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2,767,957	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 19:09	active	2791	Find your soulmate here👉	💥 💃 Looking for exciting connections? Meet and chat with singles near you. 👩 It's fast, fun, and free. 💋 Try this website today! 💖	LEARN_MORE	https://hibbly.com/l/QL6VTV	Hibbly	https://www.facebook.com/hibbly.dating/	13,059	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	hibbly.com	IMAGE	💖📲👀👩‍❤️‍👨	https://hibbly.com/l/QL6VTV	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468824867_586213320478098_7310127135113846002_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=s9XvWcDtXH8Q7kNvgE7zOHS&_nc_oc=AdgU5oWLElGUMRRocclGwZUyJPAXZiBMrlwru30m5nDeDLFB46G_KN41Cli6kHaU209FB4B0KVTvArsk0hg_-SI_&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AS7tjjF38YR4HbR4kkm0Why&oh=00_AYARM6ZIDOK-NhggjCsZC8VPJLxr7LFxosELhmQvPuDYxw&oe=67CC1492	PERSON_PROFILE	Hibbly	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,768,431	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 19:10	active	2791	Read next chapter	To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blde. "You're the one who climbed into my bd back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi*ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his bdmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my bd, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in bd. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her chst. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red mrk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my bd too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You bch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame graning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e	Popular romance stories	https://www.facebook.com/100083149047490/	17,999	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	VIDEO		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0130-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=673595984708315&exdata=E7C53BDECE0DE88BDADC269AB27DF016F28586F719224975	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475154394_1534660370526345_6983058358579341797_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=7WTOql7mkcAQ7kNvgGnZPW8&_nc_oc=AdgBlCrcMurdD1ze4E5PiaeXRJ5Ss68hSXK_wdvdN10MLQq8itySyd6iIjge38Ik00iCmOe3xruTRY549sovfWvm&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AGU1kWx0hw2IlXu6fPuRvNW&oh=00_AYDpvF78nPt-3eU5nIfD4ffL21xj61aYaVUr8PcncydhtA&oe=67CC0B9A	PERSON_PROFILE	Popular romance stories	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,768,369	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 19:10	active	2791	Read next chapter	To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blde. "You're the one who climbed into my bd back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi*ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his bdmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my bd, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in bd. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her chst. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red mrk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my bd too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You bch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame graning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e	Popular romance stories	https://www.facebook.com/100083149047490/	17,999	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	VIDEO		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0130-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=673595984708315&exdata=E7C53BDECE0DE88B1B07EDF8F169E1689982A7535F477F23	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475645141_935651978676472_6584312006420492222_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=TAS7bVqngaoQ7kNvgHIJMyq&_nc_oc=Adjzd9nnY2Ire6dPPWmM-l38yFpBKfkJ9uwW-l3HczNYDJSGWIWAxkKtk4D86NF6LakVuHPUGoMupLe4uCPokn8p&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A9T7w01jqw1JIkMG-pJHu13&oh=00_AYBxK-nnZongEZ7ezIMU6-bx5cB0Gyd5cvH1OsPmOkoy7g&oe=67CC1A3E	PERSON_PROFILE	Popular romance stories	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,767,986	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2767982}'	Yes	2025-03-03 19:09	active	2791	😍Read the next chapters👉	It was dinner time. Dad glanced at his daughter, who was eating quietly, then frowned as his gaze fell on the empty seat at the end of the table. "Where's that worthless girl gone? Does she expect us all to wait for her?" His tone sharpened as he continued, "Looks like she needs to be punished harder!" The butler, pausing mid-motion as he set down the dishes, answered cautiously, "Mr. Stiles, Miss Jennifer is still in the storage closet. Would you like me to release her?" Dad's hand froze mid-air. His eyes flickered briefly toward the storage closet, a flash of shock crossing his face. He recovered quickly, lifting his wine glass for a sip. "For what? Maybe a few more days in there will teach her a lesson better. Otherwise, she would bully her siblings again." The butler glanced at the two children seated at the table, their cheeks rosy with health and their eyes bright with anticipation for the meal. Internally, he pitied the eldest daughter, who was still locked away. After a brief hesitation, he ventured cautiously, "Mr. Stiles… the storage closet has been quite… quiet these past few days. "Perhaps you should take a look?" Dad put his glass down with a clink and glared at the butler. "She's been in there long enough to tire herself out from screaming. "There's food, water, and air conditioning in there. If she still won't admit her faults, then she doesn't deserve to be let out." The butler seemed to have more to say, but Dad cut him off sharply. "That's enough. We're eating dinner here. Let's not ruin the mood." He waved dismissively before adding, "After dinner, you can ask her if she's willing to apologize. If she apologizes to her sister, she can come out, and the punishment's over." As if I had already been erased from his mind, Dad turned his attention to his son Ian and adopted daughter Wendy. He reached out, placing a peeled prawn into Wendy's bowl. "What's wrong, Wendy? Why aren't you eating? "You love prawns, right? Eat more." He ruffled her hair affectionately. "Are you scared? "Don't worry. I've already punished Jennifer. She'll never dare bully you again." Wendy looked up, her innocent smile shining. "I know you love me the most, Dad. "Honestly, as long as she apologizes, I'll forgive her… "But now that she's being punished, I'm worried she'll hate me even more." "She wouldn't dare!" Dad growled, his anger unmistakable. Then his expression softened as he smiled at her gently. "You're my favorite daughter. She wouldn't dare hate you." Ian grinned and chimed in reassuringly, "Don't worry, Wendy! I'll protect you! I'll chop her hands off if she ever dares to bully you again!" I couldn't suppress a laugh at the irony of Dad's words, but Ian's declaration sent a chill through me. I hadn't expected my brother to make such a horrifying promise, and the cruelty in his eyes told me he wasn't joking. It was bone-chilling. I laughed aloud, but it was a shame no one heard me. I was dead. My spirit had only been able to leave the storage room after I died. Since then, I'd been drifting, watching everything unfold from above. From my bird's eye view, I could see how the storage room door had been sealed. The only ventilation—a small hole—had been blocked with a towel. The storage room had become my coffin. I hadn't been buried alive, but I might as well have been. Chapter 2 Even now, as a spirit, just the sight of the sealed-off storage room door made me feel suffocated. It was as if the darkness would engulf me again at any moment. I staggered backward and quickly made my way to the dining room. There, Dad and Ian surrounded Wendy, their voices soft and comforting. Dad had his arm wrapped protectively around her. “You’ve lost weight recently, Wendy. You should eat more. “I know what happened last time must’ve scared you. It’s only right Jennifer gets punished for what she’s done. “I’ve gone easy on her this time, but don’t worry. I’ll make sure she