Now, standing on the edge of her limits, she had had enough. Absolutely enough. "Fine! Fine then!" Vincent, enraged, his face contorted, pointed toward the door and bellowed, "I'll cut ties with you today! Get out! Get out of this house—now!" "Don't worry, I'm leaving." The deepest sorrow wasn't in the confrontation itself but in the stillness that followed it. Deidre had imagined this moment countless times, but now that it was happening, she felt a strange tranquility—almost a sense of release. Like her presence in this house had always been superfluous, an eyesore. She should have left long ago. Calmly, Deidre turned and went upstairs to her room to pack her things. Kiera, thrilled on the inside, masked her joy with an expression of feigned concern and helplessness. She muttered, "Don't be so upset. Why argue with a twenty-year-old? I'll go check on her." When Valerie heard Deidre's words, the sting of the slap on her face lightened. A wicked smile spread across her face, and sweetly, she said, "Dad, you still have me. I'll be a good daughter from now on." Vincent had been angry with Valerie earlier, but seeing her with that slap mark on her face, now with her pitiful, submissive expression, all the anger drained away. His tone softened as he looked at her, a far cry from the venomous words he had thrown at Deidre. He spoke gently, as a father would to a daughter he cherished, his voice full of indulgence. "Yes, having you is enough, my dear." Johnny watched Deidre walk up the stairs, his face contorted with disdain and contempt. This burden had been long overdue to leave. Upstairs, Deidre entered her room, changed out of the wedding dress, and began packing her suitcase. She heard footsteps stop at the door. Turning, she saw Kiera leaning against the doorframe, a smile plastered on her face. It was clear to Deidre that Kiera's smile was full of unmasked triumph, as if her goal had been achieved. "You don't need to stand there. Don't worry, I won't take anything valuable." Kiera chuckled lightly. "What valuable things could you even have in this room? Compared to Valerie's, yours is barely furnished. Take whatever you want—it's all just the last little bit of charity our family has given you." Deidre eyed Kiera for a moment, then silently walked past her and slammed the door shut. Kiera raised an eyebrow, unfazed by the gesture. Her mood was too good to argue with the brat now. She turned, adopting a concerned expression, and went downstairs. … Inside the room, Deidre slid down to the floor, leaning against the door, her eyes closed, her face etched with sorrow. From this moment on, she would be alone. She was only twenty, but why did it feel as though she had already lived an entire life? She didn't want to stay in Salve City anymore. She needed to leave, to disappear far away. But now, she had no money. Where could she go? Would she ask Vincent for money? She had to keep living, to prove to everyone who had mocked her that one day, she would slap their faces with her achievements. But what other choice did she have? How could she escape this place, this city, if not through death? Her eyes still closed, Deidre's mind scrambled through every possible future, searching for some shred of hope. Then, suddenly, a thought flashed through her mind. She opened her eyes, her gaze trembling slightly. Perhaps she still had one chance left. She stood up, found her phone, and dialed her mentor's number. After a few beeps, the call was answered, and her mentor's voice, warm with a smile, came through the receiver. "Deidre?" "It's me, Professor." Deidre's voice was hoarse. "Congratulations on your wedding today. If I hadn't been abroad for an academic exchange this week, I would have definitely come to your wedding." Deidre's throat tightened, her nose burning. Her voice cracked as she responded, "Professor, I… I want to ask you something." "Go ahead." Deidre took a deep breath, summoning all the strength she had left before speaking, "Is it… possible for me to reclaim my study-abroad spot?" There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by her mentor's surprised voice. "Didn't you say you were planning to stay in Salve City after marriage? What's changed? Has your husband agreed to it?" The wedding had been canceled. She didn't have a husband. Deidre barely managed a smile, her lips twitching silently, before speaking as calmly as she could. "No… I just think the opportunity to study abroad with a full scholarship is too rare." "Yes, it is. There are only three spots in the whole school, and you were the top choice. You know, for your field—finance—the offers from top international universities are extremely precious. This means you could stay in a foreign country and work there after graduation." Deidre opened her mouth but couldn't find the words. What was there to say? She had given up a brilliant future for a man she had believed was her one true love, only to end up as a fool, tossed aside in a fleeting illusion. "Deidre?" Her mentor's voice cut through the silence, noticing the quiet on the other end. "Professor, is there still a chance?" "Well, that's hard to say. The spot you gave up has already been filled by someone else." Deidre bit her lip, and the sharp pain in her mouth made her bite down harder, blood filling her mouth. She gripped the phone tightly, her voice laced with desperation. "Really... no chance at all?" Chapter 8 It seemed that the professor had sensed the unease in Deidre's voice. After a moment, the warm, familiar tone of her mentor returned over the phone. "There could still be a chance. Let me make a call and try to secure it for you." Deidre had always been a top student. Even though she hadn't finished high school, she had been exempted from exams and directly enrolled in the prestigious university in Salve City, completing both her undergraduate and master's degrees in one continuous stretch. Her mentor, who had always kept a close eye on such promising talent, was not one to let someone like Deidre miss out on such an opportunity. "Thank you. I'll wait for your call," Deidre said, her fingers tightening around the phone, turning pale as she bit down hard on her lower lip. Her heart pounded, the anxiety spreading like fire. She waited for an answer. Each second dragged on painfully, like she was being fried alive in a pan. She gripped her phone, staring at the screen, willing it to bring some resolution. Finally, the screen lit up. It was a call from her mentor. With a nervous breath, Deidre answered. "Good news," came the professor's voice. "A spot's available, and it's yours. Deidre, cherish this opportunity. Remember, no matter what others do, your future is yours to hold in your hands. That's the safest bet." Tears welled up in Deidre's eyes, and she started to cry, her joy so overwhelming that it spilled out of her like a river. She bit her lip, trying to control her shaking voice, and spoke each word slowly and deliberately. "Thank you... Thank you, Professor." "Alright, we'll talk later. I've got a lecture to begin." The screen darkened as the call ended, and Deidre, eyes still brimming with tears, looked out the window. Through her blurred vision, she could make out the faint blue sky, the soft white clouds. The vast expanse of the heavens stretched out before her. There was a way after all. The road had not been completely closed off. … Time passed swiftly. Seven years slipped by unnoticed. In Zemenia City, a bustling commercial hub neighboring Salve City, the evening descended, and the lights flickered on in their dazzling array. In the heart of this prime real estate stood the prestigious Wilton Grand Hotel, a symbol of high society, where the city's elite gathered for their business soirées. Outside the hotel, a barrier of security personnel kept the press at bay, forcing the journalists to crane their necks, helplessly watching the spectacle from a distance. This particular business banquet, however, was by invitation only. Among the luxury cars parked outside, one stood out above the rest: a limited-edition car, the kind that only the ultra-wealthy could afford. Its gleaming body spun gracefully before coming to a halt right in front of the hotel, catching the attention of all those gathered. The door to the driver's side opened, and the man who emerged was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, the kind that made his figure appear long and sharp. He pushed up his rimless glasses, and his finely chiseled face caught the light, his lips curving into the faintest of smiles. His eyes shimmered behind the lenses, and the sight instantly drew gasps of admiration from the women in the crowd. "That's Micah Landon from the Landon Group in Salve City, isn't it?" "He's even more handsome and refined in person than in his photos!" Micah glanced around, his gaze cool and detached, masking a momentary flicker of impatience. A smile, barely perceptible, touched his lips as he adjusted the buttons of his suit jacket, walking swiftly around the car to open the door to the passenger side. A slender, pale hand emerged from the car, resting lightly on Micah's arm as a woman gracefully stepped out. Her custom-made gown, an extravagant piece from this season's collection, hugged her slender form. She smiled as she looked up, her face radiant with the kind of poise that made everyone around her hold their breath. The man was elegant, the woman, stunning. They were the perfect picture of grace and beauty, drawing all eyes. "Look! A limited-edition extended Luxury car! My goodness!" The crowd's attention quickly shifted from Micah and the woman beside him to the new arrival. Micah, too, turned his gaze in response to the sound. Soon, a tall, imposing figure emerged from the luxury car. As he looked closer, Micah recognized the man immediately—Connor Halls, the young heir to the Halls family from a country called Milwarke. But just as quickly, Micah's gaze turned to one of astonishment. Standing by the car, the distinguished and handsome man offered a gentlemanly smile, bending slightly as he extended his hand. From the extended luxury car, a graceful woman emerged. Her delicate arm raised, her soft hand resting in Connor's as she descended. Her gown, a hand-crafted European design, clung to her figure, accentuating every curve, while the blue fabric highlighted her fair skin. The simple pearl necklace around her neck caught the light, and Micah—being an expert in jewelry design—immediately recognized it: a rare, limited-edition piece by renowned European designer Laire, a treasure impossible to acquire. But all Micah could feel was shock, as the woman's appearance completely stole his attention. How could it be her? A ripple of whispers spread through the crowd as people wondered about the identity of this poised and beautiful woman. Micah's gaze finally fixed on her face, her flawless features, the delicate oval of her face framed by perfect makeup.