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2,755,105	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2754964}'	Yes	2025-03-03 11:42	active	2770	❤😍check out 👉The Alpha’s Contract, and dive into a world full of wolves, drama, and epic twists. 🔥	"Where is she?" I hear the Beta scream. I groan and rise to my feet, grabbing the cleaning basket before heading over. The moment Beta Kyle sees me, he strides towards me and his hand slices against my cheek. I don't make a sound. Years of experience has taught me to keep my mouth shut at all times. "Alpha Trey and I are expecting company and you still have not cleaned the office." Beta Kyle spits at me. I nod my head and my hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If only I could find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make my day. But I didn't need another week locked up with no food. My stomach already hurt enough. "We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Don't you understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!" I don't answer, It's a trap, a ploy to provoke me into saying something that would justify punishment. I keep my eyes lowered, avoiding his gaze. Alpha Dane, I had only ever heard rumours about him. He was a ruthless man, a Wolf feared by others. He didn't mess around and he had the largest pack. "He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!" We had never been attacked and we had never attacked anyone, so why did we need another pack to help us? He grabs my shoulders, his nails digging into my skin as he turns me around and kicks me into the office. "Useless Wolf." He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean against it, observing the already clean office. It looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing my eyes, I slide down to the floor. I hated this house. I thought that when I turned eighteen, I could finally escape, but four years later, here I still am, a slave in my own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for my brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While my ex mate, Beta Kyle waltzes around reminding me of how worthless I am. Someone clears their throat and I freeze, I thought I was alone. Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair, just around the corner. A foot propped up on his knee as he nurses a glass of alcohol. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don't quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. "Is this the way you greet all Alphas?" His deep voice rumbles through the room, there was an edge of amusement to his tone. "I'm sorry." I whisper, getting to my feet. "I...I thought I was alone." I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. "Come forward." He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey wil kill me. I step around the corner, doing as I'm told, allowing him to see me properly. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. "You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?" I nod, though I couldn't tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. "I would prefer it if you spoke to me." He growls, "I'm not in the mood to play games." "Yes." I whisper. I couldn't help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? "Why do you smell strange? And how is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me." "I..." I hated the question. "You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. It's rude to not look at them. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?" His deep voice sends a shiver through me. Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them, there was no way I was making eye contact."My Wolf abilities were bound," I mutter. Twice, I wanted to add. Twice my abilities were bound. But he probably wasn't interested in that part. He leans forward, I could feel him staring at me, "Why would someone do that?" If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. "It was a punishment." I whisper. It wasn't far from the entire truth. There's a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn't tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me "Neah, what are you doing in my office?" He turns to the crimson eyed man. "I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it's him. My brother spins around, hand poised to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He is taller than my brother, more muscly too. "Neah," My name rolls off of his tongue, "was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested." What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. "Go and get Beta Kyle." Alpha Trey seethes. "Tell him our guest is here." I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. "Beta Kyle," I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. "Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you." He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. "You're lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't see sunlight for a few days." Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn't speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn't last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. "Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating." I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. "Neah is your sister, correct?" Alpha Dane questions my brother. "She is." Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. "Why do you treat her like trash?" Straight to the point, my brother wouldn't like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. "Neah was responsible for our parents' death." Alpha Trey spits I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Responsible how?" Alpha Dane's voice rumbles through me. He was definitely angry. "She served them Wolfsbane." Don't make a sound. Don't make a sound. I knew Alpha Dane was studying me. They all did, no one could ever quite believe how someone could do something so disgusting as poisoning their own parents. I stood there, with my head hanging low, wishing for the ground to open up and suck me in. There are movements around me. He was standing directly in front of me. With a rough finger he tilts my face up towards his, forcing me to look at him. "You poisoned your parents?" "I was six." I splutter. "I just made them lemonade." My voice comes out all squeaky as I try to defend myself. I could barely remember my parents, but I could remember all the guilt I had been made to feel since that day. His crimson eyes flash to my brothers. "Hardly seems fair to blame a six year old." "A six year old should know the difference between plants." Alpha Trey snaps "Sounds to me like she was set up." Alpha Dane shrugs his shoulders, letting go of me. "You weren't there, Alpha Dane." My brother muttered through gritted teeth as his eyes narrowed to slits. "I didn't ask you here to talk about my slave!" Alpha Dane grabs his leather jacket from the chair. Unlike other Alpha's he seemed to dress more casually. A simple black tee and jeans covered his huge frame. And unlike other Alpha's, his arms are bare of tattoos, not a single bit of ink poked out anywhere. "You're right and now I have a few things to mull over." "I thought we agreed." My brother exclaims "Nothing has been signed. Now I will show myself out." The moment he is out of the office, both my brother and Beta Kyle round on me. "What the heck did you say to him?" My brother demands, slamming a hand into my stomach. "N...nothing. Well, he just asked me why I smelled funny." "Did you tell him?" Beta Kyle demands. He was practically spitting in my face. I hated him. I hated him so much that I had vowed to one day get my revenge and rip his stomach out through his mouth. "WELL?" My brother yells when I don't immediately respond and smacks me across the side of the head. My head involuntarily moves up and down. "But I didn't say it was you." I tried to sound strong and confident but it just comes out as a whisper. My brother's hand locks into my black hair as he yanks my head back, sending a shooting pain through my skull. "If you have ruined this, you won't see daylight again." He drags me by my hair from the office and down the hallway towards the basement door. "Please…." I beg. "He was an Alpha…I… I had to answer him." My cheeks burn with my tears as he flings the door open. On the other side of the door is Alpha Dane. He is leaning against the wall with his arms folded, staring out at us. My brother's hand falls from my hair, relieving the pressure on the back of my skull... "Alpha Dane, I thought you had left." Alpha Trey murmurs angrily. "I said I would show myself out. I thought I had found the door, but instead I find a basement, riddled in your sister's strange scent. Is this how you treat your family?" "As I said," my brother holds his ground, "She is responsible for the death of my parents, so yes, this is what she deserves." "You should keep your nose out of other packs' business!" Beta Kyle adds. Alpha Dane laughs. "If I agree to this deal, everything about your business becomes my business. So tell me, what would your punishment be for her? No food, locked away for a week, beatings?" Both Alpha Trey and Beta Kyle hold their tongues. There was no reason for him to defend me and yet he was. I was a nobody, no one special. Just who everyone called a traitor. Only instead of being given a death sentence, my brother had decided to make me spend my life suffering. I see those crimson eyes land on my swollen face. "I have a proposition for you, Alpha Trey." Alpha Dane speaks up again. "We have already agreed on terms." "Well, I'm adding one. And if you don't agree, you will not get my help. Instead, you will become my enemy. And we both know, you don't want that." "I take it that your new terms have something to do with her?" Alpha Trey mutters through clenched teeth. "You would be correct. Let me take her away to my pack and then you, Trey will have a deal." Me? Why would he want me? As my brother and his Beta discuss me, Alpha Dane is still studying me. His look made me nervous. What could someone like him possibly want with me? "Deal." Alpha Trey sticks out his hand for Alpha Dane to shake. He doesn't take it, instead his crimson eyes shift from me to my brother. "I will have paperwork drawn up and will return tomorrow." He reaches a hand out and cups my face, "Ensure you have everything packed." He drags his thumb across my bottom lip and strides to the opposite end of the hallway and straight to the front door. He knew exactly where the front door was, so what was he up to? He pauses at the door. "If I find out any one of you has laid a hand on her. The contract will be the last thing you need to worry about." He struts out, slamming the door behind him. After Dane leaves, my brother grabs me by the collar. "You think you're going to have a good life if you follow Alpha Dane out of here? Don't be naive!" He continues in a vicious voice. "He's the coldest man in the world, he's killed nine of his mates, I'm waiting to see what happens to you!"	LEARN_MORE	https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&	New world publications	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	3,809	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/t39.35426-6/480835410_1174210147738395_921820308608634928_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=BGStSNsYZK8Q7kNvgFPBS9W&_nc_oc=AdhGVxKuYFNOF20RX7hTB-l9P_7aYM4PT3JZdSU3MEXvu-RzP1r8wHe4gV_L_f0Hy4r1ina8iyhKiHLmHus7KTHe&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AV_NtvYjmUWcqLaL-TCvu7u&oh=00_AYDIQIr7reFgneanzMJTt-S1GWnxWrHYK0PuXBZQOJFJaA&oe=67CBACE7	PERSON_PROFILE	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,755,316	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 11:42	active	2770	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	Heat Novel A	https://www.facebook.com/100089743291944/	609	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=934080944896999&exdata=1A6334CBF30555EA64E3F1BA322B2277FD37798A40A6A97E	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475381428_621761677172349_6452895078556571295_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4UhEn4ucvTIQ7kNvgHcE9Iv&_nc_oc=AdgKtbkTtFyiNf5ox-zuoI-0zYXjX0nexBRe9wMQ-lHMrviTNY_-VsueKJHBL6s71oqFviVoMUz4kjocpj3XBkDg&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aq6lLJ9jqumfeh4iNpzGim_&oh=00_AYDJoqWp6f3qGmNF8mr06mJwWBg346cl0Lpo8RhHhw-u_w&oe=67CBC3EE	PERSON_PROFILE	Heat Novel A	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,754,850	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2754843}'	No	2025-03-03 11:42	active	2770	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	"Are... are you sure, Esther?" I ask with a broken voice. My heart races, filled with happiness. "Very sure, Luna. You're carrying a little wolf!" "Why haven't I been able to smell it, or his father?" I ask, worried. "It's very recent, perhaps that's why. Give it a few more days and you should be able to sense the pheromones." She replies, and I nod, my eyes blurred with tears. I am the Luna of the "Autumn Forest" pack. Three years ago, I married the man I love madly, despite not being destined mates, my Alpha Dorian. I've given everything to be the perfect Luna, the pillar he can lean on. However, a shadow looms over my marriage—the topic of an heir. I've never been able to get pregnant, and I admit I don't share the bed with Dorian as often. But I know his duties as Alpha keep him extremely busy and stressed. "Please, don't tell anyone in the pack. I want to surprise my husband." "Don't worry, Luna, I won't say anything. Congratulations!" She smiles at me, and I return the smile, overflowing with excitement and happiness. Despite being a foreigner, not originally belonging to this pack, ever since my parents died and the previous Alpha took me in, I've never felt rejected or looked down upon. That's why I've devoted myself fully to my duties as Luna. I'm grateful for my life and the wonderful man I'm married to. *** "What's with all this food? Is there going to be a party?" "Hands off!" I swat away the greedy claws of Sophia, my best friend, who sneaked in through the back kitchen door. "But wow, puff pastry tart and everything!" she says, sitting on a stool. Honestly, I may have gone a bit overboard with the dishes, but I'm so happy I want everything to be perfect. All my Alpha's favorite foods are ready! "Well, today is Dorian's and my anniversary. I want to celebrate with an intimate dinner," I say, turning back to the caramel on the stove. I don't hear her respond, so I turn halfway, curious. "What's wrong?" "N-nothing, nothing... I just heard the Alpha had an emergency today. Didn't he tell you?" she asks, and I frown. Actually, Dorian doesn't usually explain much about his work. I guess it's to avoid worrying me. "No, but he'll come back anyway. He knows today is special." I respond, completely convinced. She looks at me strangely. Lately, I can't quite understand her, but she's the first person who approached me in this pack and has always supported me. I value her greatly as a friend. "Sophie, there's something I want to tell you, but... I'll tell you tomorrow. It's very important to me," I say suddenly, wanting to share the good news with her, but not before confessing it to Dorian. "Really? Can't you tell me now?" she asks, gossip-mode activated, leaning over the counter while munching on a homemade cookie. "No, no. Tomorrow. I promise you'll be the second to know," I reply, and I can feel my happiness radiating from every pore. "Fine, I'll leave you with your mystery then. I've got things to do. Happy anniversary," she grumbles, frustrated I didn't spill the secret, and leaves the same way she came. I check the clock. There's still time. I take off my apron and head to the second floor to shower and get dressed nicely. Everything has to be perfect tonight, celebrating with my beloved mate. * I glance at the clock for the thousandth time, sitting on the sofa. It's past midnight, and Dorian hasn't arrived. I look at the cold dishes on the dining table and get up, resigned to reheating them again. I'm in the middle of that task when I hear the front door open and close. His delicious scent tingles my nose, warming my stomach. I glance at my burgundy dress, smoothing it out and fixing my hair in the hallway mirror. My jet-black hair is tied in a high ponytail, and my intensely blue eyes, highlighted with makeup, stare back at me. I step into the foyer, watching my imposing Alpha enter the door. "My love, how was your day? Lots of work, right?" I grab the coat he's holding to hang it up. I see him clutching some documents, but I assume they're pack matters. I move closer to kiss him, but he steps back. "I'm sweaty and dirty from the road. Don't contaminate yourself," he says, his piercing honey eyes staring at me—eyes I adore despite their constant coldness. It's just part of his nature. He carries too many responsibilities after inheriting the role so young when his father died. His blond hair is messily handsome, and for some reason, damp. I can even catch the scent of an unfamiliar shower gel. Why would he shower before coming home? And he said he was dirty, yet it's clear he just bathed. "S-sure, give me a second to reheat dinner. You must be hungry..." "I'm not hungry. Valeria, we need to talk." "But the dinner—" "Forget dinner. Let's go to the living room. I need to tell you something," his authoritative voice makes me tense. I follow him, starting to feel deeply worried. My hand slips into my skirt pocket, clutching the folded document stating I'm having his baby. "Why was the table so full of dishes? Were you planning a party?" he asks, glancing at the dining room. My heart clenches. "Love, I know you've been busy with pack duties. But... don't tell me you forgot our anniversary? Today marks three years since we mated," I say, sitting on the couch. I expect him to sit beside me, but instead, he chooses the armchair opposite. Dorian has never been overly affectionate, but tonight he's too distant. Too cold. An alarm goes off inside me. "Of course, I remembered. You have no idea how long I've been waiting for our third anniversary," he replies, but I don't see a trace of joy in his expression. I know everything will change with my news. Our relationship hasn't been great because of this. The pack elders keep pressuring him for an heir. When I tell him about the baby, he'll be happy. "I'll be quick because I can't stand this any—" "Wait! Wait, Dorian. Let me show you something first, and then you can tell me what you wanted to say," I interrupt him, feeling a strong premonition, I won't like his next words. Lowering my head, I take out the folded paper and hand it to him, my heart racing with emotion. He takes it, reading silently as I watch him, anxious, waiting for his joy to match mine. "I'm pregnant! I'm carrying your pup! We'll have an heir for the pack. I'm sure the Goddess has blessed us with a son!" I can't hold back and blurt it out directly. Tears in my eyes, I rise and move toward him, wanting to embrace him. But as in love as I am, even I can see this isn't the reaction I expected from the father of my child. "Are you sure about this, or is it just a trick to keep me tied to you?" he suddenly says, rising and pushing me away when I try to hug him. "Dorian... Of course, I'm sure. Look, that's the midwife's handwriting. Why would I lie about something so important? My love, what's wrong? What's happening, my Alpha?" "No, no. Damn it!" I watch him pace like a caged wolf around the living room. "This can't be happening. Not now!" "Dorian..." "Did you tell my mother? Anyone else?!" he asks suddenly, approaching me and gripping my shoulders tightly. "N-no, love. I was waiting to tell you first. I thought... you'd be happy. I know they've been pressuring you. Alpha, you don't have to be tense anymore. We'll have our family." I raise a trembling hand to caress his cheek, but he just stares at me with those golden eyes, silent. I can't figure out what's going on in his head. "You're right... I've been very stressed. I'm sorry," he suddenly pulls me into his arms, and I finally sigh, relieved, hugging him back tenderly. For a second, I feared he wasn't happy. "We'll get through this together, my Alpha. I'll be the perfect Luna so no one will judge you," I whisper, lifting my head. I want him to kiss me, to make love to me like we haven't in a long time. "Let's go for a run. A wild, unrestricted anniversary night." He suddenly suggests it, taking my hand and pulling me toward the back of our house, which borders the pack's forest. "Shift into your she-wolf," he commands, and I watch him undressing. He's so charming and strong. His hair glows under the moonlight, and I begin the transformation into my "she-wolf," one of the greatest lies and secrets of my life—something not even Dorian knows. * We run freely across the pack's lands. But I notice how we keep going farther and farther, even crossing the borders, yet I just follow Dorian's massive white wolf racing wildly ahead of me. We reach a remote place, at the edge of a deep cliff, but above us, the moon shines intensely, and the forest landscape stretches far below. "Where is this? We're outside our pack's territory... Aren't we trespassing on someone's land?" I gaze into the distance from the edge, mesmerized by the view, having already shifted back into human form, but no one responds. I feel uneasy and start to turn around. However, something inside me stirs with alarm. A crow caws in the distance—but it's already too late. "Do... Dorian, wha—?! Aaaaaahhh!" I scream as I feel wolf claws tearing into my abdomen, deeply ripping through me. Terrified and shocked by the sudden attack, I try to run. I attempt to shift back into my wolf to escape into the forest, away from whatever is happening, away from this rabid Alpha wolf whose blood-red eyes glare at me with pure hatred—but it's impossible to flee. "Ahhh! Let me go! Dorian, what are you doing?! What are you doing?! Ahhh! Help! Help!" I scream as he jumps on me when I try to escape. C2 THE WORST BETRAYAL VALERIA He bites my thigh viciously and drags me beneath his body, controlling me mercilessly. I try to resist, to call for help, my hands clutching my stomach, trying to protect my pup, but his claws, like deadly weapons, pierce my skin, tearing apart my small, vulnerable body. I have to raise my arms instinctively when his sharp claws aim for my face, and I scream in agony as a deep wound slices across my cheek from my forehead. Leaving my belly exposed, he struck our child. "Nooo, not the pup, please, Dorian, not our son!" Tears poured endlessly from my eyes as I begged him, but his canines tore through my flesh, and his claws dug into the depths of my insides with chilling cruelty, seeking to rip out the life growing inside me. I don’t know how long this agony lasted—I sobbed, pleading as long as I could speak. The pain in my entire body was unbearable, but worse was the pain in my soul, bleeding and shattered. I was discarded on the ground like trash, on the edge of a precipice, my consciousness nearly slipping away from the pain when I saw him shift into his human form. "You thought you could keep me tied to you forever?" he yelled furiously. His eyes were cold and disgusted, a look I had never seen before. "Did you really think I loved you, that I was dying to have a child with you? What a waste!" He kicked me with rage, but I no longer had the strength to even moan in pain. "Three damn years I've been separated from my mate because of you!" he roared, pouring out all the hatred he'd stored up over time. "Why…?" I barely managed to whisper, my face swollen, my tongue heavy, and my throat bleeding from a deep wound. "Because you came to the pack, the miserable orphan, and that old lady said you would give birth to the strongest Alphas, powerful enough to elevate my bloodline." "Pure nonsense from that crazy old hag, but my mother believed her and forced me to give up my mate for you because you were infatuated with me! She gave me three damn years—that was our deal. If you didn’t succeed, I’d be free." "So, today I come, ready to rid myself of an obstacle like you, and you say that you’re carrying my son," he laughed like a psychopath. "I won’t let you do it again, Valeria. You won't ruin my life again. This is the end for you!" He walked toward me, and I saw death staring me in the face. I wanted to say so many things... «I didn't know you already loved someone else. I was just a foolish, infatuated girl, but I never forced you to love me back. How could you deceive me, fake everything all this time? Our child… how could you… how could you do this…?!» I felt so powerless as I lay there, sobbing, bloody, and dying. I wished I could connect with his wolf, scream out this injustice, but I couldn’t—not even that. I didn’t have an inner she-wolf. I could only shift my body and pretend. Some said it was trauma from my adoptive parents’ violent death, where only I survived. Others claimed it was a curse, but I knew that wasn't true. I had never felt the presence of a wolf spirit within me. "Goodbye, dear wife. You don't seem so special after all," he said cynically, and with his foot, he kicked me over the cliff's edge. The last thing I knew was the sensation of falling into the cold void. I looked up at the dark sky as shadows of crows circled above my head, like messengers of death. "I'm so sorry, baby. I couldn't protect you." * "Why aren't her wounds healing properly?" "I can't waste the pack's blood on a stranger. Jake already did too much rescuing her from the rogue woods. She has to heal on her own." "Honestly, I don't even know how this woman is still alive. Poor thing… her body is horribly damaged, especially