knows her mistake. That’ll never happen to you again.” Ian chimed in, his tone gentle. “You’re my one and only sister, Wendy…” I stood silently behind them, listening as my father reprimanded me as if I weren’t there, and my brother denied my very existence as his sister. I wanted to cry, but no tears came. By blood, they were my only family. Yet, to them, it felt like I didn’t exist. Being tied up and thrown into that dark storage room had been torture. Yet to Dad, it seemed a fair punishment for the few minutes Wendy had spent in there. The silence and pitch-black darkness terrified me, but there was no escape. I’d gone mad, struggling against the ropes. I had to break a finger just to free myself from their binds. I banged on the door with every ounce of strength I had. I screamed, begged to be released, promised to apologize, and prayed desperately to survive. It was all in vain. All I received in response was my father’s mocking voice. “Scared already? Didn’t it occur to you that Wendy was scared too when you locked her in here?! She’s younger than you! “Stay here and shut up. You should feel how terrified Wendy was. Let’s see if you’ll dare bully your sister again after this. “And you call yourself her older sister? Hmph!” In desperation, I clawed at the door, trying to tear even the smallest slit, a tiny hole to let in air or light. My fingers bled, my nails broke, but it was all for nothing. Hopeless, I let the darkness swallow me. In my daze, I thought I heard Wendy’s voice. “It must be freezing in there, Jennifer. Don’t worry, I’ll make it warm soon.” Then I realized with horror that the air conditioning had been switched to heating mode. It was summer, and the storage room was already unbearably stuffy. As the temperature rose, the room became a sauna—a private Hell. I crawled through the oppressive heat, desperately searching for water to cool myself, only to discover that the food and water in the room had been replaced with trash. I collapsed onto the floor, helpless. Pain blurred my senses. Slowly, my consciousness began to fade. Chapter 3 After ensuring Wendy had eaten enough and was smiling happily again, Dad finally addressed the butler. "Go let Jennifer out. Make sure she's cleaned up and presentable, or she'll ruin everyone's appetite." His expression carried an air of self-satisfaction, as though letting me out of the storage closet after a week was some grand act of generosity. The butler quickly called for others to handle the task. Standing beside Dad, Wendy held his hand with a sweet, innocent smile. "Dad, please don't scold her when she comes out, okay? "She's your daughter, after all… I am not, and I'm just happy enough that you're so kind to me." Dad's eyes softened as he ruffled her hair lovingly. "You're both my daughters. However, you're my little princess." His voice carried a note of pride as he added, "You're too kind, Wendy. I've been far too lenient with Jennifer. "Don't worry. I won't let her bully you ever again. "How dare she lock you in the storage room at all?! I can't even imagine how scared you must have felt." His tone was laced with anger and disappointment, as though I were some irredeemable sinner. I couldn't help but laugh ironically. Wendy had staged the entire incident. And yet, here they were, two fools playing into her hands. A week ago, she had barged into my room, her voice dripping with malice. "I heard you applied to stay in a dorm? "You're an idiot if you think that'll make Dad pay attention to you. "All I need to do is say one word, and I can make them hate you forever. "Without you, I'll be Dad's only daughter, Ian's only sister. Everything you own will belong to me." I refused to waste my energy on her antics and simply shut the door in her face. Fifteen minutes later, she went to the storage room and started banging on the door, shouting as though someone had locked her inside. When Ian returned from his extracurricular class, he immediately "rescued" her from the storage room. Then Wendy made her move. She called Dad, her voice trembling with feigned fear. "Dad, I was so scared. "I know Jennifer doesn't like me, but I didn't think she'd lock me in the storage room. It was so terrifying. "I know I'm not related to you by blood, and it's only fair that Jennifer doesn't like me, but it was so dark in there. "Maybe you should send me back to the orphanage, Dad. Then Jennifer wouldn't feel so angry about my existence anymore." Chapter 4 Dad was in the middle of a meeting when he received the call. Without a second thought, he rushed home. As soon as he arrived, he carried a pale Wendy and roared, "You are my daughter, Wendy. No one can send you away! "Don't say a word about leaving again." At first, I thought something serious had happened, but when I stepped out of my room and saw the scene before me, the bitter irony wasn't lost on me. I was speechless. Wendy was no delicate porcelain doll, nor was she afraid of the dark. A short time in the storage room hardly warranted such theatrics. That was until Ian shouted, "It's all Jennifer's fault! She's the one who locked Wendy in the storage room! Who knows how long she would've been trapped if I hadn't come back!" Dad stormed upstairs, dragged me out of my room by my hair, and shoved me into the storage closet. Tying me up, he raged, and in that moment, I finally understood—this family had no place for me. "How could you be so evil, Jennifer?!" Ian yelled, his eyes blazing with anger. "How could you lock Wendy up? She's just a girl! Do you even know how scared she must have been? You're not my sister anymore! I refuse to have someone so evil as my sister!" "Ian is right," Dad growled, his glare cutting through me like a knife. "How could you be so heartless at such a young age? You're hopeless. "This is my house, and you have no right to order anyone around here. "You like locking Wendy in the storage closet, huh? Fine! Then you can stay in there until you understand how it feels! "You won't be allowed out until you're truly sorry for what you've done." Even now, Dad believed it was all my fault. He would accept nothing less than my complete submission—me on my knees, sobbing and begging for forgiveness. Too bad. They'd never hear that from me. The butler's trembling voice cut through the tension. "Mr. Stiles… Mr. Stiles! Miss Jennifer… is dead!" Dad's hand froze midair, hovering above Wendy's head. I stared at him, refusing to miss even the faintest flicker of emotion. Was it regret I was hoping for? Or fear? There was none. Instead, he smiled faintly and sighed in annoyance. "How dare she. "Dead? As if." Shaking his head, he added coldly, "I know my daughter. She'd do anything to survive. "Tell her to stop playing games before I call the crematorium. Then she'll really be dead." The butler stood frozen, clearly shocked. "What are you waiting for?" Dad snapped. "You have thirty minutes to get her cleaned up and ready to apologize to Wendy. Or else, you can leave with her!" "Mr. Stiles…" The butler hesitated, his voice faltering. "Get on with it!" Dad snarled, throwing the dessert in his hand—meant for Wendy—at the butler. The butler had no choice but to retreat. Dad turned back to Wendy with a smile, wiping her mouth tenderly. "We're out of dessert. Why don't we eat something else, hmm? "Wendy, when Jennifer apologizes to you later, don't forgive her too quickly, alright? "She better kneel and beg for your forgiveness before you even think about it. You're too kind to her. "You can't be too nice. Remember my words, Wendy." Wendy smirked faintly but then replaced it with an anxious, innocent expression. "I'm sure she's sorry, Dad. "She'd be so sad if I didn't forgive her…" "You're too kind, Wendy," Dad said with pride. Ian wrapped an arm around Wendy's body, smiling contentedly. What a picture-perfect, loving family. This was my so-called blood-related family. I smirked at the cruel irony and tried to move away, only to realize that I couldn't. My body was still there, binding me to this place. I had no choice but to watch as they acted all lovely-dovey in front of me, a grotesque display of affection that only deepened the bitterness in my heart. Chapter 5 Things weren't always like this, not before Wendy came into our