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17042&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	374	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	beokn.com	IMAGE		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17042&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474585658_1972430866585430_9158775107853323053_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=QPk4Kh6fJMgQ7kNvgFyRCFq&_nc_oc=Adht51tWjL_LYSVkeCOI5PkS4CI0l2MtsGQvYs4SPGR-bUFqaR2j4_F2RQW5TF4avP2dNAhVXOk8Cf3nGttFqfFJ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ASxo9GXJdYOM1ToUQTf-uln&oh=00_AYDfAVm72ttBcFC3k93Dbap-KBCo_YpU24pfhKwZOWZ0SA&oe=67CBA6F2	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,748,827	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2748468}'	No	2025-03-03 09:54	active	2763	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	"Where is she?" I hear the Beta scream. I groan and rise to my feet, grabbing the cleaning basket before heading over. The moment Beta Kyle sees me, he strides towards me and his hand slices against my cheek. I don't make a sound. Years of experience has taught me to keep my mouth shut at all times. "Alpha Trey and I are expecting company and you still have not cleaned the office." Beta Kyle spits at me. I nod my head and my hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If only I could find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make my day. But I didn't need another week locked up with no food. My stomach already hurt enough. "We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Don't you understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!" I don't answer, It's a trap, a ploy to provoke me into saying something that would justify punishment. I keep my eyes lowered, avoiding his gaze. Alpha Dane, I had only ever heard rumours about him. He was a ruthless man, a Wolf feared by others. He didn't mess around and he had the largest pack. "He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!" We had never been attacked and we had never attacked anyone, so why did we need another pack to help us? He grabs my shoulders, his nails digging into my skin as he turns me around and kicks me into the office. "Useless Wolf." He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean against it, observing the already clean office. It looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing my eyes, I slide down to the floor. I hated this house. I thought that when I turned eighteen, I could finally escape, but four years later, here I still am, a slave in my own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for my brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While my ex mate, Beta Kyle waltzes around reminding me of how worthless I am. Someone clears their throat and I freeze, I thought I was alone. Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair, just around the corner. A foot propped up on his knee as he nurses a glass of alcohol. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don't quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. "Is this the way you greet all Alphas?" His deep voice rumbles through the room, there was an edge of amusement to his tone. "I'm sorry." I whisper, getting to my feet. "I...I thought I was alone." I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. "Come forward." He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey wil kill me. I step around the corner, doing as I'm told, allowing him to see me properly. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. "You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?" I nod, though I couldn't tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. "I would prefer it if you spoke to me." He growls, "I'm not in the mood to play games." "Yes." I whisper. I couldn't help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? "Why do you smell strange? And how is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me." "I..." I hated the question. "You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. It's rude to not look at them. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?" His deep voice sends a shiver through me. Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them, there was no way I was making eye contact."My Wolf abilities were bound," I mutter. Twice, I wanted to add. Twice my abilities were bound. But he probably wasn't interested in that part. He leans forward, I could feel him staring at me, "Why would someone do that?" If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. "It was a punishment." I whisper. It wasn't far from the entire truth. There's a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn't tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me "Neah, what are you doing in my office?" He turns to the crimson eyed man. "I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it's him. My brother spins around, hand poised to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He is taller than my brother, more muscly too. "Neah," My name rolls off of his tongue, "was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested." What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. "Go and get Beta Kyle." Alpha Trey seethes. "Tell him our guest is here." I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. "Beta Kyle," I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. "Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you." He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. "You're lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't see sunlight for a few days." Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn't speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn't last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. "Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating." I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. "Neah is your sister, correct?" Alpha Dane questions my brother. "She is." Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. "Why do you treat her like trash?" Straight to the point, my brother wouldn't like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. "Neah was responsible for our parents' death." Alpha Trey spits I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Responsible how?" Alpha Dane's voice rumbles through me. He was definitely angry. "She served them Wolfsbane." Don't make a sound. Don't make a sound. I knew Alpha Dane was studying me. They all did, no one could ever quite believe how someone could do something so disgusting as poisoning their own parents. I stood there, with my head hanging low, wishing for the ground to open up and suck me in. There are movements around me. He was standing directly in front of me. With a rough finger he tilts my face up towards his, forcing me to look at him. "You poisoned your parents?" "I was six." I splutter. "I just made them lemonade." My voice comes out all squeaky as I try to defend myself. I could barely remember my parents, but I could remember all the guilt I had been made to feel since that day. His crimson eyes flash to my brothers. "Hardly seems fair to blame a six year old." "A six year old should know the difference between plants." Alpha Trey snaps "Sounds to me like she was set up." Alpha Dane shrugs his shoulders, letting go of me. "You weren't there, Alpha Dane." My brother muttered through gritted teeth as his eyes narrowed to slits. "I didn't ask you here to talk about my slave!" Alpha Dane grabs his leather jacket from the chair. Unlike other Alpha's he seemed to dress more casually. A simple black tee and jeans covered his huge frame. And unlike other Alpha's, his arms are bare of tattoos, not a single bit of ink poked out anywhere. "You're right and now I have a few things to mull over." "I thought we agreed." My brother exclaims "Nothing has been signed. Now I will show myself out." The moment he is out of the office, both my brother and Beta Kyle round on me. "What the heck did you say to him?" My brother demands, slamming a hand into my stomach. "N...nothing. Well, he just asked me why I smelled funny." "Did you tell him?" Beta Kyle demands. He was practically spitting in my face. I hated him. I hated him so much that I had vowed to one day get my revenge and rip his stomach out through his mouth. "WELL?" My brother yells when I don't immediately respond and smacks me across the side of the head. My head involuntarily moves up and down. "But I didn't say it was you." I tried to sound strong and confident but it just comes out as a whisper. My brother's hand locks into my black hair as he yanks my head back, sending a shooting pain through my skull. "If you have ruined this, you won't see daylight again." He drags me by my hair from the office and down the hallway towards the basement door. "Please…." I beg. "He was an Alpha…I… I had to answer him." My cheeks burn with my tears as he flings the door open. On the other side of the door is Alpha Dane. He is leaning against the wall with his arms folded, staring out at us. My brother's hand falls from my hair, relieving the pressure on the back of my skull... "Alpha Dane, I thought you had left." Alpha Trey murmurs angrily. "I said I would show myself out. I thought I had found the door, but instead I find a basement, riddled in your sister's strange scent. Is this how you treat your family?" "As I said," my brother holds his ground, "She is responsible for the death of my parents, so yes, this is what she deserves." "You should keep your nose out of other packs' business!" Beta Kyle adds. Alpha Dane laughs. "If I agree to this deal, everything about your business becomes my business. So tell me, what would your punishment be for her? No food, locked away for a week, beatings?" Both Alpha Trey and Beta Kyle hold their tongues. There was no reason for him to defend me and yet he was. I was a nobody, no one special. Just who everyone called a traitor. Only instead of being given a death sentence, my brother had decided to make me spend my life suffering. I see those crimson eyes land on my swollen face. "I have a proposition for you, Alpha Trey." Alpha Dane speaks up again. "We have already agreed on terms." "Well, I'm adding one. And if you don't agree, you will not get my help. Instead, you will become my enemy. And we both know, you don't want that." "I take it that your new terms have something to do with her?" Alpha Trey mutters through clenched teeth. "You would be correct. Let me take her away to my pack and then you, Trey will have a deal." Me? Why would he want me? As my brother and his Beta discuss me, Alpha Dane is still studying me. His look made me nervous. What could someone like him possibly want with me? "Deal." Alpha Trey sticks out his hand for Alpha Dane to shake. He doesn't take it, instead his crimson eyes shift from me to my brother. "I will have paperwork drawn up and will return tomorrow." He reaches a hand out and cups my face, "Ensure you have everything packed." He drags his thumb across my bottom lip and strides to the opposite end of the hallway and straight to the front door. He knew exactly where the front door was, so what was he up to? He pauses at the door. "If I find out any one of you has laid a hand on her. The contract will be the last thing you need to worry about." He struts out, slamming the door behind him. After Dane leaves, my brother grabs me by the collar. "You think you're going to have a good life if you follow Alpha Dane out of here? Don't be naive!" He continues in a vicious voice. "He's the coldest man in the world, he's killed nine of his mates, I'm waiting to see what happens to you!"	