her belly… and her face." I heard voices talking nearby, hands examining me. An unbearable pain worse than death itself burned through my body, dragging me between consciousness and darkness. I don’t know how much time passed or where I was, but when I opened my eyes, I saw a white ceiling. I looked around and saw a small room, lying on a personal bed. "You're awake?" a female voice spoke suddenly beside me, and I saw an unfamiliar face. I tried to speak, but for some reason, I couldn't—it was as if my vocal cords refused to work. "Don't strain yourself. Stay calm. You… I don't think you can talk right now because of the wound on your neck," she explained with a troubled expression. And then, my foggy mind remembered—everything. The first thing I did was reach for my belly, trying to sit up despite the dizziness and searing pain. "Don't move! Wait, calm down, calm down!" she stopped me and eased me back down, but I needed to know—desperately—I had to know if a miracle had occurred. I looked at her intensely and then at my stomach, wrapped in thick bandages. "Yes… I understand what you're asking, but… I'm sorry… your belly was completely torn. Your womb was destroyed, and your pup… didn't make it. It was impossible to save him. We don't even know how you're still alive." I felt the tears pouring uncontrollably from my eyes. I closed them in pure agony, my soul shattering. My lips trembled, my entire body shook, and ragged sobs escaped my torn throat. Why did this have to happen to me? Why did everything around me have to turn into a nightmare? My baby, my pup was innocent. Why did something so horrible have to happen to him? "Calm down, please! You can't get like this! Aston, I need you here! Bring the sedative! Now, Aston, hurry!" "Aaaahh! Aaaahh!" I heard distorted screams, a cry so raw it could freeze the blood and shatter hearts. A desperate, broken woman wailed—and then I realized… it was me. That wretched woman who had lost everything… was me. * Days have passed. I know a man rescued me from the forest beneath the cliff. I'm staying in a small pack not far from Autumn Forest. With my hands still covered in wounds, I try to splash water on my face, but I can't even bear to touch my skin. I lift my head, and as I do every time that I face a mirror, I have to summon all my courage. My face, once beautiful and envied by many she-wolves, now bears a horrific scar running across my forehead and another deep one on my left cheek. Dorian not only destroyed my child's life, my womb, but he also scarred my face. It should have healed, but I know it won't. I don't possess the rapid healing ability of werewolves. Yes, I heal—but slower, and scars remain. I step outside the small room and hear the healer and the she-wolf who treated me speaking quietly. They're discussing how I've used too many resources and how they may have to ask me to leave soon since packs rarely welcome outsiders so easily. But the she-wolf argues that I’m still in terrible condition. I appreciate her care and empathy, but it won't be necessary to cast me out. I've already decided—I’ll leave tonight on my own. * Hours later, I walk through the dark forest like a lost soul, the damp bandages soaked with reopened wounds, bleeding. I don't care—my legs keep moving in a single direction. Hiding in the bushes, I watch the patrol line carefully. I know exactly how to slip past without being detected—I designed this defense rotation myself for Dorian. Like so many things I did for him and the pack. I slip away into the shadows, as quickly as my battered body allows. The night and darkness are my allies. It's as if they amplify my strange abilities. I hear voices, laughter, and lights in the distance—from the backyard of what had been my home for three long years. I walk as if in slow motion, wearing old sneakers and a worn-out dress that the she-wolf from the hospital gave me. "Ladies and gentlemen, I've gathered you all here today because I could no longer hide my happiness. I’m finally marrying my beloved mate, the woman of my life, my sweet Sophia, your future Luna." I feel like I'm falling into a cavern of ice as I watch them, smiling and kissing in front of those who once called me Luna. It was my "best friend" Sophia and my traitorous Alpha Dorian, celebrating their union while my body should have been rotting beneath that cliff if their plan had worked. Traitorous hypocrite! That woman was even wearing one of my evening dresses, made up with my things, stealing my life without a trace of remorse. She had deceived me all this time, just as I had been blind to everyone in this pack, and worse, to the man who lay beside me every night while thinking of another woman. Even the midwife who told me about my pregnancy was there! Dorian must have promised her something to keep her silent. I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms, my teeth chattering with rage. I waited, waited like the deranged psychopath I had become, watching their entire celebration until the lights went out and everyone left for their homes. * I climbed the stairs to the second floor, walked down the dimly lit hallway, but I could hear them perfectly—making love in the master bedroom. Her feminine moans slipped through the crack of the slightly open door. I saw myself pushing it open gently. The moonlight streamed in through the large window, illuminating that figure riding Dorian, her back facing the entrance. "Alpha, tell me I'm better than her… Mmm… Come on, Dorian, tell me I'm better than that frigid Valeria." "You're the best, baby… don't even compare yourself to that stiff. Do me in her bed, come on… wasn't that what you always wanted?" Their filthy words hit my ears, and it was the final trigger I needed for everything to spiral out of control in an instant. I lunged at them on the bed. C3 THE OWNER OF THE CASTLE VALERIA I hear piercing screams, the sound of shattering glass, a savage roar, an Alpha's growls, struggling, and fighting. Something hot splashes against my face and arms. My claws shred, and my canines teared. I can't stop. I can't. Rage consumes me from the inside, demanding release. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm not conscious of myself. All I know is that when I regain control of my body, the first thing I see is my red hands. I'm kneeling on the floor, everything around me drenched in red, wreckage, and pieces of what once was a powerful Alpha—Dorian. What have I done? What in the name of the Goddess have I done?! I stare at his severed head, lying just a meter away from me. Those honey-colored eyes still stare back at me in frozen terror, and I feel bile rising in my throat. I vomit to the side, unable to hold it back, disgusted by this scene of death and violence. Did I do all this? There's no one else here. I scan the area, not knowing where Sophia went. The only thing I'm sure of is that someone was thrown through the shattered glass window. I stand up on trembling legs, glance down, but all I see is the forest behind the house and bloodstains across the grass. "Don't let her escape! Sophia, stop crying and tell me clearly what happened!" Voices shouted, hurried footsteps ascending the stairs. It was my mother-in-law's voice. I had to get out of here. I had killed the Alpha, and only a painful death awaited me. Desperately, I looked down. It seemed I had thrown that wretch Sophia out the window. I decided to jump out myself, from the second floor. BAM! The door burst open during my hesitation, and my eyes locked with Anaís, my mother-in-law, the former Luna—Dorian's mother. I saw the shock, the pain, and the fury in her eyes as she took in the scene. "You miserable! You killed my son! You murdered my Dorian! Seize her! Restrain her! I'm going to tear her apart with my bare hands!" She screamed, and the warriors behind her charged at me. I jumped without thinking. "Aaagghhh!" I groaned in pain as I crashed onto the grass, rolling over, but I forced my body to shift into my wolf form and ran with all the strength I had left. I fled into the forest as fast as my weakened legs allowed, escaping death. I don't know if it was adrenaline or sheer will to live, but I ran like a madwoman through unfamiliar lands and tangled woods. Days passed that way, where I only stopped to rest when I was on the verge of collapse, drinking water from mountain streams and feeding on prey that somehow appeared dead before me. Yes, yet another strange thing about my life. The few times I dared to close my eyes, every time I woke up, a small dead animal lay in front of my muzzle. I devoured them without knowing if they were poisonous or where they came from—I just needed energy. All I could think about was surviving. One night, I felt them again. I thought they had grown tired of chasing my trail, but that wasn’t the case. The sound of multiple wolves' footsteps echoed not far away. Desperation and exhaustion consumed me—I couldn't keep running forever. I had been skirting the borders of various packs, trying not to get caught, but that wasn't a solution. "She's just ahead! I can smell her! She will pay for this!" I heard a snarl—already so close to my trail. I could practically feel the danger breathing down my neck as I pushed my legs and lungs past their limit. I was done. They were going to catch me after all this effort. Then I lifted my blue eyes and saw them—above me, a flock of crows. Cawing, circling over my wolf form, as if trying to lead me somewhere. And for some reason, I followed them. I followed their sign and ventured deeper into unfamiliar lands—into the forbidden forest where no one dared enter without an invitation. But I had nothing left to lose. If I was going to die, at least let it be quick and without torture. That's how I crossed through the mist, leading me to the Golden Moon pack, the territory guarded by the Guardians—the land ruled by the Lycan King. * I felt like no one was following me anymore. I had no idea how far I had gone into Golden Moon territory, but suddenly, several powerful warriors blocked my path, surrounding me. "Who are you, and why have you trespassed into our pack?" a massive gray wolf asked coldly, approaching me menacingly. The black wolf I shifted into, so small and fragile, would be considered an Omega—the lowest rank in the pack, the weakest, often reduced to servitude. That was why, when I became Luna, I had felt foolishly grateful to Dorian. "I'm only seeking refuge to rest… I’m sorry for entering your forest. Just a few days, please… I only need a few days to recover and leave." I pleaded, praying my pursuers wouldn't dare follow me here. "Where do you come from? Speak! Why did you cross the Forbidden Forest? No one comes here for no reason! Tell the truth, or I'll rip your head off right now!" He growled, shoving me with his shoulder. I let out a low whimper of pain, unable to resist. Before he could take further action or carry out his threats, darkness consumed my vision, and I felt my body collapse unconscious to the ground. Maybe this time, I wouldn't wake up again. * The next time I opened my eyes, I was in a dark, damp cell, wearing tattered clothes barely covering my battered human body. Only the Goddess knows how I'm still alive. It seems she wants me to suffer—slowly and torturously. BAM! The sound of a metal door slamming jolted me. "So, you're finally awake! Take her out!" A massive, bald, intimidating man ordered two guards, who dragged me out. It was that gray wolf. I didn’t even have the strength to walk, let alone resist. They took me to a small room where the questioning began—trying to dominate me with his Alpha presence. But it didn’t work. I had no inner wolf to submit. I spent hours there, sitting on a hard chair, my hands tied behind me with ropes cutting into my skin. No matter how much freezing water they threw at me, how much they shouted or threatened, I kept my story and waited to die. My head hung limply, eyes closed, exhausted. At least they hadn’t beaten me or done worse. I've heard horrible stories about this pack of barbarians. "Fine. Since you refuse to talk, you know what awaits you. I've given you the chance to confess." His dark eyes locked on mine, giving me his final warning, but I had nothing more to say. He drew a dagger, yanked my hair back, exposing my neck, ready to slit my throat. I saw hesitation in his eyes when my black hair fell away, revealing my hideous scars. Maybe I looked pitiful—but he had a job to do. And I was ready for it to end. The dagger lowered, and I resigned myself. But a knock on the door interrupted my death once again, sending my emotions from one extreme to the other. "Now what the hell…? M-Madam… I mean, Housekeeper, what brings you here?" His previously harsh voice turned nearly submissive. Curious, I looked toward the door and saw a short woman with blonde hair tied up neatly, elegant yet stern. "What were you doing here?" Her cold green eyes fixed on mine, and I lowered my head. "She’s an intruder. Pack business—" "You were going to kill her, weren’t you?" she accused. "M-Madam, can we discuss this outside? It's protocol with intruders—" I heard his words stop short as a pair of black boots entered the room, standing right before me. "What's your name, girl?" "Valeria," I whispered weakly. "Look at me when I speak to you!" she ordered, and I lifted my head. She has a superior, imposing aura, and honestly, I think she's more terrifying than the massive brute. "Tell me, Valeria, do you want to live or die? You can survive if you agree to work for me. If not, pretend you never saw me," she offered, leaving me stunned. "W-what kind of work would it be?" "Work for the Guardians, in the castle kitchen or wherever you're needed—as a maid. I offer you shelter and food in exchange, a new chance to live," she said without breaking eye contact. I hesitated, feeling like I was selling my soul to another ruthless ruler. The Guardians were the Lycans, and the worst of them all was their leader, Aldric, the "Specter Slayer," whom all werewolves considered their king, though he didn’t seem to care about the title. "I don't have all day. Are you coming or not?" she pressed. "Housekeeper, this woman is a stranger… how can she enter the castle with the Guardians? We don't know her intentions—" "I don't care why you entered these cursed lands. Your past stays behind if you accept my offer. But if you betray me or plot anything behind my back, slitting your throat will be the least of my punishments," the woman threatened, leaving me with only a second to decide. Live or die. Start anew in a strange place, possibly filled with more humiliation and suffering—or die now and end my miserable existence. "I'll go with you. I accept the job," I finally chose to survive. * The Golden Moon pack was located in a valley, surrounded by dense forest with thick fog, and perched atop a hill in the distance was an imposing ancient stone castle. We traveled there in a carriage, rolling along cobblestone streets. This pack was massive, far more powerful than my former one. I remained silent the entire way, my black hair always hiding the scars on my face, my head bowed, not wanting to draw attention. The enormous ebony doors opened, carved stone walls rising tall and powerful, with strange statues perched on the dark eaves. At last, we arrived at an inner courtyard, and I stepped down from the carriage with some discomfort. I stared at the looming castle, half-shrouded in mist, more nightmarish than inviting. "Come. I'll give you your uniform and show you your room," she ordered, and I followed her inside. The moment we crossed the entrance, we were greeted by a massive hall. A chandelier filled with candles hung in the center, illuminating the spiraling staircases that seemed to stretch endlessly upward. I was distracted for a moment, staring at the glossy black-and-white marble floor, when something seemed to fall from the ceiling. BAM! I stumbled back, startled, barely containing a scream of pure panic as a woman's corpse crashed at my feet. She was headless, and blood still gushed from her severed neck, staining the entire floor—and even my legs. The head rolled down next; lifeless eyes frozen in a horrified expression. I looked up, trembling, and at the top of the stairs, a pair of gray, lupine, savage eyes stared back at me for a few seconds, chilling my blood to the core. C4 TAKING OUT THEIR LOVERS VALERIA His entire demeanor screamed, I'm the damn master of everything here, the absolute ruler. I immediately lowered my head, trembling. It didn’t matter that I lacked an inner she-wolf— the power radiating from that man felt like it could suffocate you, crush your soul, and he wasn't even standing that close to me. He was a Lycan, the superior species of werewolves, the ultimate evolution, and I was almost certain this was the most powerful of them all—Aldric Thorne, the Lycan King. "Sasha, take out the trash and make sure my next personal maid isn’t a scheming one, or she'll lose more than her head," his deep, cold, and intimidating voice echoed, followed by the sound of footsteps retreating. "This is a disaster. That's the fifth one in two months. I don’t know what goes through these girls' heads. I warned them," the housekeeper muttered as she approached, pulling a small vial from the dead woman’s hand. "Another one who tried to please the King thinking she could be different and rise. Brainless. I'll call a servant to take her away. And your first task begins now—clean up this mess." And so, my work in the Lycan King's castle began. The first lesson I learned: never, ever try to mess with that dangerous man, or you'll end up headless. Unfortunately, I soon found myself on the razor's edge again. * Sasha introduced me to the staff, a group of she-wolves and wolves working in the castle, attending to the Guardians. They all stared at me as if they were looking at a monster. I didn’t care—I just wanted to keep existing and stay invisible. "The Guardians"—that’s what they called the five Lycans who lived in this ancient, dark castle. They enforced the laws of our world, or at least those affecting werewolves, maintaining balance with other supernatural creatures. They delivered justice, protection, and punishment—often in the most brutal, merciless ways. Especially the Lycan King. At least, that's what I had always heard. I was forbidden from climbing the stairs or wandering beyond the service quarters. And honestly, I didn’t plan to try. I focused on working and healing with the medicine the housekeeper gave me. The food here was good too. Except for the first day, I had gone three days without seeing any of the other Guardians. Until this morning. * "Hey, I heard the housekeeper saying she still hasn’t found a suitable candidate for the King's maid. Maybe she'll give us a chance." I was scrubbing the floor on my knees, listening to the whispers echoing through the castle's massive kitchen. My head stayed down, and my long black bangs nearly covered my eyes, helping to conceal the disfigurement on my face. My hands kept moving the cloth over the tiles, but ignoring the gossip was impossible. Suddenly, the room went silent. Heels echoed from the hallway, and tension filled the air— it was the housekeeper. "Stop what you're doing. I want all of you in a line," she ordered, her voice sharp. The cooks, maids, and even me—the lowly cleaner—all lined up like prisoners, standing side by side. She began her inspection, passing each trembling figure, heads bowed low. When her shadow passed in front of me, I thought she would move on. She didn’t. "What was your name again?" she asked. "Valeria, ma'am," I replied softly. Her cold finger pressed beneath my chin, forcing me to raise my head. My blue eyes met her intimidating green gaze. "Good. I think I'll try a different strategy this time. Come with me," she ordered, and a sense of dread twisted in my chest. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the stares from the other women in the line. Bitter glares filled with jealousy, anger, envy. Nothing good. That much was certain. "Listen carefully, Valeria. You're going to be King Aldric's personal maid," she dropped the bombshell casually, as if it were nothing, walking toward the other side of the kitchen. "Do you know how to cook, iron, organize a man’s things, his clothes, and so on?" "Y-yes, ma'am. But… I don’t think I'm the right choice for the position. Perhaps someone more—" "It's not optional," she cut me off, turning abruptly. "You either accept it, or you leave. I don't need a floor cleaner right now. I need a maid for the King. Understood?" I had no choice but to nod. Sometimes, I forgot that this harsh woman had saved my life. Though, honestly, I still didn’t know why—especially now that she was sending me straight into the Lycan's den. "Memorize everything I'm about to say. The King wakes up at… He doesn’t like… Prefers it this way… And his meals are only prepared by the cook from this section. Make sure it’s always her… And you must taste it before serving him." She paced through the kitchen, the laundry area, practically the entire service zone, listing the King's preferences and dislikes. I followed, my brain nearly short-circuiting from the overwhelming information. I need to write all this down later! "Alright. You'll deliver his first breakfast now. Do exactly as I tell you,” she said, placing a silver tray full of covered dishes in my hands. "And Valeria… remember, head down. Stay invisible. You're nothing but a piece of furniture." "And I trust you haven't forgotten the scene from your first day here. If you try anything against the King, believe me, he was merciful with that woman." Her warning made me swallow hard as I nodded. I didn’t consider myself a coward, but it felt like I was marching straight to the gallows as I climbed the forbidden stairs, moving through the dim candlelit corridors leading to the Guardian leader's quarters. I reached the only door in this wing—an enormous wooden door with intricate carvings—and tried to recall every instruction. "Don't knock at this hour. Go straight inside." So, I did. Balancing the tray carefully, I twisted the heavy doorknob. Step by step, I entered the den of the big bad wolf, avoiding unnecessary glances around. I immediately noticed the large wooden table at the center, the dim lighting, and I focused on setting the breakfast properly. But then I heard it—and smelled it. The scent of lust. Through my bangs, I glanced toward a black door, slightly ajar. Muffled female moans seeped through, despite being closed. More than one woman’s voice. The rhythmic sound of something hitting a wall echoed. Maybe the bed—I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. The most important rule: head down, stay invisible. Don't speak. Don't look. Don't listen. I was so focused on remembering every detail of his preferences, circling the table, that I didn’t even notice when the sounds stopped. "Who are you?" a dominant voice behind me made me flinch. My trembling fists tightened, and I turned, staring down at the gray rug. "Your Majesty, my name is Valeria. I am your new maid," I managed without stuttering. A massive shadow loomed over me, every instinct screaming danger, run—but I stood firm as he placed a finger beneath my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. I expected disgust at my scarred face. Instead, I saw fierce, intimidating gray eyes studying me—so captivating they resembled lethal steel. "Where's your inner wolf?" he asked, frowning. How had he noticed with just one glance? "I… I’m not entirely sure, sir. I suffered a traumatic experience before I turned eighteen, and her spirit never appeared. But… I can shift into my wolf form. Others say it's a curse." I added quickly, half-expecting to be dismissed on my first day. Scarred, cursed—what a perfect maid. "Is that why your face hasn't healed?" he asked, his voice calm but piercing. "I suppose so, sir. My healing is… slower than others." He said nothing, but his intense scrutiny made my skin crawl. Did I say the wrong thing? I avoided lingering on his rugged features, but it was becoming clear why so many women risked losing their heads just for a night in his bed. Aldric Thorne was a man built for sin. A towering figure, nearly two meters tall, with a powerful, scarred body, bold and commanding. Muscular, rough, impossibly attractive. And despite his icy aura, his long shoulder-length hair was deep crimson, just like his short beard—like fire, like blood he could spill without flinching. "I don't care about your peculiarities, but I do expect you to have understood the rules clearly because I won't tolerate disobedience or tricks," he warned me, his voice dangerously low and guttural. I nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes, your maje—" "And call me Sir. I don't like that Your Majesty nonsense," he clarified, finally releasing me and walking toward the other side of the room. I exhaled, realizing I had been holding my breath the entire time. Yet, I could still catch that scent lingering from his skin, something like aged wine—rich, and intoxicating. Could it be some cologne? I couldn't detect the pheromones of werewolves like others could. "They'll be here soon to collect those women. Make sure they leave and clean up everything," he ordered without even sparing me a glance, then disappeared through a door leading to what seemed like another room. I remained standing there in the dim light, frozen for a moment. Then, clenching my fists, I gathered my resolve and moved to deal with his lovers still in bed. I opened the door and stared in shock at the chaotic scene inside. The room was dimly lit, clothes strewn across the floor, and in the center, three women lay sprawled. The heavy scent filled