lives. Back then, I still had a mother and father who loved me, and Ian was just a little boy. Ian and I would play together, Mom would tell me bedtime stories, and Dad would take me on walks in the park. Everything changed three summers ago. Mom and Dad left for the ancestral home while Ian and I stayed behind for school. A few days later, Dad returned with two pieces of devastating news. Mom had been in a car accident at the ancestral home. She didn't survive. And before her death, she and Dad had adopted the daughter of an old friend. I lost my mother but gained a sister. At first, I welcomed Wendy. I thought of her as the last connection I had to Mom since Mom had adopted her before the accident. I wanted a sister, too, so I did my best to care for her. I made sure no one at school bullied her, keeping an eye out for trouble in her class. I helped her with homework and took care of her whenever she was sick. I gave her everything I could as a sister, treating her like she was my own blood. However, one day, everything changed. I had gone to her class to bring her burn ointment, only to overhear her talking to her classmates. "My sister burned me by accident," she said, her voice soft and pitiful. "It's my fault—I shouldn't have brought her such a hot drink. "Please don't say bad things about her. She's really nice to me. She asks me to do chores and serve her tea, but she's never bullied me." I stood frozen, stunned by the lies. The burn on her hand wasn't my doing. She'd wanted to make coffee for Dad but claimed I had forced her to serve me hot tea. Dad had already punished me for her injury, yet I hadn't blamed her. I felt guilty for letting her into the kitchen in the first place. After hearing her lies, I confronted her at school. That day marked a turning point in my life—or maybe the change had started long before. Dad stopped doting on me. Ian no longer followed me around like my little shadow. I became an outsider in my own home, the person everyone vented their frustrations on. As I recalled the past three years, my body shuddered. Perhaps it was because the spirit itself was numb, but it felt like I had returned to the storage closet again. Chapter 6 My father's expression darkened as the half-hour mark passed, and I still hadn't appeared. "It's already been thirty minutes! What? Does she think I can't do anything to her?! "What a stubborn girl! She still doesn't understand what she's done wrong! "Hmph! I'd like to see what tricks she has up her sleeve!" In a fit of anger, he threw the teacup in his hand onto the ground, the sharp crack echoing through the room. I watched silently from behind, amused. Beneath his anger, there was a flicker of worry, though he'd never admit it. I couldn't help but snicker when he knocked into a chair as he stood up. "Wait here for me, Wendy. I'll drag Jennifer over to apologize." He stormed toward the storage room, his steps heavy with frustration. Just as he neared the door, a rat darted out, causing him to jolt in surprise. "What's going on? Where did that rat come from?!" The butler stood pale-faced by the door, his expression twisted in a grimace as he turned away. "Mr. Stiles… Perhaps you should take a look for yourself." I watched as my father stiffened, his movements robotic as he approached the storage closet. His gaze fell inside, landing on my corpse. I must admit, I was curious to see his reaction. Would it shock him? Would he finally feel remorse? Instead, he roared, "Jennifer Stiles! What the heck is this?! Get out here right now, or I'll lock you in that closet forever!" Tsk. I clicked my tongue beside him, my spectral form floating nearby. 'You should've come while I was still alive if you wanted to see me. 'I wanted to come out too, you know. Look at my hands. I was banging on that door until my dying breath. My fingers are all broken. 'Surely, my death must bring you satisfaction, hmm? 'You killed me.' My father, oblivious to my voice, leaned into the closet for a better look. That's when he truly saw it—what was left of my rat-eaten corpse lying in the middle of the storage room, surrounded by scurrying vermin. "Ah!" he gasped, stumbling back. The sudden noise startled the rats, sending them scampering. A few even leaped onto him, climbing up his body. He shrieked in shock, frantically swatting and shaking them off. The absurdity of the scene made me laugh aloud. It was rare to see him in such a humiliating state. If only I could record this moment on video. It would've made for a masterpiece.	LEARN_MORE	https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	375	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	www.qknymufd.com	VIDEO	As the last sliver of light disappeared, swallowed by the oppressive darkness, I struggled helplessly. A week passed before my father finally remembered my existence and decided it was time to end my punishment. "Let's hope this week served as a good lesson for you, Jennifer. If this happens again, you will no longer be allowed in this house." He would never know that I had already taken my last breath in that suffocating room. My body had begun to rot in the darkness.	https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=17977&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475992374_1595827807737745_3696221997436330573_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=0v5_uiTIFcwQ7kNvgHLnbO2&_nc_oc=AdhbuciTINuJpUBXcyp07CqHREjt7fBeKa_fVuwOs30RwpOAGbT-W1Y9Fj0EHXaPm6N0XwFiBqfXq4RMrmoZ_L87&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AphqUfnnD_Fe73718BCW6kf&oh=00_AYCCCWOa7u2QEhkD6Wqt0Dq_wU9Ed1m48c4UKtVY_SJE0g&oe=67CC1EEB	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,768,394	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 19:10	active	2791	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	IMAGE		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=1A6334CBF30555EA9255F9B899D8EBC8859985F0FDAD2741	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476325968_1344845876709897_3001772866659280518_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=-8pIcOE5NsUQ7kNvgGXPM8q&_nc_oc=AdhllRN4Eg973I4TejCfdQbAqjl-KRPSVSFGre--arIVVbfTI6E2m33HIcRuum324aTKfZTrRynzP8tgGdiZJ2xx&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AQ2twZbCXhXTIQuGz4BSo7n&oh=00_AYDEug4U-Vyrl2e2qhQeQsRKIJMk13iqIB4uUJ59R-J-mQ&oe=67CC1249	PERSON_PROFILE	Heat Novel A	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,768,509	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2768041}'	Yes	2025-03-03 19:11	active	2791	🔞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/	3,810	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	wwwedb.com	IMAGE		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/t39.35426-6/474192496_1601534513843827_7046531810922907402_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=9AWvFD_yGG8Q7kNvgEj9wWp&_nc_oc=AdhxPifeGhPPEubpKbppqvryxXSEjkomjTJQKD8O7L0Ahn_EhKx_U4rRml35AnviGPS57fB0Rms4FqaNovTSsUyC&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ASBUmuJmctSG3ZvLraiivRb&oh=00_AYDpK4c2joasdSQsY7FOyZy5XE30MH7tmJZTngoEQe5hCw&oe=67CC0B81	PERSON_PROFILE	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,768,625	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2768596}'	Yes	2025-03-03 19:11	active	2791	🔥🔥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	IMAGE		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17042&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474561798_1826350784803137_8056713056568368066_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Ekh93uAvouMQ7kNvgE6tsUc&_nc_oc=AdiZYr3Lqr1Hz-v6ZnIAkRIFM4ITdHsgE4EpiE4ZBonweksNugPz1zdXaOXas9BY0fd7TMY8gabUTHtK76ChnIOQ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ADlJQ6m5bL4NlR4Omuel0iZ&oh=00_AYD2KtdUxdTdKZJNoWqOUXAqWq4eHZys3sndWFu2d6lzCA&oe=67CC26AF	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,768,083	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2768041}'	No	2025-03-03 19:10	active	2791	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	“Useless Wolf! Clean the office quickly! Don't you know that our guest, Alpha Dane of the biggest pack Black Shadow, will be arriving soon?” Beta Kyle slaps me and rudely kicks me towards the office before moving away. Quietly closing the door, I slide down to the floor frustrated. I hate this house. As the daughter of the late Alpha, everyone in the pack takes great joy in torturing me, because of an unforgivable sin I made at 6. I thought that when I turned 18, I could finally escape, but 4 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. “Uhheem” This moment, someone clears their throat and I freeze. Who else is here?？ 