LEARN_MORE	https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&	New world publications	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	3,809	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	wwwedb.com	VIDEO	At six years old, I accidentally killed my parents. For the punishment I, an alpha female, became a slave in my own house.. My wolf's abilities were bounded, twice—a crippling blow that left me vulnerable. As if I were nothing more than property, my brother sold me to a ruthless alpha as part of some clan contract. The rumour I've heard about him that nine fiancee has been killed by him. Then, I discovered that this ruthless alpha, the one who now owned me, was my mate ...	https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475751502_557883053890301_1211087922233274649_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=uCmQoBF7BewQ7kNvgFQiM9p&_nc_oc=Adi6SX4gkWYP7K0WLJs9UfZBaqM-iah25VuORS8-xDd5o-UAeBbXju2qZbabymW90LMJMj6nJ4ICefsfWxpdNx3-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AsNlrya_kTOoPUr5DZhjxLq&oh=00_AYDiLx2mKuui7yaA59hDUPDtAHQVW3t6AS_5H8XLs2ZjRA&oe=67CB8FD9	PERSON_PROFILE	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,748,712	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 09:54	active	2763	Read next chapter	To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blde. "You're the one who climbed into my bd back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi*ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his bdmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my bd, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in bd. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her chst. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red mrk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my bd too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You bch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame graning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e	Popular romance stories	https://www.facebook.com/100083149047490/	17,999	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	IMAGE		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0130-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=673595984708315&exdata=E7C53BDECE0DE88BEFF6AECCDDE998B49970CF896E26C06E	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475641065_1159619622401463_2534157415602588088_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=sZKdpAQIzjIQ7kNvgH0myB-&_nc_oc=AdharS4UgvvKA-F6-QV5lFU71vtnnK7-50D8uKgPU8qxtBGvq6VRI_pNZuP60dPHKbNwBM_mCFzY1KgRSxm86-Zo&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Ab9VrFG88kzrNUwSmpnRSnt&oh=00_AYBzIZktGUtraSS8eUQpT3ua1_P9pLu03MJWE8ABfC8faA&oe=67CBBBD6	PERSON_PROFILE	Popular romance stories	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,748,143	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2748134}'	Yes	2025-03-03 09:54	active	2763	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	"Wow…My best friend is carrying my husband’s child. " Lulu was in disbelief. "The two closest people in my life… " "Please leave, I'll meet you at home and we can discuss this further. You’re barren, but Lily is with my first child, I don't want you to stress Lily and our baby." Alex shunned her. Lulu had no choice but to turn around. She was here to share her IVF conception news, but now she chose to stay quiet. "I can't believe I am having a child with this devil who I mean nothing to, I'm not going to keep a child with this loser!" She cried as she got into the taxi. She forgot all about her dreams and was fueled by anger. "How can Alex repay me this way?" She told the taxi driver her destination and, in a few minutes, her phone rang. Sniffing, she wiped her tears, it was her doctor from the hospital. "Mrs. Moore, there has been a terrible mistake!" She frowned, "Please call me Miss Bridge from now and, what do you mean by the mistake?" "We just found out that the sample that was mixed with your egg does not belong to your husband." "What?!" She was confused. “Before insemination, the nurse in charge of your IVF had found out that your husband had no living tadpoles, your reproductive misfortune was from your husband.” “What?!” Lulu threw her hands over her mouth in astonishment, which meant there was no way Lily was actually carrying Alex's child. She was lying to him! "Wait, so how come my conception was successful?" "That's the problem, one of our hospital's biggest clients was also scheduled for an insemination on that same day, and the samples were accidentally swapped." "Wait, so what you're saying is... I'm carrying someone else's child?" "Not just anyone, David Carlson's child." "Am I supposed to know who that is?" "He's the world's most famous artist, how haven't you heard of him?"	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16566&u	Happyday	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	1,663	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	redtgb.com	VIDEO		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16566&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470220184_1222089068855954_5837136570385148620_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bJxWEvNVOrMQ7kNvgH5WwVr&_nc_oc=AdiEij9-QswZW8StZIC1kCn9k8Z_DiIx9GCZGO3CQMUTdHinekMJ4bUCb20QRZ_WfKCDVOf9vZoqeDh4hn4afK8_&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AvLksZHNLbtzlmf_Fty0FQF&oh=00_AYBcAifY9DlYojlZR7RAV4KCqHJq2EyMf0ss23Mo6CBppg&oe=67CBA75B	PERSON_PROFILE	Happyday	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,748,981	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 09:54	active	2763	Read next chapter	An accident led her to marry the man she secretly loved. When he woke from his coma, he used her as a blood supply for his first love, even sending her to prison on false accusations, keeping her from seeing her grandmother one last time. Heartbroken, she demanded a divorce. ===== "It's been ages since we've had a moment like this..." Shane Brooks' lps brushed lightly against Yvonne Burton's ear. "Shane, I need to go to the hospital now..." Yvonne turned her head away, avoiding the kis Shane tried to steal. "Just this once!" Shane insisted. Time seemed to stretch endlessly. It wasn't until Yvonne felt the world around her spinning, faintness threatening to take over, that Shane finally let her go. "Did I hurt you?" His voice, rich and deep, carried a blend of concern and teasing. "How about I make it up to you with the latest designer bag?" Yvonne's eyelids fluttered open, her gaze locking onto him. The man before her was breathtakingly handsome, with features so refined they could have been sculpted by an artist. His usual cool and distant demeanor was still there, though now tinged with a faint, lingering pasion--proof of their recent intimacy. After three years of marriage, Yvonne had come to recognize this look. It was his tell, a sign that he was satisfied. That was why he was being so generous to her. Yvonne's lips curved into a bitter smile. "Did you forget? I haven't completed my sentence." "Then you can use the bag when you're out," Shane replied casually as if discussing the weather. Yvonne's chest tightened painfully. Shane had said it so nonchalantly, as though serving time was just a mundane inconvenience. "You will be released from prison soon, right?" His fingers trailed along her cheek with practiced ease. "I told you before, one year would fly by in the blink of an eye." Yvonne swallowed the lump in her throat, her hand clutching his as desperation seeped into her voice. "The hospital called me... They said my grandmother wasn't doing well. Could you come with me to the hospital to visit her?" Since she was still serving her sentence, she couldn't leave here freely. But she had earned a day of temporary release due to her good behavior in prison. Initially, her plan had been to go straight to the hospital. Yet, she had hesitated, worried her frail grandmother, Maggie Thomas, might be unsettled by her disheveled appearance. Returning home to freshen up had seemed like the right choice, but unexpectedly, she had run into Shane at home, who had just gotten back from a business trip overseas. She had really wanted to rush to the hospital, yet Shane had stopped her. He had been adamant, demanding his needs be met first, leaving her spending the entire morning here. Still, she thought, maybe this was good. If Shane accompanied her to the hospital, it would make her grandmother happy. But the next second, Shane pulled his hand away. Yvonne's heart sank like a stone tossed into deep water. "I've got something to do this afternoon. You can go on your own." Shane's words came out without hesitation. Standing up, he retrieved a card from the bedside drawer and held it out. "Use this to buy something nice for your grandmother." This wasn't unexpected for Yvonne--she had seen this play out before. Shane's preferred method of problem-solving always involved money. But she knew Maggie didn't need fancy gifts. What Maggie needed, what she longed for, was to see Shane and her being happy together as a family. Shane showered, got dressed, and left without so much as a goodbye. Yvonne rose slowly. She then busied herself with packing some homemade food to bring to the hospital--something Maggie would appreciate more than any store-bought gift. When she entered Maggie's hospital room, the sight before her made her bld run cold. The bag with the food slipped from her fingers, hitting the floor as she cried out, "Grandma!" Though Maggie had endured numerous hospital stays throughout her illness, she had never needed to use a ventilator. This really shocked Yvonne. Yvonne rushed to Maggie's bedside, her voice quavering with worry. "Grandma, I'm here! Open your eyes and look at me, Grandma!" Maggie's weathered eyelids fluttered open, a dim spark of recognition lighting her aged eyes. "Yvonne, you're here..." "Grandma, what happened?" Yvonne's words tumbled out in a panic. "The nurse said you were just feeling a bit unwell and missed me. Why does your condition look so severe?" "I asked the nurse not to worry you too much. Yvonne, I think I don't have much time left," Maggie replied. "No! That's not true!" Yvonne's trembling hand flew to Maggie's face. She then assessed Maggie's condition. Soon, her fears were confirmed--Maggie indeed had not much time left. Tears carved burning paths down Yvonne's cheeks as sadness threatened to tear her heart asunder. "Yvonne, life and death walk hand in hand. Don't cry." Maggie's papery fingers brushed Yvonne's wet cheek. "Having such a great granddaughter, I am satisfied with my life. I am just concerned about how you will live your life after I am gone." "Grandma, please stay with me!" Yvonne hastily scrubbed away her tears, forcing brightness into her voice. "I'll be out of prison in a month. Then I'll never leave your side. Remember how you longed to return to our hometown? Once you recover, we'll go back together." "That would be lovely." Maggie's gaze held infinite tenderness. "Bring Shane along, too." Though her heart knew otherwise, Yvonne nodded fervently. "Of course. Shane wanted to be here today, but urgent business matters demanded his attention." "Work always comes first." Maggie withdrew a half-moon pendant from beneath her pilow, pressing it into Yvonne's palm. The pendant was made of high-quality jade and was carved with a bird. "Yvonne, keep this safe. It's your--" The door's sudden opening cut short Maggie's words. Shane's commanding presence filled the doorway, his dark suit emphasizing his statuesque frame. He looked elegant with every move. Joy illuminated