the air, making it hard to breathe. "Umm… ladies, it's time to leave," I said softly, but none of them reacted, their eyes shut as if completely oblivious. They looked exhausted, their bodies marked with bites, bruises, and a mess of fluids staining their thighs. "The King ordered you to leave. You need to—" "Shut up, you annoying brat!" snarled the blonde lying in the middle of the two brunettes, even throwing a pillow at me, which I narrowly dodged. Well, they still have some energy left, it seems. Okay, this wasn’t going as smoothly as I had imagined, and they were already settling back down as if planning to sleep there. Aren't they uncomfortable covered in all that… stuff? But I couldn't fail my first task. I knew he had done this on purpose—to test me. I headed to the bathroom, filled a basin with cold water, and placed it near the bed. Rolling up my sleeves, exposing my pale arms, I then walked over to the massive crimson curtains, grabbed the heavy fabric, and yanked them open with force. "Aaaahh! Close it, right now! Close the curtain!" they screeched like the possessed, even though the sky was overcast. The sun never really shone brightly here—this land was always cloaked in thick fog. Grabbing the basin, I lifted it and—splash! —drenched them in icy water to snap them out of it. "Have you lost your damn mind, maid?!" C5 THE KING'S MAID VALERIA "Aahh, it’s horrible, she’s deformed!" "You’re just jealous, that’s why you want to keep us away from the King!" "The Lord has said you must leave now," I repeated impassively, while they hurled insults at me. But I felt nothing—not cold, not heat. I thought about how to get them out since, weakened or not, there were three of them and only one of me. Just then, loud knocks echoed from the side door leading to the hallway, a door I hadn’t even noticed before. It had to be the person sent to remove them from the castle. I walked over and opened it, revealing two sturdy servants who entered without a word. The women began to resist, screaming that their bodies were only for the King, threatening that our heads would roll. I didn’t need to be here long to see through their lies. That man had used them like disposable objects and was now discarding them like trash. The blonde rushed toward the door leading to the dining hall, but I stepped in front of her, standing firm and blocking her way. "Have some dignity and leave already. The King has ordered it. Don’t risk dying." "I want him to tell me himself! Last night, he showed me otherwise! Get out of my way!" she lunged at me, baring her fangs. I defended myself, grabbing her arms mid-air as we struggled. Her long claws scratched me in her fury, and I knew I could control her because, right now, she was weak. This she-wolf was stronger than me—honestly, anyone was stronger than me. With the help of the servants, we managed to drag the last crazed woman out of the room. I shut the door, breathing heavily. "Quite the first day on the job," I muttered in resignation, staring at the disaster I now had to clean. * I wiped the sweat from my forehead, taking a moment to catch my breath, surveying the nearly tidy room. The worst part was the bed. Even after removing the dirty sheets, I had gone overboard with the water. So, I thought of pushing the mattress closer to the window to let it air out and catch some sun. "Mmnn," I grunted, yanking at the heavy king-size mattress, my hands trembling. I doubted I could move it. I kept struggling when— "How many centuries does it take you to organize a room?" His voice startled me—I hadn’t heard him enter. I turned to apologize, but a wrong step, my nerves, and apparently a sticky substance I’d left on the floor caused me to lose my balance and fall forward. By instinct, I grabbed onto the first thing I could, falling to my knees with my eyes shut tight. Something had slipped from my hands, and now another thing, thick, brushed against my nose. A dark, musky, intoxicating scent assaulted my senses. When I opened my eyes again and saw the sight before me, I wished I could die right there without needing him to kill me. In my hands was a black towel—I assumed it had been around the King's hips—and I was on my knees, clutching his powerful thighs, with a massive, veiny member right in front of my wide eyes. «Girl, this could make you cry» was the first thing that crossed my mind in my nervous breakdown. And to think it was only half... not even Dorian’s compared in detail. "Should I fetch a tape measure so you can size it up too?" His cold voice snapped me out of my frozen state. Terrified, I raised my gaze to see him completely naked, in all his glory, his burgundy hair loose and tousled, damp from the shower, and I could swear his gray eyes held a mocking glint. "Your Majesty, I’m so sorry! Please, spare the life of this humble servant who doesn’t deserve your mercy!" I threw myself to the ground, pressing my forehead against the hard surface, begging him. What I had done was unforgivable. By the Goddess, I had even stayed there... staring at it. His threatening shadow loomed over my trembling body. I clenched my eyes shut, bracing for the end. "I’ll leave right away... I beg you... I’ll leave the castle... please..." "I don’t have the patience to find a new servant every day. You leave when I decide so. Now get up." His deep voice rumbled close to my ear, and I felt him tugging at the towel I still clutched in my hands. I released it immediately, sweat trailing down my back as my entire body trembled. "Besides, if you’re going to serve me, it won’t be the last time you see it. It’s not a big deal. Come to the dining room," he added before his bare footsteps echoed away from the room. Swallowing nervously, I stood on shaky legs. «Come on, Valeria, focus, please. » "Try the breakfast," he ordered, gesturing to the food set on the table. He sat, dominating the large chair, observing my every move. I picked up the fork and cut a small piece from each dish, tasting everything bite by bite. "If something is not to your liking, I can ask the kitchen to—" "That won’t be necessary. Everything’s fine," he interrupted and then fell silent. I kept my gaze on the floor, unsure of what he was waiting for, frantically reviewing every rule in my mind. "Do you think I’m a savage who eats with his hands?" "What? No, no, Your Maj... Sir..." I quickly lifted my gaze and saw him glancing at the fork still in my hand. Holy Goddess, I had covered the only utensil with saliva! The housekeeper hadn’t mentioned I had to taste the food here too! "I... I’ll get another, I’m so sorry—" "You seem to apologize well," he said as he took the fork from my hand. "It’s dirty, I... I ate with it—" I didn’t finish because he wiped it with a napkin and began eating calmly. I stepped back, standing in the corner, awaiting his orders. Through my bangs, I occasionally stole glances at him. He looked relaxed wearing just the towel, eating and reviewing some documents beside him. No matter what the Lycan King did, his aggressive aura filled the entire space, demanding only obedience and submission. This was my new master. And honestly, I was starting to wonder if I’d be better off running far away from this castle... and this pack. Aldric Thorne was the most dangerous thing I could have crossed paths with. *** Days passed, and despite my rookie mistakes, I managed to survive. The Lord wasn’t constantly present at the castle either—he often traveled between packs or faced dangerous situations. I hadn’t even seen the other “Guardians” until one morning. "Phew, I honestly don’t know how you handle the pressure and temptation," said Juliette. She was the only staff member who had approached me. An extroverted, cheerful girl. I didn’t consider her a friend, though—I'd never trust a woman like that again. But at least her chatter kept me entertained. We were walking through the underground corridor carrying laundry baskets when a side door leading to one of the many training gyms opened. A massive Lycan emerged. I knew by the powerful aura he projected. We immediately lowered our heads, waiting for him to pass, but his steps approached us instead. "Are these clean towels?" asked a strong but calm male voice. "Yes, yes, Sir," I answered, realizing I was the one carrying them. I glanced up for a second. Enchanting golden eyes stared back at me. I quickly lowered my gaze to the carpet and handed him a towel, but as he reached out, our fingers brushed for a moment. His touch was warm. Despite being intimidating, this Lycan projected a protective aura—not as sharp and wild as the King's. "I’m sorry... I’m so sorry—" "Relax, it’s fine. Thank you," he replied, taking the towel and walking away down the hallway. And then I dared to look at his back. Blond hair, massive like all Lycans, powerful, his muscular, sweaty back glistening, dressed in black combat gear. It seemed like he had been training. For some reason, the combination of his eyes and hair reminded me a bit of Dorian. I didn’t want to remember him at all, but the mind could be a traitor. He had been the first—and only—man I’d loved. "Right? He’s so handsome! I mean, they’re all attractive and hot, but for me, the best ones are the King and Guardian Quinn... Though the King, ugh, that man is pure fire. I’m torn—what do you think, Valeria? Would you prefer the King or Quinn?" Before I could scold her for talking so carelessly, her face turned pale, staring behind me in panic. A powerful presence pressed against my back, hot breath brushing against my ear. "I’d like to know too, Valeria. Who would you prefer? And why did you let another man touch what’s mine?" The basket in my hands begins to tremble along with my hands. I'm done for. And even though I know he’s talking about the towels, for some reason, it feels like he’s talking about me. "Ss… Sir..." "Get out!" he ordered Juliette, who looked at me for a second with guilt but had no choice but to flee almost running. I remained with my back to him. Could I run too? "I'm still waiting, Valeria. Tell me, are you unhappy with the position you were given? Would you prefer to be Quinn's personal maid instead? Turn around!"	LEARN_MORE	https://befant.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18151&u	Galaxy in the Story	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	2,490	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	befant.com	VIDEO		https://befant.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18151&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475997137_2038539749980401_1004047635302946383_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=0b8eTOXjXQwQ7kNvgHG73b9&_nc_oc=Adh70xGnDlWdLTuRUdOR-cLiR0-gMO01HWsRhct2aW-In5AEcP2c1ee_eDTgXiWiVT81MPJUqpXuQlkHNLr44AYH&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ac8tOEMADfD3l-pNFYc_Zzd&oh=00_AYCzXb5d2Qn_anYThMAdYwo5OrQV00m4H1r0mGxh79_img&oe=67CBCDDB	PERSON_PROFILE	Galaxy in the Story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,755,565	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2754982}'	Yes	2025-03-03 11:42	active	2770	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	One day, Wendy discovered that her husband Stanley was having an affair. He had been seeing a college student. It was Stanley's birthday. Wendy had prepared a table full of dishes early in the day. Just then, she heard a notification from his phone. Ding! He had left his phone at home. Wendy switched it on and saw a text from the college student. [I hurt myself when I was carrying the cake. It hurts so much.] Attached was a selfie—not of the sender's face, but of her legs. The girl in the photo wore pulled-up white socks, black leather shoes, and a blue-and-white skirt that had been pushed up to reveal her long, slender legs. Her pale knees were visibly reddened from the bump. The youthful, vibrant image of her body paired with coquettish words exuded a forbidden allure. People often say successful businessmen like Stanley favored this type of woman when choosing mistresses. Wendy clutched the phone tightly, her fingers turning white from the pressure. Ding! Another text came from the college student. "Mr. Hawk, see you at Cloud Hotel tonight. I want to celebrate your birthday!" So, his mistress wanted to celebrate his birthday tonight. Wendy grabbed her bag and headed straight to Cloud Hotel. She had to see for herself who this college student was. She soon arrived at the hotel, ready to go in. Just then, she saw her parents, Harry and Lilian at the entrance. Surprised, she walked up to them. "Dad, Mom, what are you doing here?" she asked. Harry and Lilian, caught off guard, exchanged a glance before responding to her hesitantly. "Wendy, your sister's back in the country. We brought her here," Harry said. 'Jessica?' Through the hotel's gleaming floor-to-ceiling windows, Wendy spotted her sister Jessica and immediately froze. Jessica was wearing the exact same blue-and-white skirt from the photo in Stanley's phone. The college student was none other than her own sister! Jessica had always been a beauty, known as the 'Red Rose of Hovendale,' and she was famed for having the most beautiful legs in town. Many men had been captivated by her charm. And now, her darling sister was using those legs to seduce her husband. Wendy found it laughable. She turned to her parents and said coldly, "So I'm the last to know?" Harry gave a sheepish smile. "Wendy, Mr. Hawk doesn't even like you." "Exactly, Wendy," Lilian chimed in. "Do you know how many women in Hovendale are dying to be with Mr. Hawk? Better to let Jessica have him than some other woman." Wendy clenched her fists. "Dad, Mom, I'm your daughter too!" Turning on her heel, she started walking away. Lilian called after her. "Wendy, tell me—has Mr. Hawk ever touched you?" Wendy stopped in her tracks. Harry's voice turned sharp. "Wendy, don't act like we owe you anything. Three years ago, when Stanley and Jessica were Hovendale's golden couple, everyone thought they'd get married. But then Stanley got into a car accident and went into a coma. That's the only reason we had you marry him instead." Lilian gave Wendy a disdainful once-over. "Look at yourself, Wendy. In the past three years, you've turned into a housewife who revolves around her husband. Meanwhile, Jessica became the principal ballerina of her company. She's a white swan, and you're just an ugly duckling. What do you have to compete with Jessica? Just give Mr. Hawk back to her already." Every word felt like a knife into Wendy's chest. Tears filling her eyes, she walked away. - Back at the villa, night had fallen. Wendy had sent the maid Mathilda home, so the house was empty, dark, and cold. She sat alone at the dining table. The once-warm meal had gone cold. The cake she had carefully prepared had 'Happy Birthday, Honey' written on it in frosting. It was glaringly ironic, just like her existence—a complete joke. Stanley and Jessica had been the golden couple of Hovendale, with Jessica as Stanley's cherished 'Red Rose.' But three years ago, a sudden car accident left Stanley in a vegetative state and Jessica disappeared entirely. That was when the Crone family brought Wendy back from the countryside and forced her to marry Stanley in Jessica's place. Wendy had agreed willingly when she found out it was Stanley—the man she had loved all along. For three years, Stanley remained in a coma. During those years, Wendy devoted herself to caring for him. She stayed by his side, gave up socializing, and focused solely on nursing him back to health, living as a dutiful housewife. In the end, her efforts paid off. Stanley woke up. Wendy lit the candles on the cake. The flickering glow illuminated her reflection in the nearby mirror—a plain housewife in a dull black-and-white dress, devoid of charm or excitement. Meanwhile, Jessica, now a successful ballerina, was young, vibrant, and beautiful. Wendy was an ugly duckling, while Jessica was the white swan. After waking up, Stanley abandoned the ugly duckling and returned to the white swan's side. Wendy let out a bitter laugh. This wasn't love; it was self-delusion. Stanley had never loved her, but she had loved him. The first one to fall in love always lost. Today, Stanley had made her lose completely. Tears welled in her eyes as she blew out the candles, plunging the villa back into darkness. Just then, two bright headlights pierced through the night. Stanley's car sped up the driveway and came to a halt on the lawn. Wendy's eyelashes quivered. He had come back. She had thought he wouldn't return tonight. The villa door opened and Stanley stepped in, carrying the cool air of the night with him. Stanley Hawk, the heir of the Hawk family, had been a business prodigy from a very young age. By 16, he had earned dual master's degrees from Harfield. Later, he took Hawk Group public in Hawthorne, making a name for himself internationally before returning home to lead the company as Hovendale's wealthiest man. Stanley walked in. "Why didn't you turn on the lights?" he asked in a deep, magnetic voice as he turned on the wall lamp with a click. The sudden brightness made Wendy blink. When her eyes adjusted, she looked at him. Dressed in a custom-tailored black suit, Stanley exuded a cold, aristocratic elegance that left countless socialites dreaming of him at night. "It's your birthday," she said. Stanley's handsome face remained indifferent as his gaze swept lazily over the dining table. "Don't waste your time on this again. I don't celebrate such occasions." Wendy smiled faintly. "Is it that you don't celebrate, or you just don't want to celebrate with me?" Stanley glanced at her, his gaze impassive. "Think what you like." With that, he turned around and started up the stairs. He had always been like this—distant and cold. No matter what she did, she could never warm his heart. Wendy stood and called after him. "It's your birthday today. I have a gift for you." However, Stanley didn't stop or turn around. "I don't need it." Wendy let out a soft chuckle and said, "Stanley, let's get a divorce." Stanley froze mid-step, one foot already on the staircase. He turned around, his deep black eyes locking onto her. Chapter 2 Wendy was also staring at him. Her tone was light but firm as she repeated, "Let's get a divorce, Stanley. Do you like your birthday gift?" Stanley didn't bat an eyelid. "You're asking for a divorce just because I didn't celebrate my birthday with you?" "Jessica has returned, hasn't she?" At the mention of Jessica, Stanley's thin lips curled into a faint, mocking smile. He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Are you bothered by Jessica?" Stanley, known as the youngest business prodigy alive, exuded an aura of power, wealth, and status. As he approached, Wendy instinctively stepped back, her slender back pressing against the cold wall. Her vision went dark as Stanley leaned in. He propped one hand against the wall beside her, trapping her between his firm chest and the wall. Looking down at her with his deep, striking eyes, Stanley sneered. "Everyone in Hovendale knows Jessica was the one I intended to marry. Weren't you aware when you schemed to replace her and became Mrs. Hawk? You didn’t mind then, so why act all self-righteous now?" Wendy's face turned pale. Yes, Stanley had wanted to marry Jessica. If not for the accident that left him in a coma, how could Wendy have married him? She would never forget the day he woke up. The disappointment and coldness in his eyes when he saw her was devastating. Since then, they had lived in separate rooms. He never touched her. He loved Jessica. Wendy had always known this, but... She gazed deeply at Stanley's face, the grown man overlapping in her mind with the young boy from years ago. 'Stanley, do you really not remember me?' It turned out she had been standing in place all along, waiting for someone that no longer existed. It was enough. These three years were just her one-sided effort to cherish him. Suppressing the ache in her heart, Wendy said softly, "Stanley, let's end this loveless marriage." Stanley's brows arched sharply, and his deep, magnetic voice could be heard. "Loveless?" He raised his hand, gripping her delicate chin, his thumb brushing against her crimson lips in a provocative motion. "Is that why? Are you asking for a divorce because of that? Do you want it that badly?" Wendy's delicate face flushed red like a ripe berry, vibrant and tempting. That wasn’t what she meant! Yet his thumb lingered on her lips, pressing and toying with them. She hadn't expected such a composed and distinguished man to have such a teasing, roguish side. Stanley was seeing Wendy up close for the first time. She usually dressed in monotonous black-and-white outfits, paired with oversized black-framed glasses, presenting herself like an old maid. But up close, he realized her face was barely the size of his palm, and her delicate features exuded a quiet elegance beneath those glasses. Her dark pupils were stunningly beautiful. Her lips were soft, their plush surface springing back with a subtle elasticity wherever his thumb pressed. It stirred an unbidden thought. Stanley’s gaze darkened. "I didn’t expect you to be so eager. You’re that desperate for a man, aren’t you?" Slap! Wendy raised her hand and slapped him across the face. Stanley’s handsome face tilted to the side from the impact. Wendy’s fingers trembled with anger. She realized that loving someone too humbly only led to her dignity being trampled on. He had actually humiliated her. Furious, she declared, "I know you’ve never stopped thinking about Jessica. Fine, I’ll fulfill your wishes and return Mrs. Hawk’s title to her!" Stanley’s face instantly darkened, frosty and sullen. A man of his stature had never been slapped before—never! His sharp gaze locked onto her. "Wendy, you married me when it was convenient for you, and now you want a divorce just because you feel like it. What do you take me for?" Wendy let out a soft chuckle. "A plaything." "What?" Stanley’s expression stiffened. Wendy forced herself to endure the pain in her heart and said what she knew would hurt him. "You’re just a toy I took from Jessica. I’m done playing, so I’m tossing you aside." Stanley’s expression turned grim, his mood darkening to the point where it could drip with venom. "Fine! Wendy, you’re something else. Let’s divorce, but don’t come crying back to me, begging for reconciliation!" He stormed upstairs, slamming the study door shut with a deafening bang. Wendy felt as though all the strength had been drained from her body. Slowly, she slid down the wall, crouching on the carpet. Hugging her knees, she whispered to herself, 'Stanley, I won’t love you anymore.' - The next morning, Mathilda entered the study. Stanley was seated at his desk, reviewing documents. He was a notorious workaholic. "Sir," Mathilda greeted Stanley cautiously. Stanley didn’t even look up. His icy aura hinted at his foul mood. It felt cold being around him. Mathilda carefully placed a cup of coffee by his hand. "Sir, this coffee was made by Mrs. Hawk." Stanley’s pen paused mid-air, his cold expression softening slightly. Was she trying to make amends? Truth be told, Wendy was an excellent wife. She cooked to his preferences, hand-washed his clothes, and meticulously managed his daily needs. Stanley picked up the coffee, taking a sip. It was her coffee—the taste he liked. But he was still angry. She had slapped him last night, and he wasn’t about to let that go easily. A single cup of coffee wouldn’t suffice as an apology. "Did she admit she was wrong?" Stanley asked. Mathilda glanced at him hesitantly. "Sir, Mrs. Hawk has left." Stanley froze, looking up at Mathilda. She handed him a piece of paper. "Sir, Mrs. Hawk left this with her suitcase and asked me to give this to you before she left." Stanley unfolded the paper. The words 'Divorce Agreement' caught his eye. His expression darkened. He thought she was trying to reconcile. Mathilda added cautiously, "Sir, Mrs. Hawk asked you to finish the coffee before signing the divorce papers." Stanley glared at the coffee. "Throw it out! All of it!" 'Sir, you seemed to like the coffee just fine a moment ago. Why don't you anymore?' Mathilda thought to herself. Without saying another word, she quickly left with the coffee. Stanley’s face was a thunderstorm, his mood in turmoil. He skimmed through the divorce agreement. She wasn’t asking for a penny—she intended to leave with nothing. Stanley scoffed coldly. It was bold of her to act like she didn’t need his money. How would a country girl like her survive without it? It was then that his gaze landed on the reason for divorce, handwritten by Wendy herself. "Due to my husband’s physical dysfunction, he cannot fulfill his marital obligations." Stanley froze, his handsome face turning completely dark. 'That woman!' He grabbed his phone and dialed Wendy’s number. The line connected, and Wendy’s voice came through clearly. "Hello?" Chapter 3 Stanley's thin lips curved into a frosty arc. "Wendy, get back here immediately!" Wendy chuckled. "You expect me to come back just because you said so? We're divorced, Stanley. I'm not going to continue indulging you!" Stanley clenched his jaw. "I'll give you a chance to rewrite the reason for divorce!" Wendy's tone grew more playful. "Did I write anything wrong? Stanley, it's been six months since you woke up, hasn't it? Yet, in these six months, you haven't even held my hand. You were in a coma for three years, and although you're physically healthy now, I have legitimate reasons to believe you've developed functional problems. You're not potent anymore! Better hurry to find an experienced naturopath. As our parting gift, I wish you an early recovery of your manhood!" Stanley was rendered speechless. The veins on his forehead were visibly twitching. This woman was out of control. "Wendy, I'll make you regret this! You'll know what I'm capable of sooner or later!" "Sorry, but you'll never get the chance!" "Wendy!" The call abruptly ended with two cold beeps. He hadn't even had time to explode in anger before hearing the disconnected tone. 