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 Alpha’s?” 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 was going to finish 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... Twice my abilities were bound actually. He leans forward, carefully placing his glass on the small table next to the chair. I could feel him staring at me, “Why would someone do that?” “It was a punishment.” I whisper. It wasn’t far from the entire truth but it was the simplest answer I could give. 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 was him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was 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. I was lucky someone was present, at least someone understands the importance of this deal.” What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brain freezes when I see my brother glaring at me. “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 vermin?” “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 know Alpha Dane is studying me. No one could ever quite believe how someone could do something so disgusting as poisoning their own parents. I stand there, with my head hanging low, wishing for the ground to open up and suck me in. There are movements around me. He is standing directly in front of me. With a rough finger he tilts my face up towards his, forcing me to look at him. Slowly, his hand latches onto my throat but he doesn’t squeeze. “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 brother. “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 my throat. “We all know that standard wolfsbane doesn’t affect us anymore. We evolved from that thing centuries ago.” What? What did he mean? Wolfsbane wasn’t lethal. It had been drummed into me since I could walk. “Which only leaves Blood of Wolfsbane.” Alpha Dane mutters. “You weren’t there, Alpha Dane.” My brother muttered through gritted teeth as his eyes narrowed to slits. “It was Wolfsbane.” He nods his head. “You are right, I was not present.” Great, now there was someone else who could remind me of something I had done by accident, years ago. “But tell me this, where would a six year old get Blood of Wolfsbane?” “I didn’t ask you here to talk about my slave!” Alpha Trey spits. “Or what happened to my parents.” Alpha Dane grabs his leather jacket from the chair. Unlike other Alphas, he seems to dress more casually. A simple black tee and jeans cover his huge frame. “You’re right and now I have a few things to mull over.” “I thought we agreed.” My brother exclaims. “Nothing has been signed, right?” He glances at me, and continues, "I have a proposition for you, Alpha Trey. And if you don’t agree, you will not get my help. Instead, you will become my enemy.” “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.” I suddenly raised my head, staring at Alpha Dane with wide eyes in disbelief. Me? Why would he want me? A person who murdered her own parents? -- As I was waiting at the door with my luggage, I heard a playful laugh coming from the car next to me. "She's the charm! I wonder how long she can live?" “Shut up! Before you say something you regret!” I was startled by the familiar deep voice. That car... was the one Alpha Dane sent to pick me up? Bang! I watch Alpha Dane gets out of the car and close the door, striding in front of me. He reaches a hand out and cups my face and starts, “Are you ready?” I bit my bottom lip and nod slightly, clutching the barely full carrier bag to my chest. “Where are the rest of your things? Everything needs to be packed.” “That’s all she has.” Trey snorts as he makes his appearance with his Luna. “That’s it?” Alpha Dane stares at my brother. “She’s what, in her early twenties and that’s all her belongings?” “What more does she need?!” The Luna sneers, "Take her Alpha Dane. I’m sure she will be as useful a slave to you as she is to us.” Her shrill voice goes straight through me. “Shut up, bimbo! You should make yourself familiar with our agreement.” Alpha Dane snaps. “It seems your Alpha has not told you everything.” He takes the contract from his Beta Eric, then shave it against Alpha Trey’s chest. “I agreed that you could take her as part of our deal.” My brother signs without reading and practically throws the contract back at Alpha Dane. “Done.” Alpha Trey mutters. “Is this my only option?” I whispers to my self, keeping my eyes low. What could someone like him possibly want with me? “Neah?" Alpha Dane steps in front of me and hold a hand out to me. "Come. It’s time for us to go.” ... A few hours later. I stares up at big villa of Alpha Dane, gasping a little. It was easily three times the size of my previous home. “Let me give you a tour.” Alpha Dane suggests. I follow him in with clutching the carrier bag to my chest, not speaking a word. “Tell me, what do you need. Underwear, jeans, dresses, shoes?” “I don’t need anything.” I whispers, feeling uneasy. I hear Alpha Dane sighs, who starts scribbling something down. I scrunch my face up when he measurs me. It's painful. “Are you injured?" I bit my bottom lip and shake my head. “You have to say something, Neah. I cannot read your mind. When I mark you, at least I will know what you are feeling.” “Mark me?” “You….You brought me so that you could mark me?” I stare at him in disbelief, eyes wide. “Yes, I will mark you.” His rough fingers tip my face up, and his crimson eyes flash to me. “If Trey had bothered reading the contract, he would have discovered that you were not bought, Neah." "You are not a slave, but to be my bride. MY TENTH BRIDE.” Crap. He's that ruthless man who rumored to have killed all his nine mates?!!	LEARN_MORE	https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&	New world publications	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	3,810	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/t39.35426-6/480601332_949392617259768_6529904405128581198_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=wqYxq9_pfe0Q7kNvgEgGZlx&_nc_oc=AdgMZ3smcXPkJIWTMPYsi-qgVdiVEWJowbnyQoHXQy9xZ4ynfkt6T5Zwjya-ozf6EmoGIxV_po6am-SZqyJSINMi&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AbGKy0damPeNnFyonOcceR6&oh=00_AYAZPQwwgqCFLPDsWw5JMfgLAocq1c2IOy3xnW-lx5m2OQ&oe=67CC1F88	PERSON_PROFILE	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,768,167	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2768215}'	No	2025-03-03 19:10	active	2791	🔥NEW POPULAR READ🔥	“I want a divorce.” I said, but there was no response. “I said I want a divorce.” I repeated louder this time, clenching my fists at my sides. Alpha Dante finally looked up from his desk, staring at me like I had come to throw another tantrum. “You are tired. Go and have a nap or something,” he said dismissively. I bit down on my lips and, in annoyance, slammed the divorce papers I had secretly gathered on his desk. “What is this?” he muttered in irritation, flipping through the papers. “These are the divorce papers. I have my signature already on them. All that’s left is your signature.” His brow furrowed, and his jaw clenched. Then suddenly, he tore the papers into shreds, causing me to gasp. “What… what do you think you are doing? I spent months gathering that… why would you…” “I will not divorce!” His voice thundered, causing me to flinch. He tossed the shredded papers across the room. “You are my wife. The Luna of the Moonshade Pack. How dare you ask for a divorce?” “What more do you want? You’ve caused me nothing but pain for the past three years,” I found myself yelling in anger. “You’ve had your revenge. My father's dead and you took over his pack. What more do you want? Why won’t you let me go? Why…” “It’s not enough!” he cut me off. “Your pain is not enough! You cannot be happy while I am unhappy! You will remain unhappy by my side forever,” he said, now standing, his voice filled with nothing but disdain. I let out a shaky breath. Who was he? This wasn’t the