Yvonne's tear-stained face. "Grandma, look! Shane came to see you!" But as Shane approached, there was something amiss about his expression. His customary mask of cool detachment had cracked; he looked uncharacteristically anxious and worried. "Yvonne, Jayde needs an immediate bld transfusion." The words stabbed through Yvonne's momentary happiness. She had thought Shane was looking worried because of her grandmother, but it turned out he was just concerned for Jayde Davis. Of course. In Shane's world, no one could eclipse his childhood sweetheart, his eternal flame, Jayde. All others paled in comparison. Yvonne fought to suppress the familiar ache in her chest. "My grandmother lies here, critically ill. I must stay by her side. Can't Jayde use bld bank supplies?" she said. "The rare bld type isn't available here, and the nearest bank is an hour away. Jayde can't wait that long." Shane's fingers closed around Yvonne's wrist like steel bands. "Yvonne, her life hangs in the balance. You need to come with me now." "I won't leave my grandmother! Let go of me!" Yvonne's struggles proved futile against Shane's strength. "Yvonne..." Maggie's frail voice called out, her hand reaching toward her granddaughter. "I never told you about your parents. The truth is, you..." "Grandma!" Yvonne cried out, but Shane had already dragged her out of the room before she could hear the rest of her grandmother's words. Though protocol limited bld donations to 400 milliliters, Shane demanded double that amount from Yvonne. This left Yvonne ghost-white and trembling after the donation. Despite her weakness, she forced herself upright, using the wall for support as she stumbled back to Maggie's hospital room. The sight that greeted her sent her world spinning--the silent ventilator, Maggie's still form covered by a white cloth... Yvonne's legs betrayed her, sending her collapsing to the floor. Grief had stolen even her tears. She crawled forward on trembling limbs until she reached the bedside. "No... Grandma... Don't leave me..." She clutched Maggie's lifeless hand, drowning in waves of desolation. "My condolences, Yvonne." Shane's deep voice cut through her anguish with detachment. "Jayde is stable now. Thank you for your help... By the way, the prison requires your immediate return." Chapter 2 Let's Get A Divorce Yvonne's chest constricted with unbearable pain as she desperately grasped Shane's leg. "Shane, please," she said through trembling lips, "help me appeal to the prison authorities. My grandmother has passed away, and I need to handle her funeral arrangements. I can't go back now." Shane's features hardened into a disapproving frown. "Prison regulations aren't something you can simply circumvent with money. Your grief is understandable, but you need to think rationally before you speak." "Think rationally?" Yvonne gazed up at him, her voice quavering with emotion. "For eleven months, I've been imprisoned, and four times you've arranged my temporary release to donate bld for Jayde--all by using your financial influence. Why is this time different?" "The circumstances aren't comparable," Shane replied coldly. "How can you say that?" Raw anguish seeped through Yvonne's voice as she continued her plea. "I understand Jayde holds the highest place in your heart, but my grandmother just passed away. She raised me, yet I couldn't be there in her final moments. I must accompany her on this last journey--I can't bear the thought of her spirit departing alone. Shane, I am begging you; just do this one thing for me." "You still have an uncle, don't you? I'll help and ensure your grandmother receives an honorable funeral," Shane said. "That's not what this is about." Tears coursed down Yvonne's cheeks unchecked. "My grandmother is already gone. A lavish funeral means nothing now. I just want to bid her farewell in person. If you grant me this, I swear I'll donate bld for Jayde whenever necessary." Shane's gaze turned glacial as he looked down at her. "Are you treating bl*d donation as some kind of bargaining tool? This is your obligation to Jayde. If not for your actions, she wouldn't be confined to a wheelchair." Yvonne squeezed her eyes shut. She could feel Shane's words piercing her heart. Jayde's incident had happened a year ago. She had tumbled down the stairs, suffering spinal injuries that had left her paralyzed below the waist. She had accused Yvonne of pushing her down the stairs. The Brooks family unanimously condemned Yvonne. Without surveillance footage or witnesses to clear her name, Yvonne stood defenseless against the accusations. Shane, her husband, had delivered the ultimatum: "Yvonne, Jayde's suffering is immeasurable. Legal consequences are necessary considering what you have done to her. Such an assault typically carries three to ten years, but Jayde's compasion moves her to request only one." The irony of it all had left Yvonne feeling bitter. She had initially refused to go to prison, demanding police intervention. But Jayde had produced damning evidence--a video showing Yvonne pushing her down the stairs. The collective revulsion in the Brooks family members' eyes as they watched that video still haunted Yvonne. It was as if they felt even breathing the same air as her was repulsive. * Shane's bodyguards eventually escorted Yvonne back to her prison cell. The combination of severe bld loss and overwhelming grief left Yvonne bedridden for two days, her body too weak to rise. On the third day, fate dealt another cruel blow. In the prison's recreation room, the television broadcasted Jayde's extravagant birthday celebration. The media were saying that the Brooks Group's CEO Shane had spared no expense in celebrating Jayde's birthday. The screen captured Jayde in her wheelchair, her natural beauty undimmed by her condition. Shane hovered attentively at her side, his expression radiating tenderness and devotion. Together, they looked really good together, like a match made in heaven. Fresh tears carved silent paths down Yvonne's cheeks as the reality struck her. While her grandmother Maggie was being laid to rest today, Shane--who had promised to assist with the funeral arrangements--was instead orchestrating an elaborate celebration for Jayde. In that moment of crushing clarity, Yvonne finally grasped the bitter truth: Shane's heart held no love for her. No sacrifice she made would ever be enough to change that. Yvonne had a secret, one she had guarded for a decade--her unwavering love for Shane. Shane had once only existed in a realm far beyond her reach, while she remained just another face in the crowd, their paths never meant to intersect. Fate had intervened three years ago through a devastating car accident that had left Shane comatose. The Brooks family had exhausted every medical resource, consulting countless renowned physicians without success. It was Shane's grandmother, Lydia Brooks, who turned to superstitious beliefs. She suggested that marriage might bring the fortune needed to restore Shane's health. Fate had taken another unexpected turn when Jayde, Shane's betrothed, had suddenly been kidnapped. With the wedding date looming, Lydia had desperately searched for another bride with a compatible horoscope. She had then discovered Yvonne, who had been working part-time as a caregiver for the Brooks family at that time. Marrying Shane came with a precious opportunity for Yvonne--Yvonne's ailing grandmother Maggie would receive treatment at the hospital under the Brooks Group. The hospital was one of the top hospitals in Zlamsas. Ordinary people couldn't afford to get treatment there. Yvonne had agreed to the marriage without hesitation, though her heart held a deeper truth. For seven years, she had harbored an unspoken love for Shane, willing to tend to him even if he would never emerge from his coma. A month after the marriage, Shane had miraculously awakened. His fury when he had learned of the marriage for fortune's sake had led to immediate demands for divorce. Yet, these demands had ceased abruptly when he had discovered Yvonne shared Jayde's bld type. From that moment forward, Yvonne had become nothing more than Jayde's living bld bank. Determined to make Shane happy, Yvonne had shouldered this burden silently. For two years, she had devoted herself to caring for Shane and his family, striving to embody the perfect wife--until Jayde's false accusation had led to her imprisonment. Ten years--she had loved Shane for ten years. She had given Shane her purest love and most selfless devotion, but what did she get in return? Shane only had eyes for Jayde, his heart perpetually closed to her. Perhaps she had been naive to hope Shane might one day even care about her a little bit. * Rain poured from leaden skies the day of Yvonne's release from prison. No one had come to pick her up. After a lengthy journey on multiple buses, she arrived at Serenity Villa, Shane's residence, her clothes clinging to her because of the rain. The fingerprint lock granted her entry, and she found Shane descending the staircase when she entered, his appearance impeccable in stark contrast to her disheveled state. Surprise flickered across Shane's features when he saw her. "Why are you back?" he asked. Yvonne's fingers trembled as she replied, "I was released today." "Ah, I forgot." Shane paused briefly before her. "Get some rest. I'm heading out now." "Shane," Yvonne suddenly called out. "I need to talk to you about something." Shane glanced impatiently at his watch. "We can talk when I return." As Shane moved past Yvonne, Yvonne grasped his sleeve to stop him. "It won't take long." Shane halted reluctantly, irritation evident in his expression. "Make it quick." Yvonne studied his perfect profile, a slight smile on her face. "Shane, let's get a divorce," she said, her tone resolute. Shane's confusion was palpable as he turned to face her. "You want a divorce because I didn't pick you up from prison?" "This isn't about today." Yvonne's smile didn't waver. "I genuinely want a divorce. We can handle the paperwork when you're free." "Yvonne, I don't have time for your antics right now." Shane's expression darkened as he shook off her hand. "You should take a shower and clear your head. You are not thinking straight." After Shane's departure, Yvonne stood motionless, lost in thought. Shane thought she was not thinking straight. But that was not true. In fact, her mind had never been clearer. * Upstairs, Yvonne drew a bath and powered on her fully charged phone. A month's worth of WhatsApp messages awaited her--none from Shane. As she absently scrolled through her feed, she suddenly froze upon seeing something. Jayde had just posted something. "True love is shown through enduring companionship." The accompanying photo showed her beaming at the camera while Shane peeled an apple beside her, the perfect picture of devotion. Chapter 3 I Want You Yvonne blinked. So that was why Shane had been in a rush to leave, not even wanting to talk about the divorce with her. He had been eager to go and spend time with Jayde. A familiar ache seized Yvonne's heart, spreading numbness through her chest. Throughout her two-year marriage with Shane, Yvonne had watched as Jayde paraded Shane's affections across social media. Each post had torn at her heart, yet something had kept drawing her back to look at the posts. Now, finally, she had resolved to end this cycle of torment. Her fingers