'Wendy…!' - Wendy had already arrived at her best friend Cecelia Sunder's apartment. After she hung up the phone, Cecelia burst out laughing and gave her a big thumbs-up. "Wendy, that was amazing! Stanley must be so furious, he's spitting blood right now." Wendy reflected that she had been too humble in the past, which had allowed him to act superior to her for so long. 'Love yourself first. A woman must always prioritize self-love.' "Three years ago, when Jessica learned Stanley went into a coma after the car accident, she immediately ran away. Now that he's awake, he's crawling back to her? What a joke! You're better off without a man like that," Cecelia commented. Wendy unwrapped a candy and popped it into her mouth. The sweetness seemed to mask the bitterness in her heart. "That's how you tell if you're loved or not, Cecelia." Those who were loved were fearless. Those who weren't lived in constant insecurity. Cecelia noticed Wendy had already gone through a pile of candies. She pulled Wendy to her feet. "Wendy, cheer up! When you give up one tree, you'll discover an entire forest waiting for you. Tonight, I'm booking eight male hosts to celebrate you becoming single!" Wendy covered her forehead and laughed. Cecelia suddenly snatched Wendy's black-rimmed glasses off her face, tossing them into the trash. Wendy tried to retrieve them. "My glasses—" Cecelia stopped her. "Wendy, you've been in academic research for too long, and you've gotten used to wearing these glasses. But you should take a page out of Jessica's book and doll yourself up." Wendy thought about how her parents had always told her she was an ugly duckling while Jessica was a swan. It wasn't just her parents—Stanley must have thought the same. In his eyes, she was just an ugly duckling too. Cecelia dragged Wendy to the door. "Come on, we're going shopping! Hair, nails, clothes—everything! I want Stanley and everyone else to see how stunning you can be!" As they walked out, Cecelia suddenly remembered something. "Oh, Wendy, are you really not taking any money from Stanley after the divorce?" "I have my own money," Wendy replied. "Letting Jessica spend Stanley's money instead? Jessica says thank you!" Cecelia teased. Wendy didn't know what to say to that. "What about the card Stanley gave you?" Cecelia pressed. Stanley was always generous and had given Wendy a premium black card. However, she had never used it. Wendy pulled the black card out of her purse and winked playfully. "Today, I'll splurge—and let Stanley foot the bill." - That evening, at 1996 Bar. 1996 Bar was Hovendale's playground for the rich, where young heirs and the city's elites spent extravagantly. The music was never-ending, and the dance floor was wild. In a luxurious and dimly lit booth, Stanley sat in the center of a leather sofa. Tonight, he had on a black shirt paired with black trousers. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his toned forearms and a steel watch worth millions. His aristocratic, striking features made him the center of attention, drawing glances from countless women in the bar. Beside him was his close friend, Benny Gondale—the heir of the Gondale family—and several other young elites. Benny laughed. "Stanley, are you serious? Wendy wants a divorce?" The others laughed along. "Everyone knows Wendy loves Stanley to the bone. When he was in a coma, she insisted on marrying him. There's no way she'd actually go through with a divorce." "Let's bet on it. How long do you think Wendy can hold out before begging Stanley to take her back?" Benny smirked. "I bet she can't even make it through tonight. She's probably already sent Stanley a message." Stanley's chiseled features remained cold and sharp, his mood clearly sour. He pulled out his phone and opened WhatsApp to check their chat history. The last message from Wendy was from last night. She had sent a photo of the broth with the caption, [Honey, even though your bone density is back to normal, you should still drink this broth regularly. Don't come home too late!] As he scrolled up, he saw countless similar messages—all from Wendy. She messaged him every day. He had never replied. Not once. Today, the chat was silent. Stanley felt a vague sense of irritation. Ding! A notification popped up. "See? I told you—Wendy messaged you!" Benny immediately exclaimed. Ding, ding, ding! Several more notifications followed in quick succession. The group burst out laughing. "We knew it—Wendy couldn't hold out! But we didn't expect her to cave so fast." "Stanley, open them. Let's see how Wendy is begging you to reconcile," Benny urged. Stanley's sharp eyebrows lifted slightly. Did she really send a message? If she regretted it so quickly, why did she make such a fuss this morning? He tapped on the notifications, only to freeze. Benny leaned over and read aloud, "Dear VVIP customer, your card ending in 0975 has been charged 800 at Dazzling Nail Salon." The group collectively frowned. Stanley scrolled further. 2,000. 86,000. 240,000. There were no messages about reconciliations, only transaction notifications. The group fell silent, feeling like Wendy had slapped them all hard in the face. Stanley's expression darkened and he slammed his phone onto the table. He didn't care how much money Wendy spent. What bothered him was that she had gone on a shopping spree right after their divorce. This woman was something else! The once submissive Wendy, who had clung to him for three years, now seemed to have grown fangs. "Stanley, what's Wendy up to? She's gone to do her nails and hair, and buy clothes. Is she trying to imitate Jessica?" Benny commented. "Jessica is Hovendale's Red Rose. Wendy's just a country bumpkin. No matter how hard she tries, she'll only be a pale imitation." "A swan is a swan. An ugly duckling will always be an ugly duckling." Everyone laughed at Wendy. Suddenly, there was a commotion in the bar. All eyes turned toward the entrance. Someone gasped, "Look—an angel just walked in!" Chapter 4 Wendy arrived. After finishing their shopping spree at the mall, Cecelia brought Wendy directly to 1996 Bar. Tonight, she was determined to throw a celebration party for Wendy. Wendy hadn't expected to run into Stanley and his friends here, but she could hear their mocking remarks. She recognized Benny and the others in the luxury booth. They were part of Stanley's circle, and Benny was Stanley's close friend. Back when Stanley had a whirlwind romance with Jessica, they were all fans of Jessica, with Benny even regarding her as Stanley's future wife. Over the past three years, Wendy had never truly integrated into their group. None of them ever accepted her. The labels they plastered on her were always the same: desperate substitute bride, ugly duckling, country bumpkin, and the like. When a man didn't love you, his friends wouldn't respect you either. Cecelia, already fuming, rolled up her sleeves, ready to confront them. "I'm going to tear their mouths apart!" Wendy quickly held her back. "Cecelia, forget it! We're divorced now—there's no need to stoop to their level." Seeing Wendy's calm and indifferent demeanor, Cecelia reluctantly held back her temper. Then, as more and more people began to notice Wendy and exclaimed, calling her an angel, Cecelia's mood improved. "Wendy, let's go. Time to party." Cecelia dragged Wendy to another luxury booth and waved her hand grandly. "Bring all the male hosts from 1996 Bar over here!" Meanwhile, back at Stanley's booth, Benny and the others continued to mock Wendy. That was when they felt an icy and sharp gaze fall upon them. Looking up, they saw Stanley lazily lifting his cold gaze to glare at them. His expression was chilling, displeased, and full of warning. The men stopped laughing, and they immediately shut up, not daring to speak ill of Wendy again. Benny glanced at Stanley. Although Stanley had never paid much attention to Wendy, she had, after all, cared for him diligently for three years. It seemed Stanley still held some regard for that. At that moment, the commotion around them grew louder. "Wow, what a stunning angel!" 'An angel? Where?' Following the direction of the crowd's gaze, Benny looked ahead and was instantly dumbfounded. "Holy crap, she really is an angel." The other rich young men were equally astonished, their eyes glued to her. "When did such a stunning angel begin existing in Hovendale? How have we never seen her before?" Benny nudged Stanley. "Stanley, look! It's an angel." Stanley, who had no shortage of women around him, wasn't interested. He had seen all kinds of women—slim, curvy, and everything in between. He had no intention of looking, but Wendy's booth happened to be right across from theirs. When Stanley glanced over, he saw Wendy. Without her black-framed glasses and her usual dull, conservative attire, she revealed a delicate, fair face, her naturally exquisite bone structure, and ethereal beauty shining through. Her long, glossy black hair flowed gracefully over her shoulders, making her look like a true angel. Stanley paused, staring at her for two full seconds. Benny was excited. "Stanley, what do you think of the angel?" Another rich young man chimed in, "Mr. Hawk probably doesn't think much of her. Mr. Hawk likes delicate beauties like Jessica, not cold, aloof angels." "But look at her legs! Her legs are just as stunning as Jessica's." Wendy was wearing a short dress, shedding her usual conservative style and showing her legs for the first time. Her legs were perfectly proportioned—slender yet shapely. Those were legs that could make any man's imagination run wild. She looked just as good as Jessica. Stanley stared at the 'angel' for a moment and couldn't shake the feeling that she looked familiar, as if he'd seen her somewhere before. Just then, a line of male hosts walked in, all tall and handsome, forming a row in front of Wendy. Cecelia grinned. "Wendy, make your pick of eight." Deciding to indulge herself to celebrate her escape from the misery of marriage, Wendy smiled and pointed. "You, you, you... All of you stay." Benny counted aloud. "One, two, three... Eight! She actually picked eight male hosts at once!" The other rich young men laughed. "Why waste money? If the angel just asked, we'd serve her for free." Everyone chuckled. Ding! Stanley's phone buzzed again with a notification. Picking it up, he glanced at it to see what Wendy had spent on this time. [Dear VVIP user, your card ending in 0975 has been charged 500,000 at 1996 Bar for eight male hosts.] Stanley froze, staring at the words before raising his eyes toward the so-called angel across the room. If that wasn't Wendy, who else could it be? Stanley was speechless. Eight male hosts surrounded Wendy, pouring drinks into her glass. "Let's play a drinking game." Cecelia clapped happily. "Yes, let's play!" In the first round, Wendy lost. One of the male hosts handed her a drink. "Please drink some." Wendy took a sip, but the other male hosts protested. "Why drink his and not ours? We want to serve you too." Surrounded by all the attention, Wendy found it impossible to keep up, overwhelmed by the 'sweet burden' of their pampering. Stanley's eyes narrowed, his handsome features tensing into a grim expression. Without a word, he stood up and strode out. Benny was taken aback. "Stanley? Where are you going?" Wendy was about to take another drink when a large, strong hand reached over, grabbed her slender wrist, and pulled her up like she was a rag doll. Startled, she looked up to see Stanley's handsome face suddenly looming over her. She froze for a second, then quickly tried to break free. "Stanley, let go of me!" His face darkened and he dragged her away without a word. Cecelia stood up. "Stanley, what are you doing? Let Wendy go!" Benny and the others were completely stunned. They stared, dumbfounded, as if they had just misheard something. "Wendy?" "That angel is Wendy?" "Is this the same ugly duckling Wendy we know?" "She's actually stunning!" As they watched Stanley drag Wendy away, her cold, ethereal beauty still lingering in their vision, Benny muttered, "Wendy, who no longer chases after Stanley, just turned into a full-blown angel!" - Stanley's grip was firm and unrelenting, like an iron shackle. No matter how much Wendy struggled, she couldn't break free. His strides were long, forcing Wendy to stumble as she tried to keep up. "Stanley, let go of me!" Finally, Stanley stopped and flung her backward. Wendy's slender frame collided against the cold wall behind her. Before she could regain her balance, Stanley's tall figure loomed over her, pressing her against the wall. His eyes burned with fury. "Wendy, do you think I'm dead, playing around like this?" Chapter 5 Wendy furrowed her brows. "What did I do?" Stanley clenched his jaw. "Who told you to dress like this?" 'What? Like this?' she wondered. "What do you mean, Stanley?!" Stanley glanced at her ultra-short skirt. "Your legs are almost exposed. Do you really want people to see your legs like this?" Wendy's skirt was a bit short, but it was Cecelia's choice. Cecelia's exact words were, "My dearest Wendy doesn't show her legs, but look at how Jessica flaunts hers. Tonight, let everyone see who has the best legs in Hovendale." Wendy raised her finely arched eyebrows. "Looks like Mr. Hawk noticed my legs." Stanley paused. Wendy leaned back against the wall, appearing languid and graceful. She slowly lifted her right leg, her crystal-high heel brushing against his ankle. Stanley had on black trousers, showcasing his long, muscular legs, exuding an aura of coldness and restraint. Wendy's pale foot gently grazed up his ankle, moving along his calf. It was an act of seduction and defiance. Stanley shot her a cold glance. "What are you doing?" Wendy curved her lips into a smile. "Mr. Hawk, which do you prefer? My legs, or Jessica's?" Stanley stared at her small, delicate face that glowed with celestial radiance, yet she seduced him with a dazzling smile. Last night, he had glimpsed the beauty hidden beneath her dark-rimmed glasses, but he hadn't expected her to be this beautiful. He felt like he had seen this face somewhere before. Wendy's clear eyes sparkled. "Mr. Hawk, has Jessica ever wrapped her legs around your waist?" Stanley's breath hitched. His handsome face moved closer to hers, his gaze softening with a tenderness Wendy had never seen before. "Wendy, are you really this shameless? All you think about is men. You even hired eight male hosts to satisfy your needs!" He didn't answer Wendy's question about Jessica. That was perhaps the best kind of protection a man could offer a woman. Their love had been so passionate, full of youthful excitement. Jessica's legs had definitely wrapped around his waist, or else why would he still remember her so fondly? Jessica was lucky to have a man like Stanley so deeply attached to her. He would never describe her as 'shameless.' Though Wendy wore a smile, her eyes remained clear and distant. "Well, Mr. Hawk, your body isn't up to par and can't satisfy me, so of course I have to go out and find men. Let's get divorced quickly. If the first man doesn't work, the next will be better." Did she actually say he was inadequate, and the next man would be better? This woman was truly asking for it. Stanley reached out, grabbing Wendy's chin. "Are you trying to provoke me? Do you really want to know if I'm up to the task?" 'What?' Wendy froze. Stanley moved closer to her lips, teasing, but with words that carried no warmth. "Dream on. I won't touch you. The one I love is Jessica." He loved Jessica. He didn't even need to say it—Wendy already knew. It stung her heart, the sharp pain spreading through her, though the ache wasn't obvious. At that moment, a sweet voice rang out. "Stanley." Wendy looked up—Jessica had arrived. Jessica, the Red Rose of Hovendale, was a beautiful woman with rosy lips and perfect teeth, her body delicate from years of ballet training. Stanley immediately released Wendy and walked toward Jessica. He lowered his gaze to meet hers, his eyes filled with a tenderness Wendy had never seen. "You're here." Jessica nodded, then turned to Wendy. "Who's this?" Jessica didn't recognize Wendy at first. However, Wendy would never forget Jessica. Wendy and Jessica were stepsisters, but from completely different parents. Harry, Wendy's father, wasn't her biological father, but her stepfather. Many years ago, Wendy had a happy family with her real father, Jerry, and her mother Lilian, who were always respectful toward each other. Her father loved her dearly, always lifting her high. "Wendy, please be happy always." Then, one day, her father suddenly passed away. Harry, Jerry's brother, moved in with his daughter Jessica. Wendy's mother became Jessica's mother as well. Her mother remarried her second uncle. Her mother loved Jessica and stopped loving her. When Jessica got an A in a test and Wendy got an A+, her mother hit her hand with a ruler. "Can't you give your sister a break? Why must you outdo her?" When Jessica fell ill and had to undergo chemotherapy, her head had to be shaved. She cried, saying she had become ugly. In response, Wendy's mother immediately shaved Wendy's head. "You should look the same as your sister so she won't cry." Every night, her mother, Jessica, and Harry would sleep together, laughing and playing. Wendy, holding the doll her late father had bought her, would stand outside their door, crying alone. "Mommy, I'm scared…" Eventually, Jessica called her mother "Mom," which made her mother incredibly happy. But then Jessica said, "A mother can only have one daughter." One rainy day, Wendy's mother took her to the countryside and left her there. Wendy chased after the car, crying uncontrollably. "Mommy, don't leave me! I'll be good, I'll always put my sister before me… Mommy, hold me… I'm scared…!" Wendy fell heavily into the muddy water while holding her doll, watching helplessly as her mother's car disappeared from view. Wendy would never forget Jessica. At that moment, Benny rushed over. "Jessica, this is…your sister, Wendy!" Jessica was stunned. "You're Wendy?" Wendy knew that Jessica had always looked down on her. When they were young, Jessica had always been the one to beat her. As Jessica grew up, she excelled in everything. Later, she even dated Stanley, the heir of the Hawk family. She grew up in a world of admiration and love, full of pride and arrogance. Benny, once again, was stunned by Wendy's ethereal beauty. He whispered, "I didn't expect Wendy to be this beautiful." Jessica's memory of their childhood was fuzzy because she had never truly paid attention to her unloved sister. But wasn't her sister the ugly duckling from the countryside? Jessica approached Wendy, glancing at her, her brow raised in haughty pride. "Wendy, I didn't expect you to start dressing like me." Wendy remained silent. 'Well, if you say so,' she thought. Wendy straightened her slender back, smiling but saying nothing. The light from the corridor illuminated her delicate, otherworldly face, making it glow like a precious pearl. She was no longer the Wendy from before. Jessica sneered. "Wendy, I heard you're getting a divorce with Stanley. Can't you live without a man? Coming to a bar to hire male hosts to fulfill your desires? If I were you, I'd get a job." As she spoke, Jessica glanced at Stanley. In a tone that seemed almost benevolent, she added, "Stanley, Wendy took care of you for so long. Even if she was your maid, you should at least find her a job." Stanley's gaze landed on Wendy's face. "Jessica, nowadays, you need a degree to get a job. What's Wendy's education?" Benny said. Jessica seemed to recall something amusing. She lifted her chin and laughed. "Wendy dropped out of school at 16." Chapter 6 Benny was stunned. '16 years old?' The reason people in Benny's social circle held Jessica in such high regard wasn't just because of her beauty. It was also because of her exceptional academic achievements. She was a high achiever at a prestigious university, someone unmatched even among Hovendale's socialites. She deserved to be with Stanley. For any woman, beauty alone was a dead end. Beauty combined with education was the real trump card. The higher the social class, the more they valued a woman's education. Benny's initial admiration for Wendy vanished instantly. His tone became dismissive. "Wendy, did you seriously drop out of school at 16?" Wendy glanced at Jessica, who stood there with pride, and smiled faintly. "Yes, I did stop studying at 16." Benny sneered, "Well, what a coincidence. Stanley also stopped studying at 16. But he's a true prodigy, earning dual master's degrees from Harfield at that age and making history. And you? Dropped out of high school with nothing to your name!" His mockery echoed loudly. Jessica stood tall, looking down at Wendy with disdain. Stanley, with his tall and imposing figure, stood silently under the corridor lights. His handsome face remained unreadable as his gaze fell on Wendy. For the past three years, Wendy had been just a housewife, revolving around him. It was no surprise she lacked education. Wendy, however, didn't seem embarrassed or flustered. Instead, her clear, luminous eyes met his gaze. Then she smiled gracefully and said, "Yes, what a coincidence." 'Indeed, what a coincidence.' For reasons he couldn't explain, Stanley felt a ripple in his heart. He suddenly noticed how beautiful Wendy's eyes were—brimming with vitality and seemingly able to speak volumes without words. "Wendy!" At that moment, Cecelia came rushing over. She glared at Jessica. "Jessica, are you bullying Wendy again?" Jessica responded proudly, "We weren't bullying Wendy. We were just discussing helping her find a job." Cecelia was stunned. "You're helping Wendy find a job?" Jessica continued her magnanimous act. "Yes. Even though Wendy lacks education and qualifications, we'll try our best to help her secure something decent." Cecelia laughed in disbelief. "Do you even know who Wendy is? Wendy is—" Wendy quickly grabbed Cecelia's arm to stop her. "Cecelia, let's go." Cecelia held back her words, but before leaving, she cast a mocking glance at Jessica. "You'll regret this someday!" With that, she led Wendy away. Benny fumed, "What's wrong with Wendy? She dropped out of school at 16 and still acts so arrogant! If I were her, I'd be too ashamed to show my face." Jessica wasn't upset. She had never truly looked at Wendy as a rival—Wendy wasn't even qualified to compete with her. Getting angry at Wendy would only lower her status. She smiled loftily at Benny. "Benny, let it go. Ignorance is bliss." Benny turned to Stanley. "Stanley, you should hurry up and divorce Wendy. She's not worthy of you." Stanley's expression remained calm as his gaze briefly lingered on Wendy's departing figure. "Let's go," he said to Jessica. Jessica nodded. "Alright." And so, Jessica and Benny left with Stanley. - Later, outside the bar... "Mr. Hawk?" a voice called out. Stanley looked up to see a familiar face. It was Dave Suarez, the president of Harfield University. Stanley approached him. "Mr. Suarez, what brings you to Hovendale?" Jessica, always respectful of such prestigious figures, greeted him as well. Although she had always excelled academically, she hadn't been able to secure a spot at a top-tier institution like Harfield. Dave smiled. "Mr. Hawk, I'm here for a seminar. What a coincidence—you have a junior alumna here in Hovendale too." Stanley paused. "A junior alumna?" Dave nodded. "Yes, Harfield has two legends. The first is you, Stanley. The second is your junior alumna. Like you, she earned dual master's degrees at 16. She's a high-IQ prodigy. Unfortunately, you were a few years apart, so you've never met her." Benny's curiosity was piqued. "Wow! Stanley's junior is that amazing? Who's better between the two of them?" Dave smiled and looked at Stanley. "They're evenly matched." Stanley raised an eyebrow. He had never encountered a woman who could be his equal. Jessica, who had been calm earlier, suddenly felt an overwhelming surge of jealousy. This mysterious prodigious junior made her feel threatened. "Who is this junior?" she wondered aloud. Dave pulled out his phone. "Mr. Hawk, I've sent you her WhatsApp contact. She's also in Hovendale. You should connect with her and look out for her since you're her senior." Stanley nodded. "Alright." After Dave left, Benny urged, "Stanley, add her WhatsApp now! I want to see what she looks like." Stanley switched on his phone and found the contact. It had a profile named simply 'W,' with a plain white background. "What does the 'W' stand for?" Benny asked excitedly. Stanley didn't know either. He sent a friend request, adding the note, "Stanley." The request was pending approval. Benny was buzzing with excitement. "Stanley, once she adds you, introduce her to me! I'm in awe of her already." Jessica, sensing the shift in attention, grew visibly unhappy. At that moment, a car pulled up. Stanley's personal secretary, Zayn Cameron, had arrived. Jessica seized the opportunity to cut the conversation short. "Stanley, the car's here. Let's go." "Stanley, Jessica, see you later," Benny said. The car glided smoothly through the city streets, the quiet, opulent interior filled with an air of calmness. The dazzling city lights outside refracted against the polished windows, creating a cinematic interplay of shadows on Stanley's chiseled face—elegant and enigmatic. From the driver's seat, Zayn