man I had fallen in love with. This wasn’t the man who held me close on cold nights, who whispered sweet nothings in my ear, who promised to protect me from all harm. No, this was a stranger—a monster wrapped in the same familiar body. I shook my head in disbelief, my heart pounding in my chest. How had we come to this? “I, Amaya Blackwood…” “Don’t you dare, Amaya!” he said, taking steps forward while I took more back. “…of the Moonshade pack reject you…” “Amaya!” he yelled, closing the distance as I slammed my back against a wall. His hand gripped my jaw, his red eyes glowing as he stared at me while I glared back at him. “Divorce me, Dante,” I muttered, breathing heavily, but his grip only tightened around my jaw, so tight that it felt like he could actually crush it any moment. “Please… let me go.” “Never!” he growled. “I will never let you go, Amaya. Even if you hate me.” We continued staring at each other, panting heavily, until I looked away. Only then did his grip loosen, and he took a step back. “Now return to your room, and don’t you ever think about something as absurd as divorce again, because it’s never going to happen.” I paused by the door, my grip tightening around the doorknob, but I said nothing. As I was returning to my room, I was so lost in thought that I bumped into someone by the stairs. “Oh, sorry,” I muttered, and when I looked up, I saw that the man I bumped into was Cyrus, the son of my father’s Beta, Vaughn. His father was part of the revolution that had overthrown my father. Unfortunately, before my father was caught, Vaughn was shot in the heart by my father. He did not survive. “Watch where you are going,” he sneered. I lowered my head and continued walking, but then he added, “The Alpha received a marriage proposal.” I froze, gripping the hem of my dress. He continued, “She’s an amazing woman. One of our best warriors. The people love her and approve of them as a couple. Do you know what this means?” He turned to me with a smug look, expecting a disapproving response. Instead, I smiled warmly. “Ah yes, they do seem like a perfect match. I already asked Dante for a divorce, but he refused. You are his close friend. I am sure you would be able to convince him to take the proposal seriously.” His smug look faltered, and he looked at me confused. “You are giving up so easily?” he said, and now I was the one who was confused. “What else can I do? He’s made it clear that I have no say in my own life. If this marriage proposal is what’s best for the pack, who am I to stand in the way?” He frowned, and when he didn’t say anything else, I turned away. When I got to my room, I closed the door behind me and let out a shaky breath as I recalled Cyrus’s words. The pack adored their new Alpha. After all, he had saved them from misfortune. Kara was also everything I wasn’t—strong, beloved, and loyal to the pack. She had fought alongside Dante for the freedom of the pack. It was only natural for them to be together. They were a perfect match, and I was sure the people would pressure Dante to accept. But what did that mean for me? Would I be finally free? No, that wasn’t possible. I was the last remaining royal bloodline of the Moonshade pack. The people hated me. They wanted me gone, and Dante would never let me go. Even if he moved on, he would keep me as a prisoner. I sighed and walked over to the window. My eyes widened for a brief moment when I saw Dante and Kara walking side by side. They were talking about something, and he was smiling. But then it all vanished as he shifted his gaze and his eyes met mine. A shiver ran down my spine, but I couldn’t look away. So we just stared at each other until Kara tugged at his sleeve, urging him to focus on her. He glanced back at her with the same warm smile, and they both walked away. “Should I jump?” was the first thought that came to my head as soon as they were out of sight. I could run as far as my legs could carry me. But where would I go? Who was I kidding? Dante had allies everywhere while I had no one. My parents were gone, their loyal followers were either scattered or dead. I was alone. Chapter 2 I woke up the next morning with a very high fever, but I still managed to get out of bed. Outside my bedroom window, I could hear chants from protesters who wanted me gone from the pack. This had become a routine; they did it every morning until they were chased away by the guards. I got dressed and headed downstairs to join Dante for breakfast. Although I didn’t want to, he had insisted, not giving me much of a choice. So, against my will, I had to see him every morning before he left the packhouse. Today was different, though. Kara was sitting at the breakfast table, smiling as she poured Dante a cup of coffee. “Good morning, Amaya,” she said, as if she wasn’t sitting in my house, at my table, sharing coffee with my husband while I sat at the far end, away from both of them. “Good morning,” I muttered, keeping my eyes down. Dante, on the other hand, didn’t look up. He was busy reading something on his tablet. “Amaya, you look pale,” she added just as I was about to take a bite of my sausage. “Are you not feeling well?” I looked at her, caught off guard. There was no way she would care. That was confirmed when I saw pity in her eyes, and my walls went back up. As if on cue, Dante looked up from his tablet, his gaze meeting mine, waiting for my response. “I…I’m fine,” I muttered. “If you’re fine, stop sulking,” Dante said coldly. “Dante,” Kara scolded. “Why are you being harsh? She doesn’t look well.” “She’s the daughter of a powerful Alpha. I’m sure her wolf will heal her,” he said. And he would be right, except I had lost contact with my wolf as a result of the trauma. It was like she just vanished. Perhaps that was another reason I couldn’t feel the mate bond, and that was why his words hurt less. “But…” Kara tried to insist, but he cut her off. “Fine…I will get the pack healer.” “No, it’s not necessary. It’s just a fever.” I tried taking a bite of the sausage, but the smell made me nauseous, and I put it back down. “Excuse me,” I said, standing up. “Where are you going?” Dante asked. “I’m not hungry,” I replied. Not waiting for his response, I turned and walked out of the dining room. In the corner, I could see some maids giggling as I walked by. I knew it was about me, but I could do nothing but continue walking. Later that evening, Dante informed me I would be joining him for a party. My dress had already been picked out, and all I had to do was be there, in his words. It was difficult walking in heels. I had mentioned this in the past, but I guess he had forgotten—or perhaps he only pretended to care back then. I felt dizzy due to my rising fever, yet I had to shake it off for the sake of this occasion. As soon as we entered, all eyes fell on us. My hand was wrapped around his, and I could feel my grip tightening because of how nervous I was, which was weird because I was always the confident one. When we walked in, a man approached us with a smile and extended his hand to Dante. “Alpha Dante, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said while completely ignoring my presence. “Always good to see you, Mark,” he said, returning the handshake. I stood there awkwardly as the two men continued to talk. The man didn’t even glance in my direction, making me feel like an outsider. After a while, I slowly released my grip and took a small step back, then another, until I had created some distance between us—but I could still hear their voices. “So, Alpha, why didn’t you accept the marriage proposal?” he asked, as if I wasn’t in the room with them. “I’m not sure where that rumor came from. I already have a wife,” Dante said, laughing, catching me off guard. But I quickly reminded myself it was probably just to save face. After a while, the show started, and I was back at Dante’s side. It was a live band playing one of my favorite songs. I closed my eyes as memories from years ago flooded back—when I used to perform on stages, traveling on tours. But after the incident, it felt like I lost my voice. “Luna, didn’t you use to sing?” I heard a voice from among the crowd, and my eyes snapped open. “Yes! Why don’t you sing for us?” another said. “Wait…what…I…” I tried to speak, but they cut me off. “Come on, one song! Don’t be shy. You’ve earned many awards for your singing.” It was true, but right now, I couldn’t. Before I could protest, a woman grabbed my hand forcefully and pulled me to the stage, handing me a mic. I stood in front of the stage, staring at the crowd in front of me. This was nothing compared to the hundreds of people I had sung in front of in the past, but back then, they didn’t look at me with such disdain. “Sing!” They urged, while my heart raced. In the crowd, I could see Dante staring at me expectantly. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I just couldn’t. A sudden wave of dizziness hit me, making my body sway slightly. My skin was burning up, but at the same time, I felt so cold that my fingers were trembling. Gosh, I should have stayed back at home. My head was pounding and my legs felt like they weren’t even mine anymore. “I…I…sorry. I…” I tried to say, but my vision suddenly blurred, and the next thing I knew, the room was tilting. No, I was falling. The last thing I saw was an image of Dante’s wide eyes as he rushed toward me, but everything went black before I could see if he caught me. When I opened my eyes, I was lying in my bed. “Don’t move,” a voice said sternly. It wasn’t Dante’s—it was the pack’s healer. I blinked, watching him mix something in a small bowl. “You collapsed at the party,” he explained, not looking at me. “I can’t believe the Alpha called me for something so trivial. There are people in this pack who genuinely need my help, not…” his words trailed off. I stared at the window. My throat was dry, and my head was aching like crazy. I wanted to close my eyes, but the healer continued muttering. “Honestly, wasting my time on someone who’s probably just fine. It’s not like I have better things to do,” he said, as if I wasn’t lying right next to him. The room fell silent. After a few minutes, the door opened, and Dante stepped in. “What happened?” he asked the healer. “Nothing serious,” the healer said, waving his hand dismissively. “She’s been indoors too much. Likely a mix of stress and low energy. She’ll be fine after some rest and sunlight.” Dante crossed his arms. “She fainted in the middle of a party. That’s not nothing.” But the healer only sighed in frustration. “Alpha, I’ve told you what I think. If you don’t trust my judgment, perhaps you’d like to consult someone else. As I said, she just needs rest.” Dante’s jaw clenched as he thought for a moment. “Leave,” he ordered. The healer wasted no time gathering his things before leaving the room. When the door shut, the room fell silent again. I didn’t dare look at Dante—I was still staring at the ceiling—but I could feel his presence close. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” he finally asked. I closed my eyes as the headache worsened. “I’m fine,” I whispered. There was another wave of silence between us until I heard his footsteps retreating, followed by the door closing. Only then did I open my eyes. I managed to sit up and opened my drawer, picking up a bag containing pills. I grabbed the bottled water I always had next to my bed and gulped down the medicine. Without taking this, I wouldn’t be able to sleep. Chapter 3 The next days that followed, I started noticing Dante more often in the house than before. Although we never truly had a proper conversation, he wasn’t yelling like he used to. “My husband has been really cold and distant lately.” I overheard a conversation between two maids while I was walking down the hallway. They were whispering, but I could hear them clearly. “Do you have a child yet?” the older maid asked while the younger one shook her head. “I wanted to wait, but now… I don’t know. Maybe it was a mistake. He’s barely home, and when he is, it feels like we’re strangers.” “Ah, that’s just what happens with newlyweds. Men get restless, but trust me, once you give him a child, everything will change. He’ll return to his loving self. That’s how it’s always been.” I froze upon hearing those words. A child? Was that the answer? But Dante had never asked for one, which is why I never even considered it. But now… maybe… just maybe. That night, I found myself standing in front of Dante’s office, debating whether to knock or not. Just then, the door opened, and he stepped out. He looked surprised when he saw me there. His gaze shifted from my head to my toes. I was wearing a slightly transparent nightgown, but at the last minute, I had thrown a robe over it. “Dante,” I whispered. “Are you busy?” We had done this many times in the past. Whenever he wanted it, he would come to my room. But for the past year, he had stopped coming. I assumed he had grown tired of me. So, I never made a move—until now. “If you are not busy, I was thinking…” I tugged on his shirt, silently praying he wouldn’t reject me. To my surprise, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me inside, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click. My heart pounded in my chest. I reached for the tie of my robe, but before I could even pull it off, his lips crashed onto mine. He gripped me firmly, holding me in place as his mouth moved against mine. It felt like he was desperate. But even then… his kiss felt cold. Before I could even think, his hands were already at the tie of my robe, and it pulled open. It fell from my shoulders, and I stood there in just my nightgown and nothing underneath. He didn’t waste time, grabbing the hem of my nightgown and pulling it over my head. Now I was standing before him, nervously fidgeting with my fingers. His eyes darkened for a brief second before his expression went blank again. “Lie down,” he commanded. Without a second thought, I moved toward the bed, doing exactly what he told me to. The next morning, when I woke up, I was sore all over. Dante wasn’t in the room. He had left that same night as soon as he was done. Gosh, I regretted it instantly. Last night, although filled with pleasure, was emotionless. He didn’t utter a single word or make a single sound. Even when he released inside of me. Nothing. It felt like a machine doing its job, even worse than before. It took me a while to pick myself up and return to my room. And after that day, I saw less and less of Dante. He was always busy with work and even missed our usual morning breakfasts together. Two months passed in the blink of an eye, and nothing really changed. “I want to go to the beach,” I suddenly brought it up during breakfast. “I will arrange for us to go this weekend,” he said, looking at his phone. “No… just me. I want to go alone,” I said, and his eyes instantly snapped up to meet mine. “You want to go alone?” he repeated. “Why? Who do you want to meet?” “Why do you assume I want to meet someone?” I asked, but I was met with a cold glare, causing me to swallow nothing. “I heard your friend is in town.” He was talking about Ryder, my childhood best friend who had confessed his love to me in the past, but I had turned him down to be with Dante. Although I was aware he was in town, he still wasn’t the reason I was going to the beach. “I just want some time alone. I have been locked inside for too long. Didn’t the healer say that I needed more sunlight and fresh air?” I reminded him. He glared at me, then nodded. “Fine, I will make arrangements for a guard to accompany you.” Even though I wanted to argue, I knew it was pointless, so I nodded. That weekend, I went to the beach alone. Well, not alone. The guard was following me but from a distance. I inhaled the salty air and watched the crashing waves. I played in the sand and picked shells, trying to remind myself of the good old days. Sitting on the floor, I thought about Dante again. I missed him—or at least the version of him that I had married. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t notice the guard moving closer. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my back as a knife was plunged deep into my skin. I gasped, and before I could scream, he yanked the knife out, whispering, “The Blackwood family deserves to die.” A shiver ran down my spine, but before I could react, he raised the knife again, preparing to strike. “Hey!” A fisherman spotted us and shouted, rushing towards us and raising alarm. The guard, realizing he had been caught, ran away while I collapsed on the floor, struggling to breathe. “Stay with me, miss,” the fisherman panicked, reaching out for his phone. Ah! He didn’t recognize me. Thank God. If he did, he would have also left me to die. But even that didn’t stop me from losing more blood until I lost consciousness. Chapter 4 Dante’s POV I was at a pack meeting when I got the call that Amaya had been stabbed—by not just anyone, but one of my own men. “What?” I barked into the phone, startling the Alphas around me. My heart pounded violently in my chest, and for the first time in years, true fear gripped me. I left immediately, shifting into my wolf and racing toward the hospital. By the time I arrived, I was breathing heavily, and my hands were shaking. The doctor was waiting for me. “The wound was deep,” he started. “She lost a lot of blood. It will take at least a month for her to fully recover.” I frowned. “A month?” That didn’t make sense. With her wolf, she should be healed in a week at most. “There’s… something else.” The doctor hesitated. “Spit it out,” I growled. “Your wife was weeks pregnant, Alpha… but she lost the child due to the trauma.” Everything stopped. A ringing in my ear drowned out all other sound, and my eyes turned red. The doctor’s mouth was still moving, but I couldn’t hear him. Pregnant? Amaya was pregnant? My body moved before I could think, and I grabbed the doctor by the collar, slamming him against the wall. “You’re lying,” I snarled, my claws digging into his chest while my wolf howled in agony, wanting to break free. “She wasn’t pregnant! She would have told me!” “It’s still in the early stages… she must not have—” “She did this on purpose, didn’t she?” I cut him off. “She didn’t tell me because she planned to leave! She was going to run off with Ryder, wasn’t she?” I couldn’t think straight. This was Amaya’s fault. She had been distant, she wanted to go to the beach alone. She had let her guard down… I shoved the doctor away and turned, my fists clenched so tightly that my nails dug into my skin. When she woke up, I confronted her about the news, but she just stared at me, emotionless like she usually did. Even now, she felt no remorse. She didn’t shed a single tear, and that annoyed me. I gritted my teeth and stormed out of the room. The guard who had stabbed her was still on the run, so after she was discharged, I had her quarantined in her room. She wasn’t allowed to step out for anything, but just in case, I stationed two guards outside and monitored the maids going in and out of her room. All her meals and drinks had to go through me before they reached her. I wasn’t taking any chances. If she wanted to act emotionless, fine. But I wasn’t going to let her make another mistake—wasn’t going to let her run away or get the freedom she wanted because of her reckless decisions. For days, she barely spoke. She ate without complaint, bathed, and slept as if nothing had happened. Her indifference made me angry. Did she not care that she had lost our child? As for the guard who had stabbed her, I personally hunted him down. Kneeling before me, covered in dirt and blood, he trembled as he dared to meet my gaze. His lips quivered as he spoke. “I was doing you a favor, Alpha,” he choked out. “The Blackwood… they all deserve to die. She’s a—” I snapped his neck before he could finish. Though I felt I should have tortured him, should have made him suffer, I couldn’t waste another second on a traitor who thought he had the right to decide my fate. Wiping the blood off my hands, I turned to my men. “Burn his body. Let it be a warning to anyone else who dares to defy me.” They bowed their heads in obedience, dragging the corpse away. That night, I headed straight to her room unannounced to deliver the news. She was sitting by the window, staring at the moon, and didn’t turn around when I entered. “He’s dead,” I said. She didn’t respond. I clenched my fists, stepping closer. “I hunted him down myself. Snapped his neck like the traitor he was.” Still nothing. My jaw tightened. “Is that all you’re going to do? Just sit there and stare at moon like nothing happened?” Finally, she turned her head slightly. I flinched when I saw the emptiness in her eyes—she looked like a living corpse. “What do you want me to say, Alpha?” “You lost our child,” I growled, taking another step forward. “And you sit here as if you feel nothing.” Her lips pressed into a thin line. “What do you want me to do? Cry? Scream? You already decided this was my fault.” I scoffed. “Isn’t it?” She lowered her head. “Of course. Everything is always my fault.” My blood boiled, and I grabbed her by the arm, yanking her to her feet. “Don’t play games with me.” “Then let go.” I gritted my teeth, staring down at her, but then my eyes widened when my gaze reached her fingers—I saw her ring was missing. “Your ring… You took it off.” She looked at her hand, and when she saw it wasn’t there, she muttered, “Oh.” Oh. Just an oh. Even though I hated her, I never took off my ring. It was the only reminder of what we once shared. “That’s it?” I snarled. “You take off our bond like it meant nothing, and all you can say is ‘oh’? If you hated me this much, you should have just left.” Her lips curved into a small, bitter smile. “Didn’t I try?” “You—” “But you wouldn’t let me, so why are you surprised? You chained me to you. Did you really think a ring would change that?” “That’s enough,” I said, shutting my eyes and shoving her back onto the bed. I took a step back, running a hand through my hair. “Put the ring back on.” “No.” “That wasn’t a request.” “I can’t, because I didn’t take it off. It must have fallen off somewhere at the beach,” she said, turning back to face the window. “I will go search for it,” I said, stepping back and running my hand through my hair. She didn’t answer. “Go to bed.” I clenched my jaw, and without another word, I left, slamming the door behind me. Chapter 5 Dante POV Five Years Ago – Flashback “Did you sleep well?” I asked, running my fingers through Amaya’s silky hair as her head rested on my lap. “No,” she pouted, turning her face up to look at me. I smirked, brushing a loose strand behind her ear. “And why is that, princess?” She huffed dramatically. “Because you weren’t there.” It had only been a short mission—three days at the border—but she acted as if I had been gone for months. I chuckled, trailing my fingers down her jaw. “I told you I’d come back.” “You’re always leaving,” she muttered, crossing her arms. “And one day, you won’t.” My smirk faltered. Amaya was the Alpha’s only daughter, raised in the safety of the packhouse, protected like an egg. She had never known real war, real danger. And yet, she feared losing me more than anything. I gently tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze. “I will always come back to you.” She blinked, her emerald eyes searching mine for a moment before she whispered, “Promise?” I leaned down, brushing my lips against her forehead. “I swear it.” A small smile tugged at her lips, but I could still see the hesitation in her eyes. She didn’t like my life as a soldier, didn’t like the bloodshed or the risks. But she loved me enough to endure it. “Come with me next time,” she said, catching me off guard. I raised a brow. “What?” “On your next mission,” she said, propping herself up on her elbows. “I want to see what it’s like.” I laughed, shaking my head. “Absolutely not.” She scowled. “Why not?” “Because you’re the Alpha’s daughter,” I reminded her. “And your father would have my head if I let you anywhere near danger.