moved swiftly as she deleted both Shane and Jayde from her WhatsApp contacts. After her shower, Yvonne just finished getting dressed when her phone rang. Shane's name blazed across the screen. Wasn't Shane supposed to be spending time with Jayde now? Why was he calling her? Yvonne hesitated for a moment but eventually picked up the call. "Shane?" "Did you delete Jayde on WhatsApp?" Shane asked. "Yes. What's wrong?" Yvonne replied. "You have the nerve to ask that?" Venom dripped from Shane's words. "Jayde wanted to congratulate you on your release but then discovered you had deleted her. She thought you still resented her. She broke down remembering when you had pushed her down the stairs. Yvonne, when will you stop causing trouble?" His sharp words pierced Yvonne's heart, but she maintained her composure. "Shane, deleting her was my freedom," she said. "You are still talking about your freedom?" Shane's voice grew colder. "She's a patient, Yvonne! She is already stuck in a wheelchair because of you. She is now emotionally fragile. The least you could do is show some compasion!" Yvonne's lips curled into a bitter smile as she closed her eyes, forcing her tears back. "If she's as fragile as you say, then it's all the more reason for me to keep my distance. God forbid something happens, and I get blamed again." "Yvonne, don't--" Yvonne didn't let Shane finish. The call ended with a sharp click, and she wasted no time blocking his number. After that, she made herself a simple plate of spaghetti and ate quietly, her thoughts heavy. Then, umbrella in hand, she headed to the cemetery. The rain fell in a quiet drizzle, soaking the earth. Yvonne stood before Maggie's tombstone for what felt like an eternity, the weight of her emotions pressing down on her chest. When she returned to Serenity Villa, it was already evening. Just as she entered, she saw Shane sitting on the living room sofa. Yvonne froze for a moment, caught off guard by his presence. Normally, when Shane was with Jayde, he wouldn't come home until late at night, after Jayde was asleep. Not wanting to delve into Shane's unusual behavior, Yvonne ignored him and headed upstairs. "Stop right there." Shane's voice cut through the quiet like a knife. Yvonne halted but didn't turn around. Shane rose from the sofa and walked to stand before Yvonne, his gaze locking onto hers. "You've grown bold, haven't you? Hanging up on me and even blocking my number?" Yvonne said nothing, her body tense as she tried to walk past him. But Shane grabbed her wrist, his grip firm. "I'm talking to you. What's the matter--did prison leave you deaf?" The words stung Yvonne hard, but she met his gaze, her voice trembling with restrained emotion. "Yes, Shane, I've been to prison. My life is already in ruins because of it. Isn't that punishment enough for you?" Shane's brows furrowed as his eyes searched her face. He noticed the puffiness around her eyes, the faint redness. "Have you been crying? Did you go to visit your grandmother's grave?" Yvonne tried hard to hold back her tears. "I wasn't there for her when she needed me the most. Do I need your permission to visit her now?" Shane's expression darkened when he heard that. "Yvonne, the reason I pushed for you to return to prison that day was because I didn't want you to dwell in your grief. It was for your own good." "For my own good?" Yvonne let out a hollow laugh, her bitterness spiling over. "Are you even listening to yourself? You can't even lie convincingly anymore, Shane." With a sharp tug, she pulled her wrist free. Her voice was steady now, cold and final. "I'm tired, Shane. Let's just end this. Let's get a divorce." * Yvonne went to the master bedroom's walk-in closet, dragging out an old suitcase to pack her belongings. She wanted to leave behind everything the Brooks family had given her after the wedding, which left little to take. "Yvonne, stop with your antics!" Shane's exasperated voice cut through the silence. "It was just a year in prison. I made sure you weren't mistreated there. What more do you want?" Yvonne's hands stilled over her clothes as she turned her head to face him. "You certainly ensured I was treated differently. Every meal there was packed with spinach and liver to replenish my bld, keeping me ready for the next bl*d transfusion for Jayde." Shane's brow furrowed. "So this circles back to Jayde again. The transfusions saved her life. You work in medicine--you should have some compassion. And I've compensated you generously." "Compassion?" A hollow laugh escaped Yvonne's lips. "Show me one doctor who has bld themselves dry for a patient." She gestured toward the wall of luxury handbags--a collection worth hundreds of millions, coveted by countless women. "Is this your idea of compensation? One bag per transfusion. I always get the ones Jayde rejected." Each bag was Jayde's selection, and Shane paid for it. Jayde would claim the ones she preferred, leaving Yvonne with the ostentatious pieces--expensive but impractical for daily use. Yvonne had never requested bags, yet both Shane and Jayde believed exchanging bld for luxury bags was a good deal for her. "I won't take a single bag," Yvonne said with a slight smile. "I never agreed to sell my bld." Shane massaged his temples. Throughout their marriage, Yvonne had remained compliant--occasionally sulking but never defiant, never speaking to him like this. Shane gripped Yvonne's shoulders, his tone gentling. "I know you're upset after staying in prison for so long. Let's not fight, okay? I asked Zoey to prepare your favorite dishes. Let's go and have a meal together." Yvonne shrugged off his hands, grabbed her suitcase, and moved toward the door. The next second, in one fluid motion, Shane swept Yvonne into his arms. Before Yvonne could resist, she was placed on the soft bd by Shane. He trapped her hands above her head, his scent surrounding her as he whispered in her ear, "Yvonne, stop being angry, alright? Tonight, I will mke lve to you until you're satisfied." Yvonne's heart thundered in her chest. Previously, when anger took hold of her, she would always melt under Shane's bdroom tactics, quick to forgive. Shane had found amusement in this pattern. His dominance had always overwhelmed her, pushing her limits until she broke into tears, begging for mercy and agreeing to his every demand. Yvonne shuddered, her body taut as she grasped at her crumbling resolve. Though she struggled against him, Shane seemed determined to draw her into the moment, refusing to release her. Shane muttered, "Yvonne, I want you..." Chapter 4 She Is Pregnant Yvonne fought against the magnetic pull of Shane's touch, forcing herself to bite down hard on her lower lip. The sharp sting anchored her thoughts,she couldn't afford to lose herself in this facade of intimacy anymore, not in a marriage devoid of genuine love. Just then, the shrill ring of a phone pierced the intimate moment. Shane showed no intention of stopping, but the persistent sound quickly disrupted his mood. His eyes darted to the screen, and he let go of Yvonne. The name "Jayde" illuminated the screen, and Yvonne also saw it. History had taught Yvonne the pattern well. Other calls during such moments would be silenced by Shane without hesitation, but Jayde's calls were the exception. Whenever Jayde called Shane, Shane would answer immediately. Shane's voice turned gentle as he answered the call. "I'm at home... She didn't mean anything against you; don't overthink it... Alright, I'll go to see you later..." Yvonne sat up, adjusting her clothes. Her hands trembled as she buttoned her shirt. Shane ended his call and turned to her with an amused smile playing on his lips. "Such haste to dress yourself--are you afraid of what I might do?" Yvonne didn't say anything. "If you want them to stay fastened, join me for dinner downstairs now." Recalling what had just happened, Yvonne acquiesced. Resistance, she had learned, was futile. * In the dining room, the maid, Zoey Rowe, had already prepared a feast of culinary excellence. "Mrs. Brooks, you have lost so much weight. You need to eat more," Zoey said. Shane's gaze traveled across the table, studying the woman eating before him. Zoey's observation struck a chord--Yvonne's natural slenderness had indeed become more pronounced since her release from prison, her features carrying a new sharpness. Though her beauty remained unchanged, Shane couldn't help but feel like Yvonne had changed somehow. As Zoey transferred a portion of braised beef to Yvonne's plate, the rich aroma triggered an unexpected wave of nausea in Yvonne. She couldn't help but gag. "Mrs. Brooks!" Zoey rushed to pour a glass of water for Yvonne, concern etching her features. "Are you feeling unwell?" "I'm fine." Yvonne regained her composure and rose from her chair. "I'm full now." Shane's appetite vanished as he watched Yvonne leave. Abandoning his meal, he stood up and prepared to leave the house. "Mr. Brooks, you've barely touched your food," Zoey said. "I need to step out." Shane shrugged into his coat, pausing to instruct, "The food in prison is bland--Yvonne's body needs time to readjust. Prepare lighter meals for now." Zoey nodded and replied, "Yes, Mr. Brooks." * Upstairs, Yvonne had just reached her room when she heard the sound of a car engine from outside. A bitter smile twisted her lips as she contemplated how quickly Shane had abandoned dinner to fulfill his promise to Jayde. It was clear Shane really loved Jayde. Standing beside the floor-to-ceiling window, Yvonne watched Shane's car disappear into the distance. As she closed her weary eyes, a startling realization jolted them open again--she realized she might be carrying a child. The timing left little room for doubt. That day a month ago, Shane had refused to use protection. Shane had always disliked using protection, so she always took medication afterward. She had planned to purchase preventive medication after visiting Maggie in the hospital that day, but grief had consumed her when Maggie passed away unexpectedly. The pils had slipped from her mind entirely. Thoughts whirled through Yvonne's head like autumn leaves in a storm until clarity finally emerged. She hurried out to purchase a pregnancy test, her heart thundering against her ribs. The two clear lines that appeared finally confirmed her suspicions with stark finality. She just hadn't taken the pils one time. She had not expected to get prgnant so easily like this. Yvonne's hand drifted to her lower abdomen, her emotions churning like a turbulent sea. The cruel irony of fate struck her like a physical blow--just as she had steeled herself to end her marriage with Shane, she discovered she was carrying his child. Sleep proved elusive that night, Yvonne's thoughts churning until exhaustion finally claimed her. When she woke up, the sky outside was bright. Shane had not come home the entire night, his side of the bed untouched. After Yvonne made her way down for breakfast, Zoey burst into the dining room, barely containing her excitement beneath a veneer of hesitation. "What has made you so excited?" Yvonne asked, studying Zoey's expression. "Did you win the lottery or something?" "Mrs. Brooks, it's you who has made me excited!" Zoey produced a pregnancy test, her eyes sparkling. "I found this while cleaning. You are prgnant! This is wonderful news! Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?" Yvonne's silence spoke volumes. "Mrs. Brooks?" Zoey's enthusiasm dimmed. "Aren't you happy about this?" Yvonne stirred her oatmeal slowly. "Zoey, I've already told Shane that I want a divorce." The revelation struck Zoey like lightning. "You want to divorce Mr. Brooks? How could you consider such a thing?" she said. "Why can't I do that?" Yvonne's voice remained steady, masking her inner turmoil. "Haven't you noticed how great Shane and Jayde look together? They are the real loving couple here. I disrupted their relationship, claiming a title that wasn't rightfully mine and forcing them apart." Her lips curved in self-mockery at her foolish dream that Shane might grow to love her one day. Tears welled in Zoey's eyes. "Mrs. Brooks, I know this past year in prison brought you immense suffering. But that chapter has ended. You and Mr. Brooks can build something new together now. Eventually, Mr. Brooks will recognize your worth. Now, with you being prgnant, everything could change. Your child deserves a complete family--you can't proceed with the divorce." Yvonne's movements stilled as memories of her own childhood surfaced. Orphaned young, she had been raised by her grandparents. Though her grandparents had given her all the love they could, she had always envied other children who had both their parents. She understood profoundly the importance of giving a child a complete family. "Having children often changes a man's priorities," Zoey said gently. "Fatherhood has a way of grounding men, redirecting their focus to family. For your child's sake, shouldn't Mr. Brooks have a chance to prove himself?" Yvonne nodded slightly. Perhaps Zoey was right--her child deserved a chance at a complete family. If Shane could maintain distance from Jayde, she would bury the past and make her marriage with Shane work. After breakfast, Yvonne took a taxi to the Brooks Group. Few employees knew of her marriage to Shane, so she called Shane's assistant, asking him to escort her to Shane's office. She found Shane engaged in a phone call in his office, his lack of surprise at her appearance suggesting he had grown accustomed to her anger dissipating overnight. The assistant provided Yvonne with a glass of water and then departed. Shane ended his call and looked at Yvonne. "Why didn't you sleep in?" "I've had sufficient sleep." Yvonne pointed at the thermos she had brought. "Zoey asked me to bring the soup to you." "I'll have it later," Shane replied. "Where were you last night, Shane?" Yvonne asked. Shane's response came without hesitation. "Jayde wasn't feeling well and was admitted to the hospital. I stayed with her there." Yvonne's fingers trembled when she heard that. After gathering her courage, she said, "If we had a child, would you spend more time at home?" Shane's brow furrowed. "You want a child now?" "Don't you want a child?" Yvonne asked. Shane lit a cigarette, taking a drag before responding in measured tones, "Yvonne, now is not the right time for us to have a child." Yvonne paused for a moment. "Why?" Shane replied, "Jayde's health has been declining. If you became prgnant, you wouldn't be able to donate your bl*d to her." Chapter 5 Leaving With Nothing A glacial chill crept through Yvonne's body, starting at her feet and spreading gradually until numbness claimed every inch of her being. She realized she had been too naive. She had clung to desperate hopes--that she could start a new family with Shane, that Shane might embrace fatherhood as Zoey had suggested, that their unborn child could bridge the growing chasm between Shane and her. But reality had shattered those illusions, revealing a harsh truth: even their child ranked beneath Jayde in Shane's eyes. Yvonne closed her eyes as tears traced silent paths down her cheeks. "I know you don't like Jayde." Shane's patronizing tone cut through the silence. "But her health is genuinely fragile now. Surely you can show some understanding of that." His eyes flickered over Yvonne's tear-stained features as he added, "We can discuss having children once Jayde's health condition improves. There's no need to rush." A bitter smile twisted Yvonne's lips. She knew that if she told Shane now that she was prgnant, he would probably drag her to the hospital immediately to terminate the pregnancy. This child represented one of her last remaining familial bonds, and she would never sacrifice it for Jayde's sake. "Of course, I understand that," Yvonne said, brushing away her tears and summoning a weak smile. "Don't let me keep you from your work. I won't bother you any further." She fled Shane's office before he could respond, retreating to Serenity Villa where she hastily packed her belongings, gave Zoey some instructions, and left. Though she had initially planned to seek refuge in a hotel, her uncle's timely call redirected her path to his doorstep. The clock struck ten when Shane returned to Serenity Villa, only to find the master bedroom empty. Yvonne was not there. His attempt to reach Yvonne by phone proved futile, prompting him to go downstairs and summon Zoey. "Where's Yvonne?" he asked Zoey. "Mrs. Brooks has moved out," Zoey replied. "What?" A deep frown etched across Shane's features. "When?" "This morning." Zoey hesitated, the weight of Yvonne's words pressing down on her. Yvonne had told her not to mention anything about her pregnancy to Shane. Otherwise, the baby would be harmed. After a moment, Zoey presented Shane with a document. "Mrs. Brooks left this divorce agreement for you." Shane's eyes swept over the pages, a cold laugh escaping his lips. "Leaving with nothing--she's really something!" "Mr. Brooks appears quite resolute about the decision to divorce," Zoey said. "That's not her choice to make!" Shane yanked at his tie in frustration. "Where has she gone?" "Mrs. Brooks didn't tell me that," Zoey replied. Shane stormed out, barking orders for the driver to ready the car. * Fresh from her shower in the guest room, Yvonne was about to go to sleep when her phone's ringing pierced the silence. An unknown number flashed across the screen. Yvonne answered the call. "Hello?" "Come downstairs." Shane's familiar, cold voice echoed on the other end of the line. Yvonne's grip on the phone froze for a moment. "I am already in bed." "I will give you ten minutes, Yvonne. If you don't come down in ten minutes, I'll ensure this entire neighborhood gets no sleep tonight," Shane said. The call then disconnected, leaving Yvonne staring at her phone. After a moment's hesitation, she changed and descended the stairs. A black Rolls-Royce was parked outside, with Shane's imposing figure beside it. Maintaining a careful distance, Yvonne spoke with forced composure. "It's late. What do you want?" "You're asking me that? Did you interpret last night's conversation as some kind of joke? You had the audacity to draft divorce papers and vanish?" Shane said. "Get in the car. Come home. We'll forget this ever happened." "Home..." Yvonne let out a bitter laugh. "That place is not my home. If it is, why would my husband spend his nights elsewhere with another woman?" "Back to Jayde again. Can't you stop being so petty?" Shane said. "You think I am being petty? Should I smile while watching your displays of affection? Continue offering my bld? Perhaps serve another prison sentence?" Yvonne looked at Shane. "Shane, our marriage was business, but I'm a person--not Jayde's personal bl*d bank." Shane let out a cold chuckle. "You knew the marriage was transactional. You married me for your grandmother's treatment. Now that she's gone, you're eager to leave me. Burning bridges already?" Yvonne replied, "Fine. I'll repay every cent of my grandmother's hospital bills. I won't owe you anything after that." Fury blazed in Shane's eyes. "What did you say?" Yvonne met his rage with a calm expression. "Calculate the total. I'll provide an IOU and repay it in installments. You can decide on the interest." Just as she finished speaking, Shane quickly approached Yvonne. Yvonne barely had time to react before finding herself engulfed in his embrace. His hand gripped her waist as the world tilted, her back meeting the car's cold metal surface. "What are you--" Shane's lips silenced Yvonne's protest, claiming dominance in a breathtaking kis that left her gasping. "Unless you want me to have s*x with you right here, get in the car." ...... What happens next? Can Yvonne divorce as she wishes? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/68536322-fb_contact-e	Heat Novel A	https://www.facebook.com/100089743291944/	609	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	VIDEO		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/68536322-fb_contact-enj106_2-250213-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=807BF4DD44FFB0C857B71CEC32E2495AB7809AE06E04A4CB	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/479184930_1162777035516874_7314472942814544266_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=e6acSy53Ss4Q7kNvgFzAgY8&_nc_oc=AdiCQoVoGiYLfoV5U-bAwDODElwBUJNEndw8biDLB4BTlPW7byOC_vOeFiYRv2Rozuz9Uw5ZKrtO4oz-ToRu-AiB&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A5LODlAXrLvbrAiuz2YxtlI&oh=00_AYBYcsr7nq13ittPJvG2AvMouE3is5hxtCewcrHg9VLK4Q&oe=67CB9C17	PERSON_PROFILE	Heat Novel A	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,748,641	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 09:54	active	2763	Read next chapter	She was overjoyed when she found out she was pregnant, but she saw her husband having intimate with his first love. She left the divorce agreement in tears, hiding her pregnant belly and departing with a broken heart... ===== "Ms. Wright, congratulations! Your baby's very healthy." Jenessa Wright walked out of the hospital in a daze, clutching the pregnancy test result close to her chest. She was pregnant with Ryan's baby! Looking down, she absentmindedly caressed her still-flat belly and broke into a smile. Grinning like silly, Jenessa hurriedly took out her phone to call Ryan Haynes, her husband, excited to share the wonderful news. However, just as she was about to dial his number, her phone buzzed. It read, "Come to Imodon Hotel right now." It was a message from Ryan. Imodon Hotel? Why'd he want her to go there all of a sudden? Jenessa was puzzled, but she didn't hesitate for long. She hailed a cab and headed straight to the hotel. Since Ryan wanted to see her, she figured she might as well tell him the good news in person. With her heart pounding in anticipation, Jenessa arrived at the hotel. As soon as she stepped out of the car, she noticed the lobby was adorned with flowers and a brand-new red carpet, clearly prepared for a celebration. Jenessa paused, momentarily stunned, before remembering that today was their wedding anniversary. Could it be that Ryan had asked her to come here to surprise her? She smiled to herself, wondering idly how Ryan would react to the news of her pregnancy. Jenessa wove her way through the crowd, her plain attire blending into the festive scene unnoticed. It didn't take long for her to spot the dazzlingly handsome man, who easily stood out among the crowd. He was none other than her husband, Ryan Haynes, the father of their child. Just as a smile started to form on her lips, she spotted the woman standing next to Ryan, and her smile froze. That woman was Ryan's first love, Maisie Powell! Since when was Maisie back in town? Jenessa stood glued to her spot, paralyzed