glanced back respectfully. "Sir, where to?" "To the office," Stanley answered curtly. Jessica observed him quietly, love evident in her gaze. She broke the silence with a question. "Stanley, what was that with Wendy earlier? You're not interested in her now that she's grown more beautiful, are you?" Stanley turned his sharp gaze toward her, his voice nonchalant yet teasing. "She's my wife. If something were to happen, wouldn't that be normal? Wasn't it you who handed her to me in the first place?" Jessica knew he still blamed her for leaving him behind to marry Wendy three years ago while he was in a state of coma. "Stanley, it wasn't like that. Wendy insisted on marrying you—I had no choice but to let her take my place…" Stanley's piercing gaze held hers. "Do you even believe that yourself?" Jessica faltered. Biting her lower lip, she feigned defiance. "Fine! Three years ago, I abandoned you—if you can't forgive me for that, then let's just break up! You can simply get rid of me if you don't want me anymore." She turned to Zayn and ordered, "Zayn, stop the car!" Jessica wanted to get out, but before she could leave, Stanley's long, elegant fingers reached out, grabbing her delicate wrist and yanking her firmly to his chest. Jessica's soft body collided with his solid frame, and she froze. Above her, Stanley's deep, exasperated voice softened into indulgence. "Jessica, you're only this bold because you know I'd spoil you rotten." Chapter 7 Jessica smiled, her heart filled with sweetness. She leaned into Stanley's embrace, then tilted her delicate, radiant face to look up at him. "I knew it—you can't bear to let me go. You would never leave me." Stanley, as Hovendale's wealthiest man, exuded an air of elegance and strength that could dictate the rise and fall of fortunes. He fulfilled every fantasy she had about what a man should be. But three years ago, when he had been in a car accident and declared a vegetative state, with doctors pronouncing he would never wake again, how could she waste the prime of her youth on a man like that? So, she had fled. Who could have predicted that Wendy, who married him in her place, would somehow help Stanley wake up within three years? Even now, Jessica didn't understand how Stanley recovered. Could Wendy's fortune be aligned perfectly with his? Doctors called it a medical miracle. So, Jessica returned. She knew Stanley loved her—he would never truly abandon her. Stanley looked at Jessica's radiant face. "If it weren't for what happened back then… Would I still spoil you like this?" At the mention of 'back then,' Jessica froze, guilt flashing through her eyes. She quickly changed the subject. "Have you slept with Wendy?" Stanley lowered his gaze. "Why would I sleep with her when I could sleep with you?" She knew he hadn't been with Wendy, but she asked the question anyway, baiting him into a flirtatious response. He played along, his words dripping with teasing ambiguity. Jessica loved this side of him—the allure of a mature man with a touch of mischief. His response made her cheeks flush. This cold and seemingly abstinent man only made her want to strip away his layers and uncover his deeper desires. Jessica turned, boldly straddling his lean waist. She draped her arms around his neck, bringing her lips close to his. Her breath was warm and seducing. "Do you want me?" Zayn, who had worked as Stanley's secretary for years, tactfully raised the partition between the driver's seat and the back of the car. Stanley looked at Jessica but said nothing. She was wearing a red dress. In her seated position, the hem had ridden up, exposing her long, flawless legs. Those famed 'best legs in Hovendale' were now sensuously wrapped around his tailored black trousers, creating an intimate and sultry scene. Jessica tightened her legs around his waist, pulling herself closer. "Say it. Do you want me?" If he said yes, she would give herself to him right here and now. Stanley, of course, understood her intent. But at that moment, an image of Wendy's legs from earlier in the evening at the bar flashed in his mind. Wendy's legs were perfectly proportioned, balanced in their slenderness and curves. She had asked him which legs he preferred—Jessica's or hers. At the time, Wendy had playfully raised her foot, the delicate crystal chain on her stiletto heels glinting as it dangled from her dainty ankle. She had teased him with her toes, brushing against his leg and asking if Jessica's legs had ever wrapped around his waist. Stanley slowly removed Jessica's hands from his neck. "I'm still married." Jessica frowned. "So?" "I don't intend to cheat while I'm still married," Stanley replied coolly. Jessica was momentarily stunned. The intimate atmosphere vanished. Stanley had put an end to it. Disappointed, Jessica slid off his lap. She had pride, too—she would only give herself to him if he wanted her. "When will you divorce Wendy?" she asked. Stanley's gaze shifted to the cityscape outside the window. In truth, it was indeed better that Wendy initiated the divorce—he was planning for it anyway. "Soon," Stanley said, his tone detached. Wendy and Cecelia returned to their apartment. Wendy lay on her soft bed, letting out a small sigh of relief. After tonight's indulgence, it was time to return to her normal life. She pulled out her phone and opened WhatsApp. Wendy had two accounts. For the past three years, she had been using the account named "Mrs. Hawk." Now, that account had been officially retired. She logged into her other WhatsApp account. As soon as she logged in, her notification chimed repeatedly. The group chat 'One Big Happy Family' was bustling with activity. Wendy opened it. [Whoa, whoa, whoa! Wendy's finally online!] Daryl exclaimed. [Welcome back, Wendy!] Ernest added. [Big hugs to Wendy!] Samuel chimed in. Her three seniors were tossing virtual confetti, enthusiastically celebrating her return. [Three years ago, Wendy was all starry-eyed and insisted on leaving the mountains to experience life with a man. So, how was it, Wendy? Was the man worth it?] Daryl asked. [Not worth it,] Wendy replied. [Looks like Wendy had her heart broken. Haha!] Ernest wrote. [So even Wendy can't conquer everything? Hahaha!] Samuel added. [All right, you two, stop teasing her. Let's just say these three years were her trial by fire in the mortal world. Sorry, this is just too funny—I need to laugh it out. Hahaha!] Daryl typed. Wendy was speechless. She was tempted to kick all three of them out of the group. With a swift move, she renamed the group chat from 'One Big Happy Family' to 'One Big Gossipy Family.' Just then, Samuel brought up a serious topic. [Wendy, it's time for you to come back. Our surgery schedule is packed. I've booked you a tricky heart operation. Report to the naturopathy center tomorrow.] Wendy replied with an 'OK' emoji. After exiting the chat, she suddenly noticed a friend request. She tapped it open and saw that it was from Stanley. Stanley was requesting to add her as a WhatsApp contact. The irony wasn't lost on her. For three years, she had used her 'Mrs. Hawk' account to message him daily. Yet, he had never replied. Now, on her other account, he was the one reaching out to her. 'Once upon a time, you didn't care for me. Now, you'll find I'm out of your reach.' Wendy's pale, delicate fingers hovered over the keyboard. After a moment of hesitation, she tapped decisively. - At Hawk Group… The Hawk Group building, a landmark of Hovendale, controlled the city's economic pulse. It towered into the clouds, its grandeur even more striking against the night sky. After dropping Jessica off at her home, Stanley arrived at his office. He sat in his black leather chair while he reviewed documents. The sharp nib of his pen scratched across the paper as he signed his name, 'Stanley,' with bold, confident strokes. Behind him, the gleaming floor-to-ceiling windows reflected the vibrant lights of the city—a dazzling backdrop that seemed to exist solely to complement this man. A crisp-sounding notification broke the silence. His phone buzzed with a WhatsApp alert. Stanley picked up his phone and opened the app. His brilliant junior had responded. Upon seeing the response, Stanley froze for a moment. Then, his thin lips curved into a smirk and he let out a soft chuckle. Chapter 8 Stanley's genius junior had directly rejected his friend request! At that moment, Zayn walked in with a cup of coffee. When he saw the screen on Stanley's phone, he was stunned. 'Did someone actually reject the CEO's friend request?' This was certainly something out of the ordinary. "Sir, your junior is…quite special," Zayn said. Stanley scoffed. 'Special indeed.' She was the first person to reject him. If she didn't want to add him, so be it. Stanley picked up the coffee and took a sip, only to frown. "Is the coffee not to your liking, sir? I'll make another cup," Zayn asked. Stanley suddenly remembered the coffee Wendy used to make—it was always just right for his taste. With an impassive expression, Stanley said, "Write an eight-figure check. That's my divorce settlement for Wendy." She said she wanted to leave with nothing, but he didn't believe it for a second. A girl from the countryside who had stopped schooling at sixteen—how would she make a living? She was just playing hard to get, hoping for more money. This eight-figure check was enough to buy out her three years. After that, they owed each other nothing. Zayn nodded. "Yes, sir." Just then, Zayn's phone rang. He answered and was thrilled. "Sir, great news! Dr. Ceylan has accepted our request and agreed to perform the heart surgery for Miss Jessica!" Dr. Ceylan was a legendary figure in the medical world, known for her extraordinary skills. Even top-tier billionaires had to wait in line to see her. However, three years ago, Dr. Ceylan had mysteriously disappeared, and no one knew where she went. Now, she was back. Jessica had suffered from a heart disease since childhood and had undergone treatments, but nothing worked. Now, Stanley had used his immense wealth to secure Dr. Ceylan's services for Jessica. The crease between Stanley's brows finally smoothed out, and he smiled. Jessica would be saved. - The next day, Wendy arrived at the naturopathy center. Suddenly, a group of black-clad bodyguards entered in an orderly formation, creating a path. Wendy and other bystanders were pushed aside. Two young women nearby were chatting. "What's going on?" "Don't you know? Hovendale's Red Rose, the prima ballerina Jessica, felt unwell while dancing today. Mr. Hawk brought her here to see a doctor." "With Mr. Hawk around, no wonder it's such a big fuss." Wendy's lashes trembled. She hadn't expected to encounter Stanley and Jessica at the naturopathy center today. "Look, there's Mr. Hawk and Jessica!" Wendy glanced up, and Stanley's tall, handsome figure came into view. He was dressed in a custom-tailored black suit, exuding an air of elegance and dominance. He carried Jessica in his arms. Doctors and nurses from the naturopathy center flocked around them, fawning over them like stars orbiting a moon. "Mr. Hawk, this way, please." Stanley strode forward. One of the young women gushed, "Wow, Mr. Hawk is so handsome! He's the epitome of a domineering CEO." "And Jessica's so beautiful, with her fair skin and graceful ballerina aura. They truly are the perfect couple!" "A dashing, noble CEO and a delicate, enchanting dancer—ahh, I'm dying over their fairy-tale love story!" Wendy and Stanley's marriage was a secret, known only to a select few. Most people were shipping Stanley and Jessica. Wendy watched Stanley disappear from her sight. Just now, he hadn't even noticed her; his eyes were only on Jessica. She was nothing more than a supporting character in their fairy tale. Reeling in her emotions, Wendy followed her appointment instructions and found ward Number 109. Soon, she saw Stanley, Jessica, Harry, and Lilian inside. Jessica was already sitting on the hospital bed, surrounded by Harry and Lilian on either side. Just like in their childhood, they pampered Jessica like a princess. "Jessica, this is great!" Harry said happily. "Mr. Hawk managed to secure Dr. Ceylan to treat you." Lilian was moved to tears. "Jessica, you've been through so much! But now, everything will be fine. Once Dr. Ceylan cures your heart, you'll be healthy and can marry Mr. Hawk as his bride." Jessica gave Stanley a sweet smile. Stanley, tall and imposing, stood by her side, gently patting her head. The scene of the four of them together was harmonious. Wendy froze at the door. She couldn't believe how small the world was—Samuel had assigned her the heart surgery case, and it turned out to be Jessica. The heartwarming scene inside made Wendy's eyes sting slightly. At that moment, Stanley seemed to sense something. He turned, and his deep, sharp gaze landed squarely on her. Wendy was caught off guard and met his gaze. Stanley's gaze narrowed as he immediately strode over to her. "Wendy, what are you doing here?" "I…" Wendy began. Stanley's voice turned icy. "Wendy, are you following me?" "I-I'm not," Wendy replied. Harry and Lilian noticed Wendy too. "Wendy, why are you here? Today, we invited the legendary Dr. Ceylan to treat your sister! How could you come here and cause trouble at a time like this?" Lilian yelled. Harry's expression darkened. "Wendy, you're so inconsiderate. Leave immediately!" Jessica said nothing. She sat on the bed, her gaze haughty and radiant as she glanced at Wendy. At that moment, Stanley's imposing figure leaned closer. He grabbed Wendy's slender arm. His voice was cold and dismissive. "Wendy, are you still playing hard to get? Have you not had enough of this? Now you're resorting to stalking? Stop wasting your time on me. Leave!" Chapter 9 No one welcomed her arrival—they were all trying to push her away. Wendy found it laughable. Her cold, sharp eyes swept across Lilian, Jessica, and Harry's faces before she yanked her arm out of Stanley's grip. A faint smile tugged at her lips as she said, "Fine, I'll leave." 'Remember this—it was you who told me to go!' With that, Wendy turned and walked away. Soon after, she came back. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she asked, "Mr. Hawk, do you know why I came to the naturopathy center today?" Stanley's gaze fell on her flawless, porcelain-like face, her soft peach fuzz catching the light, making her beauty even more striking. Stanley's expression was cold, and it was clear he didn't care. His voice was harsh and distant. "Wendy, this is getting annoying." Wendy stepped forward with a dazzling smile. "I'm here to help you find a naturopath." She pulled a small card out of her pocket and handed it to him. "Here, this is for you." Stanley looked down at the slightly yellowed card, which looked like something someone might slip through a door crack. The card read, "Traditional Naturopath – Specializing in ED, and helping you rediscover your manhood. Contact: 138..8888" Stanley's usually stoic face cracked ever so slightly. Wendy slipped the card into his suit pocket. "Jessica has a problem. Mr. Hawk, don't you as well? You both should really get yourselves checked out." She turned and walked away without waiting for a response. Stanley's hand, hanging by his side, clenched into a fist. This woman always managed to push his buttons. Jessica broke the silence. "Stanley, let it go. Wendy isn't worth our time." Lilian nodded. "Right. Why isn't Dr. Ceylan here yet?" Everyone grew tense at the mention of Dr. Ceylan, who was Jessica's last hope. Stanley glanced at his watch. The appointment time had passed, but Dr. Ceylan hadn't arrived. Just then, a nurse walked in. "Mr. Hawk." Jessica, Harry, and Lilian perked up. "Is Dr. Ceylan here?" The nurse addressed Stanley. "Dr. Ceylan arrived earlier but has already left." 'What?' Stanley looked down the hallway but didn't see anyone—only Wendy disappearing around a corner. Stanley frowned. "I didn't see Dr. Ceylan." The nurse explained, "Dr. Ceylan came, but decided not to stay." "Why?" Jessica, Harry, and Lilian's expressions changed instantly. "Why would Dr. Ceylan leave without helping Jessica?" The nurse apologized, "I'm sorry, but Dr. Ceylan refused to treat Miss Jessica." Jessica's face went pale. Dr. Ceylan wouldn't treat her? Why? Their earlier hope was doused like a bucket of cold water. Everyone was stunned. Jessica lost it. "Why won't Dr. Ceylan treat me? Why?" Harry and Lilian immediately comforted her. "Jessica, don't get upset. We'll figure something out and bring Dr. Ceylan back. You'll be okay!" Stanley's sharp features hardened. He stared down the empty hallway, his aura radiating danger. Outside the hospital, someone called out, "Wendy." Wendy paused and turned around slowly. It was Lilian, who had followed her out. Lilian approached her. "Wendy, this is for you." Wendy glanced down—it was a check for 20,000. "Wendy, Mr. Hawk doesn't love you. Stop clinging to him and give him back to your sister. Why can't you let her have him? Just divorce him and take this money to start fresh in the countryside," Lilian said. Wendy found it absurd. If she hadn't secretly done a DNA test on Lilian and Jessica, she might have believed Jessica was Lilian's biological daughter. Yet, that wasn't the case. Lilian was only Jessica's stepmother. However, Lilian adored Jessica and not Wendy, her actual daughter. Wendy knew Lilian was obsessed with Harry, which explained her bias. Wendy's gaze was calm as she looked at Lilian. She smiled faintly. "So, being Mrs. Hawk is only worth this much to you? Or is that all I'm worth in your eyes?" Lilian froze, then hurriedly said, "Wendy, I'm your mother, and I'm doing this for your good. You don't belong here…" 'Mother?' The word sounded foreign, and Wendy laughed softly. "You already sent me to the countryside once, and now you want to do it again. You really are a great mother!" Wendy didn't look at Lilian again. She stepped into a taxi and left. Lilian stood frozen, watching Wendy's taxi leave. Just then, someone approached. "Mrs. Crone." Lilian turned to see Ted Whalen, the head of the naturopathy center. Lilian immediately approached him. "Dr. Whalen, you have so many connections. Can you help us get Dr. Ceylan to treat Jessica?" Dr. Whalen smiled. "Mrs. Crone, I know Dr. Ceylan personally. I can make the introduction." Lilian's face lit up. "Really? Thank you so much, Dr. Whalen." Dr. Whalen's gaze shifted to where Wendy had disappeared. A sly smile tugged at his lips. "Mrs. Crone, was that your daughter who came back from the countryside? She's stunning. For a second, I thought I'd seen an angel." Lilian's expression turned cold, her earlier excitement fading into icy indifference.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17748&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	375	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	beokn.com	VIDEO		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17748&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/478432946_1300494391197923_5342799041238777032_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=CUrnpGv_Ml0Q7kNvgED8hof&_nc_oc=AdgYAJeJgx_BNwUqG_8EfXwfQg3_U48VMM7OLbMBrOAnEPVnNIsS1otqnn1epsRPLNfs59bx8GgCUPO3_xTnrFJC&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ag4B-A_N8Q9B8sHZdYD-roU&oh=00_AYBq9sqfQeaRpujZE1NTzAVqcVUtxqAL1Irv1SKI7AZ1oA&oe=67CBB346	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,755,579	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2755516}'	Yes	2025-03-03 11:42	active	2770	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	The brilliant lights in the hall dimmed, leaving a concentrated glow upon the stage. The bride and groom stood bathed in radiance—she in her flowing white gown, he in his impeccably tailored suit. They were the perfect picture of beauty and elegance. The background music shifted, rising into a crescendo, infusing the air with a palpable sense of excitement. The wedding ceremony had reached its peak. Deidre clasped her left hand over her right, her palms damp with sweat beneath the delicate white gloves. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, each beat echoing like a drum in her ears. She was so nervous it felt as though her heart might leap into her throat. Her gaze settled on the man before her, a mix of elation and unease swirling within her. Micah Landon—one of Salve City's most eligible bachelors, heir to one of its most powerful families—was about to marry her. It felt surreal, like a fairy tale come to life. A Cinderella marrying her prince, with all the incredulity that entailed. Micah stood tall in his sharply cut suit, his handsome face composed, his demeanor radiating charm and distinction. The unframed glasses perched on his high-bridged nose softened the sharpness of his features, lending his eyes a gentle warmth that seemed deeper than usual. "And now, let's have the bride and groom exchange rings!" The emcee's voice was vibrant, his enthusiasm infectious. A poised bridesmaid stepped forward, carrying a tray with a red velvet base upon which the wedding rings rested. Micah's gaze lowered to the open ring box, and for a fleeting moment, his calm façade faltered. His gentle, smiling expression froze ever so slightly. The warmth and softness in his eyes disappeared entirely, replaced by an unfamiliar coldness. Deidre followed his gaze to the rings, her brow furrowing in confusion. These weren't the rings they had chosen together. What was going on? Micah's hand hovered over the ring box but didn't move to pick one up. An awkward pause settled over the ceremony. The emcee hesitated, his expression reflecting the growing tension in the room. Then a shout broke through the silence. "What's that on the screen?" Heads turned toward the massive display behind them. Deidre instinctively followed their gaze. The screen, which had been playing a slideshow of their sweet, romantic pre-wedding photos, now displayed a completely different set of images. The pictures still showed a man and a woman, but the man wasn't Micah. The first photo revealed Deidre being intimately embraced by a stranger outside a hotel. The next showed her leaning into the same man in a hotel room, their bodies close on a bed. The lively background music continued to play, a jarring contrast to the now stifling atmosphere. Whispers swept through the crowd, their eyes darting toward Deidre. Daring to humiliate Micah, the powerful and revered heir, on his wedding day? And this bride, from her modest family background, had the audacity to wear such a scandalous stain on her character? Deidre felt as if lightning had struck her. Panic surged through her as she snapped her gaze toward Micah. His attention was fixed on the screen. The light from the display reflected off his glasses, making it impossible for Deidre to discern his expression. But the tight line of his lips and the vein bulging at his temple revealed enough. A cold blade seemed to pierce her chest, twisting sharply. The once cheerful wedding music now felt like a cruel mockery. "Micah, I didn't—" Deidre started, her voice trembling. Micah's gaze finally shifted to her, his eyes icy and unreadable behind his glasses. The storm brewing in them made her heart sink further. "I…" She wanted to explain, but no words came. The images on the screen were a mystery to her. She had no memory of them, no explanation for their existence. Who would do this to her? Who would want to ruin her like this? Micah's expression grew colder, a mocking glint appearing in his eyes. He didn't say a word. Instead, he glanced at the bridesmaid holding the tray of rings. He picked up one of the rings, turned sharply, and walked away. "Micah, don't go!" Deidre cried, lifting the hem of her gown as she rushed after him. She grabbed his hand, desperate to stop him. He halted briefly, turning to look at her. His lips curved in a faint, mocking smile, his voice low and biting. "This wedding…" He trailed off, his gaze flicking back to the screen where yet another photo appeared—Deidre asleep in bed, her features serene. Beside her, the same stranger propped his head on one hand, gazing at her with a tenderness that seemed all too intimate. Micah's faint smirk turned into a derisive laugh. "…is off." Each word struck Deidre like an arrow, sinking deep into her heart and leaving a searing pain in their wake. He shook off her hand with enough force to send her stumbling backward. She staggered, unable to steady herself, and fell to the ground, her pristine white gown pooling around her like a defeated flag. Chapter 2 The wedding host, visibly flustered as the groom turned and walked away, hastily gestured to the sound engineer to cut the music. As the cheerful background tunes abruptly ceased, the atmosphere shifted, the murmur of the crowd swelling into an unabashed roar of judgment and speculation. "They've been engaged for over a year, and now this scene unfolds at the wedding? Utter humiliation," someone remarked loudly. "She looks so pure, doesn't she? But clearly, she's got other, shall we say, talents that hooked Micah. Guess she practiced those talents with plenty of others. Walk along the river long enough, and you'll get your feet wet. Someone probably got fed up and exposed her. Tsk, tsk." That particular comment sliced through the air like a shard of glass, sharp and cutting. "Nonsense! I didn't do any of that!" Deidre screamed, her voice raw with desperation. Her outburst only added fuel to the fire. None of the attendees spared her even a modicum of sympathy. They were there for the prestige of the Landon family. Now that she had been abandoned by Micah, who was she to them? A nobody, someone to ridicule without consequence. "Look at her, losing her temper. How unsightly." "Exactly. Instead