as she watched Ryan and Maisie entertain the guests like a perfect couple. Friends surrounded the two, and they seemed to be offering them their congratulations. "Maisie, you're finally home. This deserves a toast!" "Ryan, after all these years, you and Maisie have finally reunited. Doesn't that call for a celebratory drink?" Gradually, the teasing grew louder. Maisie, dressed to the nines in a s*xy red dress and exquisite makeup, chuckled graciously. "Quit teasing us, you guys. Ryan already has a wife." At the mention of Jenessa, the people around showed disdain. "Jenessa? Please! Ryan only married her to appease his grandma!" "Exactly! Ryan has always wanted to marry you. Right, Ryan?" Ryan, looking like a prince in his custom-tailored suit, radiated a cool, unique charisma. "Alright, enough already; stop teasing Maisie," he said coolly. "She can't drink; let me drink on her behalf." As soon as he said this, his friends' laughter and teasing grew even more intense. "Hey, Ryan, what the heck? You're being so protective of her, aren't you? Fine! If she can't drink, then you'll have to drink her share! And you're not allowed to leave until you've finished!" Amidst the boisterous teasing, Ryan remained cool and collected, but there was an unmistakable hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Next to him, Maisie lowered her head and blushed shyly. This loving scene was so glaring that it pierced Jenessa's heart. She didn't know when or how, but she somehow ended up outside the hotel, only realizing it when the cold raindrops hit her face. The chilly wind and drizzling rain enveloped her, and in no time, a fierce storm broke out, soaking her to her bones. Still, she didn't move an inch and simply stared blankly at the rain. Why had Ryan called her over? Was this all just a ploy to make her witness their affection and gracefully surrender her place as his wife to his beloved Maisie? Jenessa's breathing grew heavy. Looking around in a daze, she figured there was nothing she could do but leave this wretched place. With stiff, deliberate steps, she trudged home in the rain. Standing at the doorway, she gazed at the familiar house, her thoughts drifting. Two years ago, when her family was on the brink of bankruptcy, they tried salvaging their situation by marrying her off into the Haynes family. Ryan was initially unwilling, but because his gravely ill grandma kept pressuring him, he reluctantly agreed to the arranged marriage. Now that his grandma's health had improved and Maisie was back from abroad, Jenessa thought maybe it was time for her to pack her things and leave Ryan. Jenessa didn't know how long she stood in front of the house before the sound of a car engine reached her ears. Then, Ryan's deep voice spoke beside her. "Jenessa, why are you standing here, out in the rain?" Chapter 2 I Want A Divorce In a daze, Jenessa looked up, only to meet the stern gaze of the man standing before her. Was she seeing things? What was Ryan doing here? Maisie had just returned from abroad; shouldn't he be spending time with the woman he loved? Ryan couldn't help but frown when he didn't receive a response from Jenessa. Jenessa, soaking wet from the rain, looked like a drowned rat. With her long, dark hair plastered to her pale cheeks, water dripping steadily from the ends, she seemed so helpless and pitiful. "What on earth happened to you?" Ryan questioned, his tone sounding a bit harsher than intended. Jenessa recalled how gentle and affectionate he was with Maisie at the hotel earlier, causing her heart to ache. It was painfully clear that Ryan's attitude towards the woman he loved and the one he didn't were worlds apart. Trying hard to swallow the bitter taste in her mouth, Jenessa forced a smile and softly explained, "It started raining on my way back home, and I didn't have an umbrella, so I got drenched-" While speaking, her nose suddenly itched unbearably, and she couldn't help but sneeze loudly. But instead of pitying her, Ryan only frowned deeper. "You're not a child anymore. If you get caught in the rain, the first thing you should do when you get home is dry off and change your clothes. Do I really need to spell things out for you?" The smile on Jenessa's face stiffened. "I-I'm sorry..." "Go get changed quickly, or else you'll catch a cold." Ryan seemed too impatient with her to say anything more, so he bypassed her and walked inside the house. Catch a cold? Only then did Jenessa remember that she was pregnant; she couldn't afford to get sick, lest she put the baby in harm's way. With that in mind, she hurried to her room, took a hot shower, and let the warm water chase away the chill. Wrapped in a towel, she stepped out of the steam-filled bathroom, only to find Ryan standing in her way. She gasped in surprise and instinctively clutched her towel more tightly around her chest. Ryan's sharp gaze remained fixed on her, and upon noticing her reaction, he asked indifferently, "Why should you be nervous? It's nothing I haven't already seen." Jenessa's face flushed bright red as memories of their passionate, intimate nights together flashed before her eyes. Without waiting for a response, Ryan casually held out a cold medicine pill and a glass of water. "Here, take this." Jenessa hesitantly glanced at the pill in his hand, worried that it might not be good for the baby. "Well, I think I'll be fine without it. After all, I was only in the rain for a while." Unexpectedly, Ryan refused to let her off the hook. "Have you seen yourself in the mirror? You're as pale as a ghost. We're visiting Grandma tomorrow, so you'd better not get sick, you hear me?" But Jenessa, worried about the baby, stubbornly resisted. "I just need to drink something warm, that's all. I'm fine, really." At this point, Ryan's patience wore thin. He decisively popped the pill in his mouth and drank some water from the glass. "Ryan, what're you- Agh!" Before Jenessa could get another word out, Ryan leaned closer, his tall frame looming over her, and grabbed her delicate chin. Forcing her to raise her head, he planted his lips firmly on hers. The pill and water then flowed into her mouth, and he didn't loosen his grip until he was certain that she had swallowed the pill. The sudden kiss made Jenessa dizzy, washing away all her inhibitions. Ryan's desires were stirred, and he carried her over to the bed. He pulled away from her for the briefest of moments to undo his tie, his eyes burning with an all-consuming desire for her. When Jenessa met his intense gaze, she snapped back to reality and cried out, "No!" Trembling, she pushed against his rock-hard chest. "Hmm?" Ryan stopped in his tracks, wondering if he had misheard. He tried to kiss Jenessa again, but she decisively turned her head away, avoiding his eyes. "Ryan, I..." She gulped, struggling to get the words out. "I want a divorce." Her words extinguished Ryan's desires in the blink of an eye. Annoyance flashing across his face, he coldly grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at him, his deep eyes staring piercingly into hers. "Say that again?" Jenessa's heart skipped a beat. Still, she managed to suppress the turbulent emotions inside her and bravely met Ryan's intense gaze. "I said, I want a divorce." A flicker of unreadable emotion crossed Ryan's eyes. "Why?" Jenessa was taken aback by his question, confusion and bewilderment evident on her face. Why else? To fulfill his wish to marry his beloved Maisie, of course. "Because..." Her voice trailed off feebly, unable to utter the obvious. "Is your family in financial trouble again? This is about money?" Ryan looked down at her icily. "Jenessa, don't you know your place? If you need something, just say it. Don't play these little games with me, because I do not have the patience for this bullshit." Jenessa quietly clenched her fists and gritted her teeth. So, Ryan assumed that her request for a divorce was just one of her games, an attempt to leverage the situation for her benefit? Jenessa smiled bitterly, but her eyes showed a look of uncharacteristically fierce determination. "Don't worry. I don't want anything but a divorce. Ryan, we were going to get a divorce sooner or later, so what difference does it make?" Ryan didn't respond immediately. He just stared at her with a strange, serious look in his eyes. His silence sent Jenessa into a trance, a mix of anxiety and inexplicable flicker of hope taking root in her heart. "Or... do you not want a divorce?" Chapter 3 Look Out, World! The thought that Ryan might want to stay married made Jenessa's heart skip a beat, her chest heaving from anticipation. However, under her hopeful gaze, Ryan scoffed coldly. "Jenessa, don't kid yourself." His tone was full of mockery, each word piercing her heart like a knife. "Do you really think I'd say 'no' to a divorce?" He locked eyes with her, his gaze icy cold. "Remember this, Jenessa-you're the one who asked for a divorce. You'd better not come crawling back to me when it's all said and done." With that, he got out of bed and left, slamming the door behind him. Jenessa lay despondently on the bed, her heart heavy with disappointment. Tears rolling down her cheeks, she gently placed a hand on her belly, feeling the little life growing inside her. She had originally planned to tell Ryan the good news, but in the span of just a few hours, they were on the brink of divorce. After thinking about it a moment or two, she decided it was best to keep Ryan in the dark about her pregnancy. Even if they separated ways, she could raise the baby on her own. Then, thinking about her job as Ryan's secretary, she felt a pang of helplessness. Ryan's grandma had arranged for her to work under Ryan to nurture their relationship, and back then, it seemed like a good idea. But now, things were different, and it was high time she left that job. The following morning, as soon as Jenessa arrived at the WorldLink Group's headquarters, a few of her more gossipy colleagues surrounded her. "Jenessa, we've been waiting for you all morning! What's going on with Mr. Haynes and that Maisie girl? Are they an item now?" "News of Mr. Haynes throwing a welcome-home party for international supermodel Maisie Powell went viral overnight. He even invited all his friends. Looks like he's planning to make their relationship public soon!" "I heard that after the party, they spent the night together. Maybe she's his future wife!" Jenessa felt a pang of bitterness as she listened. After a brief hesitation, she replied despondently, "I don't know much about it." Her colleagues exchanged glances and rolled eyes. Obviously, they didn't believe her. "Come on, Jenessa! You're Mr. Haynes' secretary. You know him better than anyone. How could you not know any insider information? Just spill the beans already!" Jenessa forced a weak smile. Everyone knew that she was Ryan's secretary, but very few people knew that she was also Ryan's wife. He was even reluctant to make their relationship public. With a soft sigh, she stood her ground more firmly. "I really don't know, okay? Enough with the gossip." The colleagues wanted to press her further, but Jenessa cut them off before they could get another word out. "I said there's nothing to say, so quit pestering me. Were you all hired just to gossip? Get back to work, all of you!" Her stern expression made them uneasy, but she was right; they had to comply. "Okay, okay, we