of finding a hole to crawl into, she's still yelling at others." "Such shameless defiance. Playing the victim while pretending to be saintly—what a joke." "If my daughter ever turned out like this, I'd beat her to death." "Let's go. The wedding's clearly over." The voices piled up, overlapping in waves of cruelty. Deidre's head buzzed with a hollow static. None of it made sense. How had the day turned into this nightmare? No. It couldn't end like this. She slipped off her high heels, hoisting up the heavy layers of her wedding gown, and ran after Micah. Outside the hotel, Micah stood by the open door of his car, flipping through some documents. The sight of him brought a glimmer of hope to Deidre's heart, and she quickened her steps. "Micah!" she called out, her voice trembling with both fear and longing. His hand froze mid-turn, but he didn't look up. Tears welled in Deidre's reddened eyes. "How can you just leave me like this? How can you believe those photos without even hearing me out?" Micah finally lifted his gaze, his eyes cold and detached, like a winter wind slicing through her skin. "One week ago," he began, his voice steady but unyielding, "Westin Hotel, Room 309. Was it you?" The precision of his words hit her like a jolt. A specific time, a specific place—her memory stirred reluctantly to life. Her breath hitched as fragments resurfaced. She had been there. It was her sister Valerie's 18th birthday party, and they'd forced a bottle of whiskey down her throat. The next thing she remembered was waking up alone in that hotel room with a splitting headache. The images from the wedding screen replayed in her mind, overlapping with her fragmented recollection. Could it be? But no—when she had woken up that morning, she was alone. There had been no one else, she was sure of it. Her silence spoke volumes. "Can't answer, can you?" Micah's voice dripped with disdain, dragging her back to the present. "I was there, yes, but—" she began, desperate to explain. "Spare me your excuses," he cut her off icily. He thrust the documents in his hand toward her. "Take a good look. No one's an idiot here." Mechanically, Deidre accepted them, her hands trembling. Her eyes skimmed over the pages—photographs, so many photographs. Many were the same ones that had been displayed on the wedding screen, but these… these included more. Her breath caught in her throat. Among the images, her sister Valerie appeared too, unmistakably linked to the events captured. "This isn't real," Deidre stammered. "I'll call Valerie—she'll explain. This is all a misunderstanding. That night—she—" Her frantic words were abruptly silenced as Micah seized her chin, forcing her to look at him. "It's over, Deidre," he said quietly. His gaze locked onto hers, unyielding. She saw her own desperation reflected in the lenses of his frameless glasses, his eyes devoid of warmth or mercy. His voice dropped to a chilling whisper. "If only you'd stayed obedient. But there are no 'if onlys.' You hid it well these past two years. I almost believed in you, fooled by that face of yours. But you're tainted. In the end, it was my mistake for thinking you could ever compare to her." Her mind stumbled over his words, catching on one fragment: "Her." Who was he talking about? Before she could grasp it, Micah let out a bitter laugh. With his free hand, he pulled a ring box from his pocket, opening it with a flick of his thumb. Chapter 3 Deidre recognized the wedding ring—it was the same unfamiliar one that had appeared earlier at the ceremony. Micah's voice broke through the heavy air, low and dripping with disdain. "You're not worthy of this ring." Her heart shuddered at his words, and pain flared across her jaw as he harshly released her. Without so much as a glance back, he stepped into the car, slamming the door shut with finality. His expression remained cold as he instructed the driver, "Drive." Desperate, Deidre chased after the car, her bare feet burning against the scorching pavement. The southern Salve City was in the grip of a relentless summer heat, but she barely noticed. The pain in her feet seemed distant, insignificant compared to the ache in her chest. She ran with abandon, her cumbersome wedding gown tangling around her legs, until she tripped and fell hard onto the unforgiving ground. Her knees and elbows scraped against the rough asphalt, bleeding slightly. She looked utterly disheveled, a far cry from the radiant bride she had been moments ago. The driver, catching sight of her pitiful state in the rearview mirror, hesitated. His foot eased off the gas, and he ventured cautiously, "Young Master Micah, Miss Deidre is—" "Did you not understand what I said earlier?" Micah's tone was sharp, cutting. "Yes, sir!" The driver stiffened, not daring to say another word. He pressed harder on the accelerator, and the car sped away. For a fleeting moment, Deidre thought she saw the car slow down. A glimmer of hope ignited in her eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it came. The car roared forward, disappearing into the distance, leaving her behind. She sat where she had fallen, her meticulously applied bridal makeup now smeared and ruined. The oppressive summer sun bore down on her, but she didn't care. Perhaps if her body suffered enough, her heart might hurt a little less. The sound of approaching heels broke through her haze. A shadow loomed over her, and Deidre slowly looked up to see Casey Landon standing before her, her elegant face frosty with disdain. Casey crouched down, bringing their gazes level. Her lips curled into a cold smile as she produced her phone, unlocking it and flipping through her photo album. She held it out for Deidre to see. "Take a good look. This is my brother's first love." Deidre's face drained of color the moment her eyes landed on the photo. The girl in the picture was young, no older than eighteen or nineteen. Her delicate features radiated joy, her hand raised in a playful gesture that highlighted the ring on her slender finger—a ring identical to the one Micah had just dismissed as unworthy of Deidre. Her breath caught. The resemblance was uncanny. The girl's eyes, especially, bore a startling similarity to her own. "This photo," Casey said coolly, "is why my brother took an interest in you." Deidre's mind reeled. 'You're not worthy of this ring.' Micah's words came rushing back, sharper than ever. "So, I'm… her—" Deidre began, her voice trembling. "Her replacement," Casey finished mercilessly. Her tone was detached, but each syllable landed like a dagger to Deidre's heart. "No… that can't be," Deidre murmured, her voice barely audible. Yet her body betrayed her denial, trembling uncontrollably. Though the summer heat was oppressive, she felt as if she had been plunged into an icy abyss. She was a joke. Right from the start, she had been nothing more than a substitute. Casey watched Deidre descent into despair with evident satisfaction, though her anger hadn't quite abated. She raised her hand and struck Deidre across the face. The slap echoed sharply. Deidre's head snapped to the side, her cheek instantly stinging with heat. A vivid red mark bloomed across her pale skin, the outline of fingers clear and unrelenting. "Today, you humiliated my brother in front of everyone," Casey said coldly. "You turned this wedding into the laughingstock of the entire Salve City's elite. You should be thankful my parents left in disgust early on. If they were still here, you wouldn't have gotten off with just a slap." Deidre bit her lip, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth. Slowly, she turned her face back to Casey, her eyes red-rimmed but resolute. Tears welled up but refused to fall. "I didn't do anything to betray him," she said through clenched teeth. "Spare me the pitiful act," Casey sneered. "Who do you think you're fooling?" Her disgust was unmistakable, simmering just beneath the surface. She straightened, slipping her phone back into her pocket. With a final disdainful glance, she added, "You're just a shameless woman clinging to lies and excuses. Disgusting." Without another word, Casey turned on her heel and walked away. Chapter 4 The reporters had trailed after Micah's car for a good while, hoping to intercept him, but when it became clear that their efforts were futile, they shifted their attention. Like a tidal wave, they surged toward Deidre instead. Vincent Winsley, who had also rushed out, caught sight of Deidre slumped on the ground, her hair disheveled, her expression blank. A surge of fury erupted within him. "You've disgraced me completely!" he spat, his teeth clenched in rage. Without waiting for a response, he stormed over and yanked her up forcefully. Deidre stumbled as he dragged her toward the parking lot, his movements sharp and brimming with frustration. Like a discarded, soulless rag doll, Deidre let herself be shoved into the car. Her mind was elsewhere, caught in an unending loop of Micah's cold words and Casey's venomous taunts. A replacement. The phrase clung to her, refusing to loosen its grip. Deidre's lips curled into a silent, bitter smile. Of course. It all made sense now. No wonder Micah had believed those photos, no wonder he had so readily embraced such absurd accusations. Trust? There had never been any between them. How could there be trust when all along, he had seen her as someone else? To him, she was merely a shadow, an echo of his lost love. A stand-in needed no trust—only convenience. When she no longer suited his mood, he could cast her aside without hesitation, without remorse. After all, she was just a replacement. Nothing more. For two whole years, she had been ensnared in the illusion of Micah's tenderness, his feigned affection. Even until this very day, she had dared to dream of a future together, of growing old by his side. But now, the illusion was shattered. The truth lay bare, unrelenting in its cruelty. She was nothing but a substitute. And if she had paid closer attention, she might have seen it all along. The signs were there. The way Micah would often stare at her, lost in thought—as if seeing through her, seeing someone else entirely. The pain clawed at her chest, raw and relentless. Why? Why did Micah have to do this to her? Just because she happened to resemble his first love? Did that alone condemn her to this undeserved heartbreak, this torment? "You still have the audacity to cry after committing such shameless acts!" Her father's enraged scolding pierced her thoughts. Deidre didn't even have the strength to argue anymore. Exhaustion weighed down every fiber of her being. She closed her eyes, letting the tears fall silently. But behind her closed lids, she couldn't stop the image from resurfacing—Micah's cold, disdainful gaze, those eyes filled with nothing but contempt. Again and again, the memory replayed, refusing to fade. Her heart felt as though it were being torn apart, over and over, each tear exposing fresh wounds, each wound bleeding pain she couldn't contain. … The moment Deidre stepped into the house, pushed forward by Vincent, she stumbled through the doorway into the entryway. As soon as the door clicked shut, his palm came down hard across her face. It struck the same spot Casey had hit earlier—her left cheek—and the sharp sting of pain flared up once more, searing and numb all at once. Deidre's expression didn't even flicker. She had no tears left to shed; the journey home had wrung her dry. All that remained was the dull ache behind her eyes. She stood there like a wooden doll, her gaze hollow and detached, staring at Vincent without truly seeing him. "How dare you humiliate the Landon family like this? How dare you cheat on Micah!" he roared. There was no questioning, no attempt to understand—just an immediate verdict of guilt, a judgment passed without trial. This was her father, Vincent. He had always been like this. The rage that had been simmering within him on the way home boiled over entirely now, erupting with full force. He raised his hand again, his voice thunderous. "I'll beat you to death today. That way, the Landon family won't come after me for this disgrace!" Deidre didn't move. She didn't even flinch. She knew better than to try. It wouldn't make a difference. Another slap landed squarely on her cheek, hard and unrelenting. The pain was distant now, buried under layers of numbness. Her expression remained as lifeless as before. "Look at you! Always that dead, useless look!" Her passive indifference only fueled Vincent's anger further, like oil thrown onto an open flame. His veins bulged at his neck, his face twisted with fury. "Fine! I'll end your life right here!" He glanced around, his eyes landing on a shoehorn resting by the entryway. He grabbed it without hesitation and swung it at her. Blow after blow rained down on her, relentless and furious. The shoehorn struck her arms, leaving bright red welts on her pale skin, each mark stark and startling against its canvas. The door opened again, and Kiera Winsley, her stepmother, appeared. She took in the scene, her voice laced with feigned concern as she exclaimed, "What's going on here? Why are you hitting Deidre?" "Stay out of it!" Vincent snapped, his grip tightening on the shoehorn. "This disgraceful wretch deserves it. end her life would be doing us all a favor." "Now, now," Kiera replied, stepping between Vincent and Deidre, her tone calm yet firm. "She's still your daughter. You can't say things like that." Her words seemed protective, but her eyes betrayed her indifference. There wasn't the faintest glimmer of worry in them. Deidre's gaze drifted to the silhouette of Kiera standing in front of her, shielding her from further blows. For the first time in what felt like forever, her empty eyes focused again. Her voice, hoarse and strained, broke the silence. "Where's Valerie?" Kiera blinked, startled by the unexpected question. She hesitated for a moment before responding, "Your sister and brother took a different car. They'll be home soon." Deidre said nothing more. Without another word, she turned and walked toward the living room. "Look at her! Look at the way she acts!" Vincent fumed behind her, his rage still simmering. Kiera stepped closer to him, her voice soothing as she tried to calm him down. But even as she murmured words of comfort, her gaze followed Deidre, scrutinizing her retreating figure with a calculating glint in her eyes. Chapter 5 After a long string of coaxing and placating, Kiera finally managed to calm Vincent's seething anger to a simmer. She tugged at his arm, steering him towards their room to change out of the formal attire they'd worn for the wedding. As they reached the stairs, Kiera glanced back and saw Deidre sitting quietly on the living room sofa. Her gaze was fixed on the front door, unblinking, her expression unreadable but for the faint furrow in her brows. Kiera hesitated, then called out, "Deidre, go change into something else, won't you?" Deidre didn't move. It was as if her ears had turned deaf to the sound of her stepmother's voice. "That girl's just like her mother—a cursed woman through and through!" Vincent spat as he ascended the stairs. "What bad luck it's been to have a daughter like that!" Deidre's eyes flickered for a moment, a ripple disturbing their stillness. Her hands clenched tightly, nails digging into her palms. It wasn't long before Valerie and Johnny returned. The atmosphere in the house had barely settled when their chatter filled the space again. "What a disaster today turned out to be," Valerie muttered as she stepped inside, slipping off her shoes. She paid no attention to the figure rising slowly from the living room sofa. "I told you from the beginning—this match was doomed from the start. Why force it? Marrying into wealth, what a joke..." Johnny trailed behind her, nodding absentmindedly as she spoke. But before she could take another step, she found herself face-to-face with Deidre. Startled, Valerie took a step back, her eyes scanning the figure before her. Deidre stood there in her wedding dress—filthy, tattered, with her hair in disarray. The left side of her pale face was swollen. For a brief moment, Valerie froze, as though she'd seen a ghost. Then her expression twisted into irritation. "What are you doing, standing there looking like that? Trying to scare someone to death?" Deidre's voice was calm, so calm it was unnerving. "It was you, wasn't it? On your eighteenth birthday, you forced me to drink, sent me to that hotel. And the pictures on the wedding screen—those were your doing too." The tone carried no inflection, just a straightforward certainty. It wasn't a question. It was a fact laid bare. Valerie faltered, her bravado wavering under Deidre's steady gaze. "You… I…" Her voice stumbled, and her eyes darted away, the guilt she tried to suppress bubbling to the surface. Before she could stammer out a denial, Deidre's hand moved swiftly. The slap landed on Valerie's cheek. Johnny snapped to attention, rushing forward to push Deidre away. "Don't hit my sister!" Johnny shouted, his fourteen-year-old frame trembling with indignation. The shove was forceful, and Deidre stumbled back several steps before regaining her balance. Valerie, clutching her cheek, finally processed what had happened. Her shock quickly morphed into rage. "Even Dad has never hit me! How dare you?!" she shrieked, rushing toward Deidre with hands outstretched, aiming for her face. But Deidre caught her by the wrist, her grip unyielding. Another slap followed, sharp and deliberate. Her voice, low and icy, cut through the chaos. "You deserve it." "You… you hit me again?!" Valerie's voice cracked into a wail. But before she could retaliate, Deidre's hand moved for the third time, another slap echoing in the room. "Stop hitting Valerie, you useless freak!" Johnny yelled. He rushed over, intending to help his older sister. But when his eyes met Deidre's gaze, he froze. As a fourteen-year-old boy who had been pampered his whole life, he had never seen anyone with such a murderous look in their eyes. Terrified, he hesitated. "Stop it this instant!" Kiera's voice rang out as she descended the stairs, her heels clacking rapidly against the steps. Her sharp eyes took in the scene—her daughter red-faced and wailing, Deidre standing unmoved, cold as stone. "How dare you hit your sister? Have you lost your mind?" Vincent wasn't far behind, his fury reignited at the sight of his precious daughter's reddened cheeks. He stormed down the stairs, his voice shaking with anger. "Hitting your sister like this? I'll end you life myself!" Deidre watched them all—the righteous fury on her father's face, the manufactured concern in her stepmother's eyes, and the unbridled hatred radiating from Valerie. Her chest tightened, the ache so deep it numbed her. Valerie broke through the cacophony with a scream, her voice shrill with rage. "Yes! I did it! I made you drunk that night and sent you to that hotel! And those photos on the screen—I had those taken! You think you deserve to marry into wealth? You're nothing! A crow pretending to be a phoenix—know your place!" Chapter 6 Vincent had been spewing curses at Deidre just moments ago, but upon hearing Valerie's confession, his lips pressed into a rare, tight line. He said nothing. Deidre let out a derisive laugh, her gaze shifting from Valerie to settle on her father. "You heard her, didn't you? You know now who orchestrated today's wedding fiasco. Weren't you so eager to beat me to death earlier? Why aren't you laying a hand on Valerie now?" Vincent remained still, his brows furrowing deeper as he finally spoke. "She's your sister. Watch your tone." "And when she humiliated me in front of an entire banquet hall, did she ever stop to think that I was her sister?" Deidre's voice cracked as she shouted, her anger no longer contained. "She's your daughter. Am I not your daughter, too?" "You're the older one. You should let her have her way," Vincent said, as if his words were carved in stone. "Yes, that's always your answer. Whenever there's a conflict between me and Valerie, you tell me I'm the older one, so I have to give in to her," Deidre said quietly now, her tone steeped in irony. She stood a few steps away, staring at the four people before her, her eyes cold, filled with disdain. Her mother had passed away before she was old enough to form memories. Not long after, Vincent had remarried, bringing Kiera into their home. With her came Valerie and Johnny. In the suffocating silence that followed, Deidre let out a bitter laugh. "I'm just an outsider, aren't I? You're the real family here." Her words pierced through the thin veneer of harmony that had barely held their household together. It shattered like glass. "What kind of look is that? Don't forget, I'm your father!" Vincent barked, enraged by the unmasked contempt in Deidre's eyes. "Following the passing of your mother, you ate my food, wore the clothes I bought. Did you call yourself an outsider then? Don't think earning a scholarship every year makes you someone special. If you're so capable, get out of this house right now and see how far you get without my support! Starve for all I care—just don't come crawling back!" Kiera's eyes gleamed at his words, though her tone remained measured, even gentle. "Why say such harsh things? Deidre is only twenty, and she's still in university. You can't talk to a child like that." Turning to Deidre, she added with a hypocritical kindness, "Deidre, don't take your father's words to heart. Apologize and make peace." "Fine," Deidre replied curtly. Her compliance startled Kiera, who hesitated, unsure what to make of it. This girl had never shown her any respect before, and now, all of a sudden, she was so obedient? The thought didn't sit well. If Deidre were truly driven out of the house, Kiera would no longer have to keep up the facade of a benevolent stepmother. Yet, despite herself, she felt unsettled, as if she had just swallowed a fly. Vincent was equally taken aback by his daughter's uncharacteristic acquiescence. He paused, his expression softening slightly. Clearing his throat, he assumed a more commanding tone. "The matter with the photos at the wedding—Valerie is still young and made a mistake. You've already hit her. Let's put it behind us. If you've done nothing to wrong the Landon family, find a time to clear things up and reschedule the wedding." Running a construction materials company, Vincent's business had been thriving, especially with the Landon family connection. A marriage alliance with the Landons would secure even greater opportunities. Naturally, he hoped Deidre would still marry into that family. The thought of returning the Landon family's generous bride price gnawed at him. That money alone had already covered the cost of raising Deidre for twenty years, and then some. It could ever cover her living costs for another forty years. The idea of losing it was unbearable. "You were engaged to Micah a year ago," he continued, his voice laced with warning. "You've been a part of the Landon family ever since. If they decide they don't want you after this mess, don't think anyone else will have you." "Reschedule the wedding?" Deidre repeated, as though the suggestion was the most absurd thing she'd ever heard. She began to laugh—a deep, bitter laugh that only grew louder, carrying with it a sadness so profound it filled the room. This was her father. A man so blinded by favoritism, he had lost all sense of reason. "What are you laughing at?" Vincent snapped, his brows knitting together tightly. Chapter 7 "I'd rather never get married in this lifetime than marry Micah. Never!" Deidre stopped laughing, her face freezing over, her voice sharp: "I think you've misunderstood something. When I said 'fine,' I meant I'll leave this house, and you can all go ahead and live your happy little lives." Since middle school, Deidre had been a boarding student, and the bond between her and her father, Vincent, had always been tenuous. The estrangement between them was as thin as the paper separating two worlds. In a blended family, when there are children from previous marriages, someone always ends up hurt. Vincent's fatherly love had been doled out almost entirely to his other children, Valerie and Johnny, leaving only the scraps for her. It was like charity, barely a gesture. Now, standing on the edge of her limits, she had had enough. Absolutely enough. "Fine! Fine then!" Vincent, enraged, his face contorted, pointed toward the door and bellowed, "I'll cut ties with you today! Get out! Get out of this house—now!" "Don't worry, I'm leaving." The deepest sorrow wasn't in the confrontation itself but in the stillness that followed it. Deidre had imagined this moment countless times, but now that it was happening, she felt a strange tranquility—almost a sense of release. Like her presence in this house had always been superfluous, an eyesore. She should have left long ago. Calmly, Deidre turned and went upstairs to her room to pack her things. Kiera, thrilled on the inside, masked her joy with an expression of feigned concern and helplessness. She muttered, "Don't be so upset. Why argue with a twenty-year-old? I'll go check on her." When Valerie heard Deidre's words, the sting of the slap on her face lightened. A wicked smile spread across her face, and sweetly, she said, "Dad, you still have me. I'll be a good daughter from now on." Vincent had been angry with Valerie earlier, but seeing her with that slap mark on her face, now with her pitiful, submissive expression, all the anger drained away. His tone softened as he looked at her, a far cry from the venomous words he had thrown at Deidre. He spoke gently, as a father would to a daughter he cherished, his voice full of indulgence. "Yes, having you is enough, my dear." Johnny watched Deidre walk up the stairs, his face contorted with disdain and contempt. This burden had been long overdue to leave. Upstairs, Deidre entered her room, changed out of the wedding dress, and began packing her suitcase. She heard footsteps stop at the door. Turning, she saw Kiera leaning against the doorframe, a smile plastered on her face. It was clear to Deidre that Kiera's smile was full of unmasked triumph, as if her goal had been achieved. "You don't need to stand there. Don't worry, I won't take anything valuable." Kiera chuckled lightly. "What valuable things could you even have in this room? Compared to Valerie's, yours is barely furnished. Take whatever you want—it's all just the last little bit of charity our family has given you." Deidre eyed Kiera for a moment, then silently walked past her and slammed the door shut. Kiera raised an eyebrow, unfazed by the gesture. Her mood was too good to argue with the brat now. She turned, adopting a concerned expression, and went downstairs. … Inside the room, Deidre slid down to the floor, leaning against the door, her eyes closed, her face etched with sorrow. From this moment on, she would be alone. She was only twenty, but why did it feel as though she had already lived an entire life? She didn't want to stay in Salve City anymore. She needed to leave, to disappear far away. But now, she had no money. Where could she go? Would she ask Vincent for money? She had to keep living, to prove to everyone who had mocked her that one day, she would slap their faces with her achievements. But what other choice did she have? How could she escape this place, this city, if not through death? Her eyes still closed, Deidre's mind scrambled through every possible future, searching for some shred of hope. Then, suddenly, a thought flashed through her mind. She opened her eyes, her gaze trembling slightly. Perhaps she still had one chance left. She stood up, found her phone, and dialed her mentor's number. After a few beeps, the call was answered, and her mentor's voice, warm with a smile, came through the receiver. "Deidre?" "It's me, Professor." Deidre's voice was hoarse. "Congratulations on your wedding today. If I hadn't been abroad for an academic exchange this week, I would have definitely come to your wedding." Deidre's throat tightened, her nose burning. Her voice cracked as she responded, "Professor, I… I want to ask you something." "Go ahead." Deidre took a deep breath, summoning all the strength she had left before speaking, "Is it… possible for me to reclaim my study-abroad spot?" There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by her mentor's surprised voice. "Didn't you say you were planning to stay in Salve City after marriage? What's changed? Has your husband agreed to it?" The wedding had been canceled. She didn't have a husband. Deidre barely managed a smile, her lips twitching silently, before speaking as calmly as she could. "No… I just think the opportunity to study abroad with a full scholarship is too rare." "Yes, it is. There are only three spots in the whole school, and you were the top choice. You know, for your field—finance—the offers from top international universities are extremely precious. This means you could stay in a foreign country and work there after graduation." Deidre opened her mouth but couldn't find the words. What was there to say? She had given up a brilliant future for a man she had believed was her one true love, only to end up as a fool, tossed aside in a fleeting illusion. "Deidre?" Her mentor's voice cut through the silence, noticing the quiet on the other end. "Professor, is there still a chance?" "Well, that's hard to say. The spot you gave up has already been filled by someone else." Deidre bit her lip, and the sharp pain in her mouth made her bite down harder, blood filling her mouth. She gripped the phone tightly, her voice laced with desperation. "Really... no chance at all?" Chapter 8 It seemed that the professor had sensed the unease in Deidre's voice. After a moment, the warm, familiar tone of her mentor returned over the phone. "There could still be a chance. Let me make a call and try to secure it for you." Deidre had always been a top student. Even though she hadn't finished high school, she had been exempted from exams and directly enrolled in the prestigious university in Salve City, completing both her undergraduate and master's degrees in one continuous stretch. Her mentor, who had always kept a close eye on such promising talent, was not one to let someone like Deidre miss out on such an opportunity. "Thank you. I'll wait for your call," Deidre said, her fingers tightening around the phone, turning pale as she bit down hard on her lower lip. Her heart pounded, the anxiety spreading like fire. She waited for an answer. Each second dragged on painfully, like she was being fried alive in a pan. She gripped her phone, staring at the screen, willing it to bring some resolution. Finally, the screen lit up. It was a call from her mentor. With a nervous breath, Deidre answered. "Good news," came the professor's voice. "A spot's available, and it's yours. Deidre, cherish this opportunity. Remember, no matter what others do, your future is yours to hold in your hands. That's the safest bet." Tears welled up in Deidre's eyes, and she started to cry, her joy so overwhelming that it spilled out of her like a river. She bit her lip, trying to control her shaking voice, and spoke each word slowly and deliberately. "Thank you... Thank you, Professor." "Alright, we'll talk later. I've got a lecture to begin." The screen darkened as the call ended, and Deidre, eyes still brimming with tears, looked out the window. Through her blurred vision, she could make out the faint blue sky, the soft white clouds. The vast expanse of the heavens stretched out before her. There was a way after all. The road had not been completely closed off. … Time passed swiftly. Seven years slipped by unnoticed. In Zemenia City, a bustling commercial hub neighboring Salve City, the evening descended, and the lights flickered on in their dazzling array. In the heart of this prime real estate stood the prestigious Wilton Grand Hotel, a symbol of high society, where the city's elite gathered for their business soirées. Outside the hotel, a barrier of security personnel kept the press at bay, forcing the journalists to crane their necks, helplessly watching the spectacle from a distance. This particular business banquet, however, was by invitation only. Among the luxury cars parked outside, one stood out above the rest: a limited-edition car, the kind that only the ultra-wealthy could afford. Its gleaming body spun gracefully before coming to a halt right in front of the hotel, catching the attention of all those gathered. The door to the driver's side opened, and the man who emerged was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, the kind that made his figure appear long and sharp. He pushed up his rimless glasses, and his finely chiseled face caught the light, his lips curving into the faintest of smiles. His eyes shimmered behind the lenses, and the sight instantly drew gasps of admiration from the women in the crowd. "That's Micah Landon from the Landon Group in Salve City, isn't it?" "He's even more handsome and refined in person than in his photos!" Micah glanced around, his gaze cool and detached, masking a momentary flicker of impatience. A smile, barely perceptible, touched his lips as he adjusted the buttons of his suit jacket, walking swiftly around the car to open the door to the passenger side. A slender, pale hand emerged from the car, resting lightly on Micah's arm as a woman gracefully stepped out. Her custom-made gown, an extravagant piece from this season's collection, hugged her slender form. She smiled as she looked up, her face radiant with the kind of poise that made everyone around her hold their breath. The man was elegant, the woman, stunning. They were the perfect picture of grace and beauty, drawing all eyes. "Look! A limited-edition extended Luxury car! My goodness!" The crowd's attention quickly shifted from Micah and the woman beside him to the new arrival. Micah, too, turned his gaze in response to the sound. Soon, a tall, imposing figure emerged from the luxury car. As he looked closer, Micah recognized the man immediately—Connor Halls, the young heir to the Halls family from a country called Milwarke. But just as quickly, Micah's gaze turned to one of astonishment. Standing by the car, the distinguished and handsome man offered a gentlemanly smile, bending slightly as he extended his hand. From the extended luxury car, a graceful woman emerged. Her delicate arm raised, her soft hand resting in Connor's as she descended. Her gown, a hand-crafted European design, clung to her figure, accentuating every curve, while the blue fabric highlighted her fair skin. The simple pearl necklace around her neck caught the light, and Micah—being an expert in jewelry design—immediately recognized it: a rare, limited-edition piece by renowned European designer Laire, a treasure impossible to acquire. But all Micah could feel was shock, as the woman's appearance completely stole his attention. How could it be her? A ripple of whispers spread through the crowd as people wondered about the identity of this poised and beautiful woman. Micah's gaze finally fixed on her face, her flawless features, the delicate oval of her face framed by perfect makeup.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17042&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	375	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	beokn.com	VIDEO		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/t39.35426-6/474622662_621124363899816_322429193799833600_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=OUQ_iLV5C_QQ7kNvgEA5B40&_nc_oc=Adg9-WSKUQOiKxmk2WokN05mR_vRoDRET02Z8YjovxbqVrgtPXy-sJsuLYVHge-AhpZjbXkaMchEmGbbaPSQZbnM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AzS8vKXMw2ZaP1XmCKRSTd-&oh=00_AYC8DLLCGKpk5AwRUmMDLXn0v1YhlDZDzUYYgoAkVe-b1A&oe=67CBD2FA	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,755,642	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2754964}'	No	2025-03-03 11:42	active	2770	🔞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 is 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. "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. 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, withdrawing his hands reluctantly. "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?" 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'd better leave. 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, and 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, my brother slams a hand into my stomach. "What the heck did you say to him?" "N...nothing. Well, he just asked me why I smelled funny." "Did you tell him?" 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?" "It's none of your business!" Alpha Trey sputters. 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?" I see those crimson eyes land on my swollen face. "I have a proposition for you, Alpha Trey." "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? I was a nobody, no one special. "Deal." After a little more thinking, 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 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		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/t39.35426-6/473995952_1948677285618632_4439027528680502564_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ZI-WisWRGmAQ7kNvgEmm-WG&_nc_oc=AdgcZokmi8F5wejQiB4EDGjikX84_GgPrOWCX4Z_YNaCDTWO7ok6ZDudNg8tcd4Af7TdXEUJdJj661k4Y_YzmR9Z&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AX8MuyUH3A_ufOMvfZvlM7r&oh=00_AYDX8E0S5zNB3DF8rA0Cmkf7NoBeGd9ZiMLfJE8LujgkwQ&oe=67CBA84E	PERSON_PROFILE	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,755,659	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 11:42	active	2770	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=FC3EB673E6B15A8444A25BA1C240369507979861E60F15C7	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475144250_590728480336113_1259705958814646892_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=mhUvi_1G-TkQ7kNvgGVhjOU&_nc_oc=Adg5ppEceSh73J0YxDG4_BuqMI2aGm7GmdLtUdzbG-VDFGjuvckaZ4xp_WHH-C21i5MlR-0sIOAuNuZgsJo7gWg3&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ARDCExucjdYglR-WlfU4tWa&oh=00_AYAhSEO6PPtTm-uX_sPVeFxTRuK2aqNWpWRG6sCWffQYwg&oe=67CBAABD	PERSON_PROFILE	Fun Novel	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,755,475	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2754964}'	Yes	2025-03-03 11:42	active	2770	🔞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!"	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2,755,703	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 11:42	active	2770	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=7FAD4AB9C958D0049D0CB2C31D839D899B3C75461AC21946	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476909391_2878111939029970_8483978702409578513_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=u4eo8sSBmiMQ7kNvgHfR7An&_nc_oc=Adjhmef2ulXKG1vBrweZHN5EMNpG0rVI0EfOIG2Ly6bll-n23q90RE3sZt706Rsa3hwHkKTBi4fP2WCPajoqQ76g&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AND30EwAzQf-oTguILJWkeo&oh=00_AYAx8hQlPdb65VC2oWtVwb4dwaEgNITXKX00d5DCJK9pKA&oe=67CBB4E7	PERSON_PROFILE	Fun Novel	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,755,704	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 11:42	active	2770	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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2,755,705	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 11:42	active	2770	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://fbweb.moboreader.net/57632322-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/57632322-fb_contact-enr25_2-c1-0719-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=233925549638247&exdata=388F74B9C8FF9F6B036BF90489BFEFEFCB9406196E8B49AC	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476165138_2377448772622003_4903062791150101637_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=FLfzfvzkb30Q7kNvgEPBh2t&_nc_oc=AdhnlRNawLOsIUi-ol9fK4pyF-G5ghJvQeHL-yEhzIo98-4cc3hjQ4T9tKEDzhg4hqhsk95qaazrc6EIafhau_b-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AND30EwAzQf-oTguILJWkeo&oh=00_AYAPll7D-FW9kPZwVWfWpZhKQxRk9VyxBy0ILju5J-0daQ&oe=67CBC276	PERSON_PROFILE	Fun Novel	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,755,754	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 11:42	active	2770	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=FC3EB673E6B15A842144B798D2764EBD6137C699A4787849	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475097672_1248603012894440_6583869546341634704_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=B6CSIecJcfEQ7kNvgEdByyG&_nc_oc=AdgRZjj46dC8cwywS6fzxZL8mflpYVHlA-O5kY5EHVHCpi8hMKDPmpWbKbd1_ZFV9L2YiueQhSJzl9Y7pCTvTI7-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ApUO_a7R5IASpJTWuZUAPvn&oh=00_AYDgh0LRPFT8pX2gfZEmA1QuXavbjyYyF1yberisDgpFtQ&oe=67CBC749	PERSON_PROFILE	Fun Novel	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,755,755	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 11:42	active	2770	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=2B4C666170BD1F1526A5DFB7870A5BC0D3B450784F3DC39E	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475906255_1345133790262098_8415512093208023338_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=KvuERy153NsQ7kNvgEPYAcT&_nc_oc=AdgwPJ0bDXsHqFwubpHe1JLJnObIVXMS6NL-f6ol-RRyRvrfFCH56WmA4Ru-gofW4-e0aWrw1BNaDZrTCx-BXBt0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ApUO_a7R5IASpJTWuZUAPvn&oh=00_AYD20T-v_IMJYiDj3T5IOKUI_tJ0XKA8IKIe3MD1oElURA&oe=67CBCFE8	PERSON_PROFILE	Fun reading A	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,755,759	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 11:42	active	2770	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://fbweb.moboreader.net/57632322-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/57632322-fb_contact-enr25_2-c1-0719-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=233925549638247&exdata=388F74B9C8FF9F6BA81D219CDBACC4E42FD034CF7032DF31	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476447540_1641369620107412_4036415129902822376_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=GNVIOL-FFqEQ7kNvgHVdrub&_nc_oc=Adhg6wFcB1aRjXrmdZajE2EG_gnqg7mBhrLQgqY48oFK1EcDfuZqwJUS-R03t01u2JkZGVgDnSlxvICcYdGTZotx&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ApUO_a7R5IASpJTWuZUAPvn&oh=00_AYCMlhKWX7ZUB68LsoAwj_xl3pHYssM886fMaaQs8q1wYg&oe=67CBAB3B	PERSON_PROFILE	Fun Novel	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,755,779	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 11:42	active	2770	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	Romance Novel	https://www.facebook.com/100083771162998/	48,200	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	VIDEO		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65284322-fb_contact-enp98_2-1210-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=DD7CCA935D14747F0F2FD821C14E5D2F7C2D2C23F876D10A	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474874921_3906496946347400_2800548422275102658_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=GUVr7ijgutsQ7kNvgFQSN4W&_nc_oc=Adh9zGaKgtYW-AygekCD--pfz0PUZjnlt4fvCEQBmUEN4Bn8eyDkSs2LrVPlcdhf6Zbf3EPuP1t5CglNCjXFlDBc&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AeaM32SLMCFMir0EJwCx3hI&oh=00_AYBeHtx-Qf85xEVOds0eTArSwfOsAorZv7_1N-meWFc_PA&oe=67CBB055	PERSON_PROFILE	Romance Novel	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,755,792	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 11:42	active	2770	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	Romance Novel	https://www.facebook.com/100083771162998/	48,200	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	VIDEO		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65284322-fb_contact-enp98_2-1210-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=DD7CCA935D14747FB00CE5D79C0269792F97B035C4861F08	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475182595_1680974372822650_5468765500713567234_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=uELyWxD16zAQ7kNvgGbZHcn&_nc_oc=AdgX3QoRdOrpzDKOkp4wChK5WQ-hGJAUXJuSCDPKXfFwS_SFiK1tEZFK6BgVA8rx2-l7pzxgMvlDj11fN1JwI6oY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A14fsPKqehBUZ23SCDcMX2_&oh=00_AYBcpB8nNL4z26z8A2RNntj-hyqF4xa8SIDN8wzaoKDkLg&oe=67CBA2E2	PERSON_PROFILE	Romance Novel	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,755,801	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 11:42	active	2770	Read next chapter	Ever since my father passed away, Richard had taken on a brotherly role in my life, but he often disapproved of my closeness with other guys. Every time I found a boyfriend, Richard scared them off. I complained to my friend, "My brother is stricter than my mom!" Sandra handed me a bag of chips and thought for a moment. "Could it be that Richard likes you? You guys aren't even related by blood." Since then, I deliberately distanced myself from him, but during the New Year, he suddenly brought home a girl. "Tricia, call her sister-in-law." ===== Richard was only a year older than me, but he had always used his role as an older brother to control me. When I was younger, he'd scold me for skipping classes. As I grew older and started dating, he still interfered. One time, my friend joked, "Maybe Richard likes you? You guys aren't even related by blood." Since then, I had tried to keep my distance. But during the holidays, he suddenly brought a girl home. "Tricia, this is my girlfriend. Say 'Hi'." That night, I locked myself in my room and cried uncontrollably. He pulled me out from under the covers and gently wiped away my tears. "You could find a boyfriend to annoy me, but I couldn't do the same to you?" Lately, luck hadn't been on my side. Every time I found a boyfriend, Richard scared them off. I complained to my friend, "My brother is stricter than my mom!" Sandra handed me a bag of chips and thought for a moment. "Could it be that Richard likes you? You guys aren't even related by blood." It was true. My dad and his dad had been old friends, and ever since my dad passed away, his family had been taking care of us. My mother had always told me to treat Richard like a real brother. Even though we weren't related by blood, he was more responsible than any real brother. Back in school, he would watch me do my homework every day and even lecture me if I skipped class. He was only a year older than me, but he had always acted like an adult. Whenever I did something wrong, he'd scold me faster than my mom. "Tricia, that's not polite. Don't do that." "Tricia, don't talk badly about people behind their backs." The thought that he might like me sent chills down my spine. "Don't say that! You're going to give me nightmares!" After leaving Sandra's house, her words kept echoing in my head, as if they had put a spell on me. That night, I dreamed that Richard cornered me at the stairwell, gripping my chin and ki*sing me forcefully. "Who said you could get a boyfriend?" I woke up in a cold sweat, terrified, and immediately blocked his number. Thankfully, I was about to start my internship and wouldn't be home much longer. When I opened the door the next morning, Richard just happened to be walking by. Instinctively, I stepped back and slammed the door shut. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his cold, piercing stare. It felt like a blade cutting right through me. Later that evening, we went to his apartment for dinner. In front of everyone, he asked why I had blocked his number. I stammered, unable to come up with a reason, and had no choice but to unblock him. "I must've clicked the wrong button..." Trying to appease him, I offered him a piece of chicken with a flattering smile. "Richard, you look so thin! You should eat more meat." But something I said must've annoyed him because he even moved his plate farther away. "No need." I had found my internship on my own, even though Richard strongly opposed it and insisted I join his company. But this time, I stood my ground and firmly refused. I was too afraid that if we spent too much time together, something would happen. The apartment we were living in had been rented by Richard, thinking I'd work at his company and we'd commute together. But after starting my job, I found a new place to avoid seeing him as much as possible. My mother would text me every day, asking what I wanted to eat. She'd have the servant cook it and then deliver it to me. I'd give her a whole list of dishes, but Richard was always the one who showed up at my door. I almost slammed it shut again. But when I saw the angry look in his eyes, I stopped myself. I forced a smile and took the food container from him. "Richard, I've missed you." He ignored me, walking around the apartment to inspect the place. "Tricia, I send you so much money every month, and this is where you live? Where's all the money gone?" I hadn't touched a cent of the money he gave me. I didn't want to owe him or his family too much. But I didn't dare tell him that. He'd just accuse me of treating him like a stranger. Honestly, my mother gave me plenty of money every month too, but I had a habit of splurging on my favorite celebrities, so I had to cut costs elsewhere. "I'm investing. High returns, you know." Being a fan was an investment, especially for a toptier star like Lanny--his merch was incredibly popular. Once I got him out of my apartment, I finally breathed a sigh of relief. I swore I'd never overindulge again! Starting my new job, I often joined my colleagues for meals to fit in better. Eventually, I ran out of money and had to call my mother for help. She transferred $50, 000 to me but gave me a strict warning. "If you waste this money on a man again, I'm cutting you off." Chapter 2 Richard's Furious Because I Spent Money On Another Guy Her voice was so loud that my colleagues started giving me strange looks. I was exasperated. I had explained to her more than once that being a fan just meant liking a celebrity and spending some money on their endorsements. But my mom never listened and kept scolding me. "Spending money on men is pointless! You should be the one letting them spend money on you, got it?" Just as I was about to argue with her again, I heard a familiar voice on the other end of the phone. "Mrs. Reynolds, has Tricia gotten a boyfriend?" Why was Richard at my home? Startled, I immediately hung up the phone. The restaurant we picked was pretty popular, and we had to wait over an hour for a table. While we were waiting, a crowd suddenly started gathering. I glanced over and saw Lanny trying to make his way through the mob. Well, no wonder the place was packed--it's a hotspot for celebrities, and fans love to flock to places like this. Lanny saw me and headed my way, with a swarm of fans trailing behind him. It was a little intimidating. Wearing sunglasses, he looked cool, but in reality, he was a total goofball. "Tricia, you're here at my restaurant? Aren't you worried Richard will get angry?" Back in high school, Lanny and I were in the same class. He was great at math, and Sandra and I once went to his house to do homework. He casually put his arm around my shoulder, like we were just buddies, and neither of us thought much of it. But when Richard found out, he beat Lanny up. Ever since then, the two couldn't stand each other. I sighed helplessly. "If I'd known this was your restaurant, I wouldn't have come." I was a fan of Lanny--I went to his concerts and bought his endorsements, but I rarely paid attention to