get it." As Jenessa walked away, they couldn't help but mutter and grumble among themselves. "Who does she think she is? Acting all high and mighty. Humph! She's not the only secretary here." "Yeah, when she started working here out of the blue three years ago, we all thought she had some kind of relationship with Mr. Haynes. But in the end, he didn't pay her any special attention-never took her to meetings with clients. She's his personal secretary, but what of it? Just eye candy!" "Her days here are numbered. Once Maisie marries Mr. Haynes, Jenessa will be the first one to go. After all, who would trust a pretty secretary around their man?" "Exactly!" Their laughter and unrestrained chatter filled the office, but Jenessa turned a deaf ear to it all and walked straight to her desk, immersing herself in her work. She knew how those seemingly friendly colleagues truly saw her. But she couldn't argue with them, because even she herself felt like a joke. Before she knew it, it was time to get off work, and most of the secretaries had already gone home. Just as Jenessa was packing her things, she received a call from her best friend, Brinley Lloyd. "Hey, I saw the news this morning. What the hell is going on with Ryan and that Maisie girl? Just rumors, right?" Hearing the disbelief in Brinley's voice, Jenessa sighed heavily. "It's true." Brinley gasped in shock mixed with horror. "What the hell?!" Throughout the day, Jenessa had thought things through, so she was relatively calm as she explained, "In the first place, Ryan and I only got married as part of an agreement. I always knew he had no feelings for me; he only married me because his grandma insisted. Now that the woman he loves is back in the picture, there's no reason for me to stay. It's time to let them be together." Brinley felt both incredulous and indignant. "But... What about the baby? Weren't you going to surprise him?" "Would it be a wonderful surprise to him? Or a horrifying shock?" Jenessa instinctively touched her flat belly, a bitter smile on her lips. "Anyway, what matters is I've made up my mind- I want a divorce, and I'll raise this baby on my own. There's no need for him to know." "Seriously, a divorce? Are you sure about that?" Brinley sounded very concerned. "If you don't want him to know you're pregnant, then you can't keep working at WorldLink. Your belly will get bigger and bigger." "Don't worry, I'm way ahead of you. I'll resign soon. Then, I can finally go back to doing what I truly love." The mention of her long-lost dreams brought a rare smile to Jenessa's face. "Oh, my God! Jenessa, are you going back to your old career?" Brinley was thrilled. "That's fantastic! I always believed in you! You're a genius designer! Look out, world-Sloane Todd, a legend in the fashion design world, is coming! You shouldn't have wasted your talents as Ryan's secretary all these years. He's not worth it!" "Sloane Todd..." Jenessa felt a bit dazed at the mention of that long-forgotten pseudonym. For Ryan, she had lost herself for so long. She almost forgot who she truly was. "Jenessa." A magnetic, masculine voice suddenly sounded behind her. Startled, Jenessa whirled around to find a stern-looking Ryan standing behind her. Chapter 4 A Bun In The Oven "Ry-I mean, Mr. Haynes! What are you doing here?" Jenessa was so startled that she fumbled for the right words, having been caught completely off guard. She hurriedly ended the call, her jittery gaze searching Ryan's face for any signs of anger, feeling inexplicably scared and flustered. When had Ryan arrived? How much had he overheard? "Weren't we supposed to visit Grandma at the hospital today?" Ryan asked, impatience evident in his tone. Only then did Jenessa remember that they had indeed made plans that day. Lowering her head apologetically, she murmured, "I... I'm sorry." "Hmph," Ryan grunted indifferently. As though unwilling to spare another glance at her, he turned around and walked out, saying briskly, "Let's go." It took the dazed Jenessa a second before she snapped to her senses and quickly caught up to him. On the way to the hospital, her mind was in turmoil. A complex mix of emotions plagued her heart as she anxiously wondered if Ryan had overheard her conversation with Brinley. But then she figured, if Ryan had heard that she planned to secretly raise their baby on her own, he wouldn't be so calm now. The two sat side by side in the back seat in complete silence. Naturally, Jenessa's distracted demeanor was a bit hard to ignore. Ryan couldn't stand it anymore. Brows furrowed, he turned his head slightly and demanded, "What's going on with you?" His deep voice startled Jenessa, interrupting her thoughts. "N-nothing," she stammered hastily. "Is that so?" Ryan spoke slowly, his tone carrying a hint of doubt. Jenessa's racing heart pounded in her chest. Just as she opened her mouth to defend herself, Ryan's magnetic voice suddenly sounded again, this time a lot closer to her ear. "If it really is nothing, then why are you avoiding me? Why won't you look at me, hmm?" Jenessa, frozen in place, dared not move an inch. A barely audible scoff escaped Ryan as he reached out one hand, gently grasping the back of her neck. From the corner of her eye, Jenessa saw him leaning in slowly...... ...... ==== To the public, she was the CEO's executive secretary. Behind closed doors, she was the wife he never officially acknowledged. Jenessa was elated when she learned that she was pregnant. But that joy was replaced with dread as her husband, Ryan, showered his affections on his first love. With a heavy heart, she chose to set him free and leave, only to be caught by Ryan... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://web.weread.mobi/57632322-fb_contact-enr25_	Hello Read	https://www.facebook.com/61550873765205/	1,009	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	web.weread.mobi	IMAGE		https://web.weread.mobi/57632322-fb_contact-enr25_2-c3-0727-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=1166169688155768&exdata=E7C53BDECE0DE88B0C7D5ADE28B39889515BA1CE513775B5	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476291646_1176699300336399_4393261859970985928_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dQiqksS-NPMQ7kNvgF1P4NU&_nc_oc=AdiD-qFJCSYWFZa_sbVPOoxCrp_Nd-CIKAhoGJmotUfWMJMNr6zUUFGbTo_h8dDwQApiaTLxOL9V7_rmrcpnfspO&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMQP68hgAy22xECDi0ptOoT&oh=00_AYBWuo5TICcyNrsc8AgMlr5b0NIMf17yBAFFkSoEoi7WNQ&oe=67CBA1C0	PERSON_PROFILE	Hello Read	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,748,417	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2748469}'	No	2025-03-03 09:54	active	2763	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	"I've been watching you since you arrived," this mysterious man whispered in my ear. "You're so beautiful!" "You're kind. But you're not from around here, are you?" He had a powerful presence, radiating authority. "No. A friend convinced me to come to this party." "Looks like we have something in common - my friends convinced me to come too." "Lucky me!" "And why's that?" I smiled. "Because I was captivated the moment I saw you. You're stunning." As he whispered in my ear, I got goosebumps, feeling my face flush and my body tingle - he truly had me enchanted. "Even with the mask?" "Even with the mask! You're too beautiful." "You're such a charmer." "You think I'm charming?" "You know you are. And handsome too." "I'm glad you like what you see." "And what do you do for a living, handsome?" - I felt a bit dizzy, not sure if it was from the drink or the delicious cologne that man was wearing. I ended up stumbling over my own feet. "Are you okay?" "I think I need some air." "Come with me." - He pulled me into a dark hallway that led to an emergency exit and started fanning my face. - "I really want to kiss you. May I?" - I nodded yes. He looked into my eyes, held the back of my neck, and our lips met. It started slow but deepened; he pressed me against the wall, and the kiss intensified even more, almost taking our breath away. When he broke the kiss so we could breathe, we looked into each other's eyes - it was like throwing gasoline on fire. He ran his hand down my waist to my leg and pulled my leg up to his waist. I was completely surrendered by then, feeling his body against mine. I went crazy with desire and pulled him closer, wrapping my leg around his waist. "You're a great kisser!" - I smiled at him and felt my whole body tingle. "Oh, beautiful, you're incredible. I want you so badly, here, right now!" - he said between kisses and slipped his hand under my dress, pulling it up and reaching my underwear. I was on fire when he put his hand inside my underwear and yelled. - "Oh! So delicious! So hot, so wet!" - He said and kissed me harder while unzipping his pants. With a quick movement, like someone who had done this before, he tore my underwear and caressed my entrance, as if asking for permission. He looked into my eyes again and asked: "What do you want me to do?"	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17966&u	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	374	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	redtgb.com	VIDEO		https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17966&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475543890_967369101508159_2344764484001098204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=PjoBVQdkK-MQ7kNvgGykLNY&_nc_oc=AdiOQhsxoSDP1lrNPbONZX68A5vWuFBEOmuD5M0E3uz6SCNu1EUdR2empQd3PpHdZ7twP-iY75e9eH2CCHxgTLbs&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AV4c8Effqfo6gQJCljnD1e2&oh=00_AYCIPVdmcXxYtRP0gmKQoFuuqNCyNSvKgTwhZV2kqoThoQ&oe=67CB9143	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,748,722	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 09:54	active	2763	Read next chapter	To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blde. "You're the one who climbed into my bd back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi*ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his bdmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my bd, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in bd. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her chst. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red mrk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my bd too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You bch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame graning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e	Popular romance stories	https://www.facebook.com/100083149047490/	17,999	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	VIDEO		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0130-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=673595984708315&exdata=E7C53BDECE0DE88B648F52CB86A7EC48244A9117863F55E7	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475746045_2918065788353073_4369122438170724924_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=GD_BLX4CsMwQ7kNvgEbfmkD&_nc_oc=AdiQ7DM4LuWx6N-tze5DGhgkKUi_TI59rZSA6OEXnNVE6BtJ4DO1sdPhjbrYb4tzh4fuRPEeuz1A5YwnUfOT4lha&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ab9VrFG88kzrNUwSmpnRSnt&oh=00_AYDJ7Hdv71U62ZffadQTCV6YydpgfiP3nHqWHxi7oZL7wA&oe=67CBA058	PERSON_PROFILE	Popular romance stories	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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