his personal life. One time, he recognized me from the stage and said he'd just give me a ticket next time, but I turned him down. Being a fan meant spending my own money; otherwise, it was not called being a fan, it was just being friends. Lanny handed me a membership card, saying I could eat at his restaurant for free from now on. I took it, thinking that if my mom ever really cut off my funds, at least I'd have a place to get a free meal. After dinner, I got home and saw Richard standing outside my door. I instinctively tried to retreat, but he was quick and called out to me. "Tricia, come here." For some reason, I always felt guilty around Richard. All I ever wanted to do was run away. "Richard, why are you here? Have you eaten yet?" He sneered, and despite it being hot, I felt a chill down my spine. "If I didn't show up, how would I know you're out here spending time with some guy?" I opened the door and explained that it was all just a misunderstanding. But he wasn't having it. He kept pressing, demanding to know who the guy was. I refused to tell him, thinking if he found out I'd spent money on Lanny, he'd beat him heavily. Then he gave me an ultimatum. "A kept man can't make you happy. Break up with him immediately." As I stood up, the card Lanny gave me fell to the floor. I quickly bent down to pick it up, but Richard was faster. He stared at me, eyes full of rage. "You don't even have money for yourself, and you're out here paying for his meals?" I was speechless as he stormed out of the apartment. Two hours later, Laurence, Richard's assistant, called me, practically in tears. "Tricia, what did you do to upset Mr. Stewart this time? I had just finished getting ready for bed when he called me back to the office to revise the proposal. I can't be on call 24/7!" I often visited Richard at his office, so I had gotten close with his secretaries and assistants. Since starting my internship, I knew all too well the pain of being forced to work overtime. Besides, they always gave me useful information--I couldn't just leave them hanging. I called Richard, and he picked up on the third ring, clearly still furious. I was trying to think of a way to coax him without making it obvious, but he was impatient. "Say something." My mind raced. Flattery never failed. "Richard, I heard you're still working overtime? You work so hard! With you in charge, the company is sure to thrive!" He didn't seem impressed. "If I didn't work my butt off, where would you get the money to spoil some guy?" Seeing that talking wouldn't help, I bought some snacks and headed to his office. When I arrived, the lights were still on, even though it was already ten o'clock. The tension in the air was palpable. Before I even reached the conference room, I could already hear Richard's angry voice inside. Chapter 3 I Thought Richard Liked Me, But He Brought Home A Girlfriend "Did I hire you to sit around gossiping all day?" "What kind of proposal is this? Is this your first day on the job? Take it back and redo it." I knocked on the door but didn't wait for a reply before entering. Everyone inside looked at me as if I were their savior, and I could see the gratitude in their eyes. Richard was caught off guard for a moment--he hadn't expected me to show up. I cleared my throat, walked up to him, and set the food down. "Richard, you should eat something. Mrs. Stewart said you haven't had dinner." He didn't move at first, so I grabbed his arm and guided him toward his office. As I closed the door behind us, I gave the others an "OK" signal. Richard's expression softened a bit, but he still looked like he wasn't in the mood to talk. I brought him a bowl of noodles, and he didn't even leave a single bite of meat. He must've been starving. "Richard, you need to take care of yourself. Work will never end. If you keep this up, your parents will be worried sick." He looked into my eyes, and I saw a mix of emotions--too many for me to make sense of. "And what about you?" I started tidying up the takeout container, avoiding his gaze. "Of course, I'm worried too. Why else would I come looking for you in the middle of the night?" My attempt to coax him worked. He picked up his jacket, slung it over his arm, and got ready to leave. "I'll take you home. It's not safe for you to walk alone at night." In the car, I avoided his eyes, pretending to look out the window at the passing scenery. For several days, I didn't contact Richard. My mom thought we were fighting and kept urging me not to be stubborn. "Don't be so willful. Richard is busy with work, and he still makes time to take care of you." I didn't know how to explain it to her, so I just stayed silent. As work got busier, I pushed the matter to the back of my mind. We spoke occasionally, but only about work-related things. Eventually, he became distant with me. I sighed with relief, but at the same time, I felt an odd emptiness inside. Time flew by, and before I knew it, Christmas was approaching. The company gave us a holiday starting three days before Christmas. Coincidentally, Lanny was holding a concert in Alodon, so I flew over to catch it and even took a photo with him afterward. Lanny said we hadn't taken a picture together in years and asked me to send him one. I did, and moments later, I saw him post it on Facebook. "Great concert! Thanks to all the friends who came from far and wide." When I returned to Pheldence, it was Christmas Eve. For some reason, I couldn't shake this feeling of unease. Every year, our families took turns hosting the family dinner, and this year it was at Richard's house. As soon as I walked in, I heard laughter coming from the living room. I headed toward the sound and saw a gentle, elegant girl sitting on the couch. She had long hair, was dressed in a luxury coat, and carried a limited-edition handbag. Clearly, she was the same type of person as Richard. The most important thing was that she was sitting next to him, with her hand linked through his arm. Richard didn't even look at me. His attention was completely on her. I felt an inexplicable surge of frustration and placed my things on the coffee table a bit too forcefully. My mom shot me a sharp look. "Tricia, can you show some manners? You just walked in, and you're already giving attitude." Richard smiled--barely, but I noticed it. Sitting across from them, their closeness felt glaringly obvious. "So, what should I call you?" I asked the girl. For the first time since I arrived, Richard actually looked at me. "Tricia, this is my girlfriend. Say 'Hi'." I didn't know what to say. Suddenly, I understood where that feeling of unease had been coming from. Richard was in a relationship, and I was the one who felt the most hurt. I quickly greeted her, but despite the feast in front of me, everything tasted bland and unappetizing. Once I got home, I rushed to my room, buried myself under the covers, and let the tears flow freely. I didn't know how much time had passed when I suddenly heard the door creak open. I hastily wiped away my tears, pretending to be asleep. Someone walked slowly to my bedside. I could feel his gaze on me as he crouched down. He pulled at my blanket, and though I clung to it, I couldn't match his strength. I opened my eyes to see Richard standing by my bed with a faint smile. "Tricia, why are you crying just because I'm in a relationship?" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/61215322-fb_contact-e	Heat Novel A	https://www.facebook.com/100089743291944/	609	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	IMAGE		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/61215322-fb_contact-enad50_2-250126-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=40775B4BFB7D9725A3E46CF47AAE9B7223F16D6055ACCB6A	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475071421_1484602759593718_1841089231676858376_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=7RfuvQgPvHYQ7kNvgFIeiW6&_nc_oc=Adi02YyK-MHt_N9_oWxlK8sTCaPQKTEkVEqhBMWxglHlkVBfZ7soApWmYtMK1zyJlaa7XfSl3v0So8R3EH2pfUEF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A14fsPKqehBUZ23SCDcMX2_&oh=00_AYAn9tKyG9XC4uPrOrj7QZaBGdrsjy0Ywt-8a_AlpuoSEw&oe=67CBBA65	PERSON_PROFILE	Heat Novel A	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,755,370	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 11:42	active	2770	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=E7C53BDECE0DE88B9B42A5A7859941209EA00F9651BFA51B	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475519342_9124731670975817_5999048616059755225_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=KbxAEJnFRi0Q7kNvgErtGry&_nc_oc=AdhoVXedAgdVjFhP2PgrP0X6fbZBJWxp4XzqgWg0GOmMIqgQQgQz3rMQ9rZEjKfDWjY4-X0BMpI9PkLxdY2NTYW3&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoZfHKf9K9T4GLWlX8muenT&oh=00_AYBlB-4XmNJuXVBeNZyUxgv5uygDBNVTmsTkA9X5T2GgKw&oe=67CBCC65	PERSON_PROFILE	Popular romance stories	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,755,657	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 11:42	active	2770	Read next chapter	Ever since my father passed away, Richard had taken on a brotherly role in my life, but he often disapproved of my closeness with other guys. Every time I found a boyfriend, Richard scared them off. I complained to my friend, "My brother is stricter than my mom!" Sandra handed me a bag of chips and thought for a moment. "Could it be that Richard likes you? You guys aren't even related by blood." Since then, I deliberately distanced myself from him, but during the New Year, he suddenly brought home a girl. "Tricia, call her sister-in-law." ===== Richard was only a year older than me, but he had always used his role as an older brother to control me. When I was younger, he'd scold me for skipping classes. As I grew older and started dating, he still interfered. One time, my friend joked, "Maybe Richard likes you? You guys aren't even related by blood." Since then, I had tried to keep my distance. But during the holidays, he suddenly brought a girl home. "Tricia, this is my girlfriend. Say 'Hi'." That night, I locked myself in my room and cried uncontrollably. He pulled me out from under the covers and gently wiped away my tears. "You could find a boyfriend to annoy me, but I couldn't do the same to you?" Lately, luck hadn't been on my side. Every time I found a boyfriend, Richard scared them off. I complained to my friend, "My brother is stricter than my mom!" Sandra handed me a bag of chips and thought for a moment. "Could it be that Richard likes you? You guys aren't even related by blood." It was true. My dad and his dad had been old friends, and ever since my dad passed away, his family had been taking care of us. My mother had always told me to treat Richard like a real brother. Even though we weren't related by blood, he was more responsible than any real brother. Back in school, he would watch me do my homework every day and even lecture me if I skipped class. He was only a year older than me, but he had always acted like an adult. Whenever I did something wrong, he'd scold me faster than my mom. "Tricia, that's not polite. Don't do that." "Tricia, don't talk badly about people behind their backs." The thought that he might like me sent chills down my spine. "Don't say that! You're going to give me nightmares!" After leaving Sandra's house, her words kept echoing in my head, as if they had put a spell on me. That night, I dreamed that Richard cornered me at the stairwell, gripping my chin and ki*sing me forcefully. "Who said you could get a boyfriend?" I woke up in a cold sweat, terrified, and immediately blocked his number. Thankfully, I was about to start my internship and wouldn't be home much longer. When I opened the door the next morning, Richard just happened to be walking by. Instinctively, I stepped back and slammed the door shut. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his cold, piercing stare. It felt like a blade cutting right through me. Later that evening, we went to his apartment for dinner. In front of everyone, he asked why I had blocked his number. I stammered, unable to come up with a reason, and had no choice but to unblock him. "I must've clicked the wrong button..." Trying to appease him, I offered him a piece of chicken with a flattering smile. "Richard, you look so thin! You should eat more meat." But something I said must've annoyed him because he even moved his plate farther away. "No need." I had found my internship on my own, even though Richard strongly opposed it and insisted I join his company. But this time, I stood my ground and firmly refused. I was too afraid that if we spent too much time together, something would happen. The apartment we were living in had been rented by Richard, thinking I'd work at his company and we'd commute together. But after starting my job, I found a new place to avoid seeing him as much as possible. My mother would text me every day, asking what I wanted to eat. She'd have the servant cook it and then deliver it to me. I'd give her a whole list of dishes, but Richard was always the one who showed up at my door. I almost slammed it shut again. But when I saw the angry look in his eyes, I stopped myself. I forced a smile and took the food container from him. "Richard, I've missed you." He ignored me, walking around the apartment to inspect the place. "Tricia, I send you so much money every month, and this is where you live? Where's all the money gone?" I hadn't touched a cent of the money he gave me. I didn't want to owe him or his family too much. But I didn't dare tell him that. He'd just accuse me of treating him like a stranger. Honestly, my mother gave me plenty of money every month too, but I had a habit of splurging on my favorite celebrities, so I had to cut costs elsewhere. "I'm investing. High returns, you know." Being a fan was an investment, especially for a toptier star like Lanny--his merch was incredibly popular. Once I got him out of my apartment, I finally breathed a sigh of relief. I swore I'd never overindulge again! Starting my new job, I often joined my colleagues for meals to fit in better. Eventually, I ran out of money and had to call my mother for help. She transferred $50, 000 to me but gave me a strict warning. "If you waste this money on a man again, I'm cutting you off." Chapter 2 Richard's Furious Because I Spent Money On Another Guy Her voice was so loud that my colleagues started giving me strange looks. I was exasperated. I had explained to her more than once that being a fan just meant liking a celebrity and spending some money on their endorsements. But my mom never listened and kept scolding me. "Spending money on men is pointless! You should be the one letting them spend money on you, got it?" Just as I was about to argue with her again, I heard a familiar voice on the other end of the phone. "Mrs. Reynolds, has Tricia gotten a boyfriend?" Why was Richard at my home? Startled, I immediately hung up the phone. The restaurant we picked was pretty popular, and we had to wait over an hour for a table. While we were waiting, a crowd suddenly started gathering. I glanced over and saw Lanny trying to make his way through the mob. Well, no wonder the place was packed--it's a hotspot for celebrities, and fans love to flock to places like this. Lanny saw me and headed my way, with a swarm of fans trailing behind him. It was a little intimidating. Wearing sunglasses, he looked cool, but in reality, he was a total goofball. "Tricia, you're here at my restaurant? Aren't you worried Richard will get angry?" Back in high school, Lanny and I were in the same class. He was great at math, and Sandra and I once went to his house to do homework. He casually put his arm around my shoulder, like we were just buddies, and neither of us thought much of it. But when Richard found out, he beat Lanny up. Ever since then, the two couldn't stand each other. I sighed helplessly. "If I'd known this was your restaurant, I wouldn't have come." I was a fan of Lanny--I went to his concerts and bought his endorsements, but I rarely paid attention to his personal life. One time, he recognized me from the stage and said he'd just give me a ticket next time, but I turned him down. Being a fan meant spending my own money; otherwise, it was not called being a fan, it was just being friends. Lanny handed me a membership card, saying I could eat at his restaurant for free from now on. I took it, thinking that if my mom ever really cut off my funds, at least I'd have a place to get a free meal. After dinner, I got home and saw Richard standing outside my door. I instinctively tried to retreat, but he was quick and called out to me. "Tricia, come here." For some reason, I always felt guilty around Richard. All I ever wanted to do was run away. "Richard, why are you here? Have you eaten yet?" He sneered, and despite it being hot, I felt a chill down my spine. "If I didn't show up, how would I know you're out here spending time with some guy?" I opened the door and explained that it was all just a misunderstanding. But he wasn't having it. He kept pressing, demanding to know who the guy was. I refused to tell him, thinking if he found out I'd spent money on Lanny, he'd beat him heavily. Then he gave me an ultimatum. "A kept man can't make you happy. Break up with him immediately." As I stood up, the card Lanny gave me fell to the floor. I quickly bent down to pick it up, but Richard was faster. He stared at me, eyes full of rage. "You don't even have money for yourself, and you're out here paying for his meals?" I was speechless as he stormed out of the apartment. Two hours later, Laurence, Richard's assistant, called me, practically in tears. "Tricia, what did you do to upset Mr. Stewart this time? I had just finished getting ready for bed when he called me back to the office to revise the proposal. I can't be on call 24/7!" I often visited Richard at his office, so I had gotten close with his secretaries and assistants. Since starting my internship, I knew all too well the pain of being forced to work overtime. Besides, they always gave me useful information--I couldn't just leave them hanging. I called Richard, and he picked up on the third ring, clearly still furious. I was trying to think of a way to coax him without making it obvious, but he was impatient. "Say something." My mind raced. Flattery never failed. "Richard, I heard you're still working overtime? You work so hard! With you in charge, the company is sure to thrive!" He didn't seem impressed. "If I didn't work my butt off, where would you get the money to spoil some guy?" Seeing that talking wouldn't help, I bought some snacks and headed to his office. When I arrived, the lights were still on, even though it was already ten o'clock. The tension in the air was palpable. Before I even reached the conference room, I could already hear Richard's angry voice inside. Chapter 3 I Thought Richard Liked Me, But He Brought Home A Girlfriend "Did I hire you to sit around gossiping all day?" "What kind of proposal is this? Is this your first day on the job? Take it back and redo it." I knocked on the door but didn't wait for a reply before entering. Everyone inside looked at me as if I were their savior, and I could see the gratitude in their eyes. Richard was caught off guard for a moment--he hadn't expected me to show up. I cleared my throat, walked up to him, and set the food down. "Richard, you should eat something. Mrs. Stewart said you haven't had dinner." He didn't move at first, so I grabbed his arm and guided him toward his office. As I closed the door behind us, I gave the others an "OK" signal. Richard's expression softened a bit, but he still looked like he wasn't in the mood to talk. I brought him a bowl of noodles, and he didn't even leave a single bite of meat. He must've been starving. "Richard, you need to take care of yourself. Work will never end. If you keep this up, your parents will be worried sick." He looked into my eyes, and I saw a mix of emotions--too many for me to make sense of. "And what about you?" I started tidying up the takeout container, avoiding his gaze. "Of course, I'm worried too. Why else would I come looking for you in the middle of the night?" My attempt to coax him worked. He picked up his jacket, slung it over his arm, and got ready to leave. "I'll take you home. It's not safe for you to walk alone at night." In the car, I avoided his eyes, pretending to look out the window at the passing scenery. For several days, I didn't contact Richard. My mom thought we were fighting and kept urging me not to be stubborn. "Don't be so willful. Richard is busy with work, and he still makes time to take care of you." I didn't know how to explain it to her, so I just stayed silent. As work got busier, I pushed the matter to the back of my mind. We spoke occasionally, but only about work-related things. Eventually, he became distant with me. I sighed with relief, but at the same time, I felt an odd emptiness inside. Time flew by, and before I knew it, Christmas was approaching. The company gave us a holiday starting three days before Christmas. Coincidentally, Lanny was holding a concert in Alodon, so I flew over to catch it and even took a photo with him afterward. Lanny said we hadn't taken a picture together in years and asked me to send him one. I did, and moments later, I saw him post it on Facebook. "Great concert! Thanks to all the friends who came from far and wide." When I returned to Pheldence, it was Christmas Eve. For some reason, I couldn't shake this feeling of unease. Every year, our families took turns hosting the family dinner, and this year it was at Richard's house. As soon as I walked in, I heard laughter coming from the living room. I headed toward the sound and saw a gentle, elegant girl sitting on the couch. She had long hair, was dressed in a luxury coat, and carried a limited-edition handbag. Clearly, she was the same type of person as Richard. The most important thing was that she was sitting next to him, with her hand linked through his arm. Richard didn't even look at me. His attention was completely on her. I felt an inexplicable surge of frustration and placed my things on the coffee table a bit too forcefully. My mom shot me a sharp look. "Tricia, can you show some manners? You just walked in, and you're already giving attitude." Richard smiled--barely, but I noticed it. Sitting across from them, their closeness felt glaringly obvious. "So, what should I call you?" I asked the girl. For the first time since I arrived, Richard actually looked at me. "Tricia, this is my girlfriend. Say 'Hi'." I didn't know what to say. Suddenly, I understood where that feeling of unease had been coming from. Richard was in a relationship, and I was the one who felt the most hurt. I quickly greeted her, but despite the feast in front of me, everything tasted bland and unappetizing. Once I got home, I rushed to my room, buried myself under the covers, and let the tears flow freely. I didn't know how much time had passed when I suddenly heard the door creak open. I hastily wiped away my tears, pretending to be asleep. Someone walked slowly to my bedside. I could feel his gaze on me as he crouched down. He pulled at my blanket, and though I clung to it, I couldn't match his strength. I opened my eyes to see Richard standing by my bed with a faint smile. "Tricia, why are you crying just because I'm in a relationship?" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/61215322-fb_contact-e	Heat Novel A	https://www.facebook.com/100089743291944/	609	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	IMAGE		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/61215322-fb_contact-enad50_2-250126-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=40775B4BFB7D97255721F74107D12142A65D254444B84724	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475057386_928139836099219_5175854132809305028_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=hbugJ2txZTsQ7kNvgF4tNFd&_nc_oc=Adh554sTEm3yunstNQhtV1jbpHY3wQv_0zadIObxT6iUDRcW2Oz8tpn5maPVNU5nHSf5xK4C_6ChE4lJJ-5HPJ1D&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ARDCExucjdYglR-WlfU4tWa&oh=00_AYAvpkBEM1M-rNy76ef3zhqLwaW0wXa_o4Lz-gi2Ci1P0w&oe=67CBB5E3	PERSON_PROFILE	Heat Novel A	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,754,794	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2754779}'	No	2025-03-03 11:42	active	2770	Overcome Procrastination Naturally	Overcoming procrastination doesn’t have to be hard! Created by a team of psychologists and behavioral change experts, Brainway is designed to: 1️⃣ Identify your unique “Procrastination Type” 2️⃣ Reveal the unique “Trigger Point” that makes you procrastinate 3️⃣ Provide personalized, simple, and effective strategies to help you stop putting things off 🏆 And let you join thousands of people enjoying 100% stress-free productivity with Brainway! 🔥 Take a short quiz and see how Brainway can help you break free from procrastination & embrace your natural productivity today!👇	LEARN_MORE	https://brainway.app/start?qz=pro1&locale=EN_US	Brainway App	https://www.facebook.com/61551442591062/	23,451	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	brainway.app	VIDEO		https://brainway.app/start?qz=pro1&locale=EN_US	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467420556_551261834174244_2977659760004251380_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=saNvlrLQJ-8Q7kNvgFUi4Be&_nc_oc=AdiVeNAXjzUz2yG26BdfXsCmm8jI2ESKtHHKUMZunsxctLSHG9SuIhWAq4F0iLppCZnS9hqQXyuUgpEr3zHvUv4t&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AGSp5D4OCHoIo1PmhnZr4Rl&oh=00_AYBK29z5xKOPPKe9PcVXTvihPV8PlVkdCjREaQezhy7tMQ&oe=67CBA09B	PERSON_PROFILE	Brainway App	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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