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not a child, Dante.” “No, but you’re my princess,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to her palm. “And I won’t let anything happen to you.” She sighed in frustration but didn’t argue further. Instead, she curled up against me, resting her head on my chest. “Then don’t take so long next time,” she whispered, and I wrapped my arms around her, inhaling the familiar scent of lavender and honey. End of Flashback Ding! Ding! My phone vibrated, startling me out of my sleep. My neck was sore as I had dozed off at my desk. Glancing at my phone, I saw a message from Amaya. I frowned. “I’m sorry.” I scoffed. Sorry? She was apologizing? She should have done that sooner and made things easier for both of us, but she just had to be so stubborn. I picked up my pen to continue signing some documents. But then 10 minutes passed and I found myself just flipping the pages. “She never apologizes,” Mako, my wolf, said, and my hand froze. It was true. Amaya had never been one to admit when she was wrong, even in the past. She had always been proud, but more than that, she had always been distant, keeping her emotions hidden. Something wasn’t right. I immediately grabbed my phone to call her, but the line went straight to voicemail. I got up from my desk and sped past the hallway. There was no way she would have run away. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t… she couldn’t. When I got to her room, I saw two guards standing outside. “Has she left her room?” was the first thing I asked. “No, Alpha. In fact, she has been asleep for a while now. Told us not to disturb her,” one of them replied, and I sighed in relief. Well, that was good. At least she was actually apologizing, but why did I still feel uneasy? She hadn’t left. She was still here. But why wasn’t she answering me? I opened the door, and the moment I stepped inside, I saw her lying in her bed. I breathed another sigh of relief. “Something feels off,” Mako said. I walked closer to her and bent down beside her bed. When I touched her, her skin was cold, causing me to catch my breath. “Amaya,” I whispered, shaking her, but there was no response. “Amaya!” I shouted, shaking her harder, but still, no response. She wasn’t waking up. “No,” I whispered, backing away as my gaze shifted around the room, trying to pinpoint why—until it landed on her nightstand. My blood ran cold when I saw them. Scattered pills. Not one. Not two. Dozens. And they were all empty. My body froze as everything came crashing down. No… I stumbled back and rushed to her, shaking her violently this time. “Amaya! Wake up!” My hands were shaking as I checked the pulse in her wrist. I felt a pulse… but it was weak. Too weak. I turned to the guards at the door. “Get the healer! Get the doctor, NOW!” I watched the hours tick by as the healer worked on Amaya’s unconscious form. I stood by her bedside, clenching my fists while my wolf paced recklessly in my mind. “She’s stable,” the healer finally said, wiping sweat from his brow. “But her body is weak. It will take time before she wakes up, so she must be monitored closely.” I barely heard the last part before he bowed and left, leaving just the two of us alone. Right now, she looked so pale… like a ghost. I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed it before. I grabbed her wrist, feeling her faint pulse. “Look what you’ve done,” I muttered. How dare you try to leave me? “Isn’t this what you wanted?” Mako taunted. “Our mate almost died. Aren’t you supposed to be happy? You wanted this, didn’t you?” No. I shook my head. My breathing was becoming heavier, so I had to step back, but I almost stumbled. “I didn’t want her dead. I just… I just wanted her to suffer by my side.” She can’t leave me. Never. I won’t let that happen.	LEARN_MORE	https://getokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=18708&u	Galaxy in the Story	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	2,500	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	getokn.com	IMAGE		https://getokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=18708&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/t39.35426-6/480650568_650286140831353_5265324428305249010_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Ui9R_jvkebUQ7kNvgFTT0Nq&_nc_oc=AdhJJ06R6H-_wBZ2A2kU1-poiAbABCvWRt34CcX6xXL5qcn2rWEh6afW8x9TVAtCnHGrS4WTuu6Ar_2nVZcrolgf&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A9iapwPRn7WgUHe-EO9Q2lS&oh=00_AYAFjtn8Jyz_RaxVWbFqAo8gQuGZUvvmZmVUPs9sSyAqQA&oe=67CC24BB	PERSON_PROFILE	Galaxy in the Story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,767,930	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2767892}'	Yes	2025-03-03 19:09	active	2791	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	"Can you share Nash’s contact info with me?" The girl who was well-known around campus lightly poked my arm. Near the classroom window, a figure came into view. It was 17-year-old Nash Xander. I suddenly snapped back to my senses, clutching my chest and gasping for breath. "What's the matter with you?" The person who poked me was my desk mate, Yvonne Quinn, who had just transferred here a week ago and was crowned as the most beautiful girl on campus. In my previous life, she had been just as carefree and self-assured, declaring, "Give me his contact info, and I'll have him in a week." Back then, I had dismissed it as mere boasting. But that very evening, I witnessed her seated on the table, sharing a kiss with Nash. The plaster statue that should have been on the table tumbled to the ground, breaking into pieces. I was reborn! I found myself transported back to a time when tragedies hadn’t unfolded yet. I clenched my hands, battling to suppress the quiver in my voice. "Sure, I'll send you on WhatsApp." In my previous life, I hadn't given her Nash’s contact info, and she had held a grudge against me for quite a while. After a straightforward operation on my phone, I set it aside. "Alright, if there’s nothing else, I should get back to my studies." Yvonne added Nash on WhatsApp while inquiring, "Studying again? Aren't you curious why I said I wanted to win him over? Aren't you secretly infatuated with him?" My heart constricted. At the age of seventeen, I had made two grave mistakes. First, I harbored a secret affection for Nash but lacked the courage to confess it. Second, I reported his relationship with Yvonne, which resulted in him being sent abroad. Thus, he held a deep-seated grudge against me, a hatred that endured for eight long years. He was even willing to destroy me, all to exact revenge for what had transpired back then. Recalling that humiliating night, a wave of nausea washed over me. "No, you've got it all wrong. I've never secretly crushed on him," I asserted, raising my head and locking eyes with Yvonne, my expression deadly serious. My earnest response caught Yvonne off guard, and she slyly curled her lips. "Well, now that you've said that, I can breathe easy. I wasn't sure how to tell you about me and Nash, afraid it might upset you." In my previous life, Yvonne had displayed the same audacious confidence. Yvonne was stunning, possessing a well-proportioned, tall frame, flawless fair skin, and striking facial features that radiated even without makeup. Among our rather ordinary-looking group of students, she was the most dazzling rose. Yvonne had earned the moniker of a "campus heartbreaker" – she had dated practically every good-looking guy in the school. Her personality matched her appearance, passionate and outgoing. While others anxiously studied for exams, she was drinking, partying, and skipping classes. She didn't fit the mold of a conventional "good girl." However, for those who didn’t dare to defy conventions, she exuded a deadly allure. Nash was one of those who couldn't resist her charm. I recalled the moments just before my death in my previous life. I gripped the cuff of Nash’s white shirt, telling him, "Nash, you shouldn't treat me like this, even if you despise me. Seeking revenge in this manner isn't right." As his cuff slipped from my grasp, my arm bore permanent scars from smoke burns and a curling iron. Nash peered down at me with a patronizing smirk. "So, what's your suggestion then? If it weren't for you, Yvonne wouldn't have married someone else, and she wouldn't have met her end in that underground clinic." "You played a part in her demise, and yet, you have the nerve to ask for my forgiveness?" "Wendy Carter, you're incredibly naive." Yes, in my previous life, I had confided in Mr. and Mrs. Xander about Nashi's relationship with Yvonne. It led to Nash being forced to go abroad, while Yvonne, entangled in a love affair, failed SAT. She graduated shortly after and became involved with a punk. She became conceived out of wedlock, and her boyfriend abandoned her, with her parents also neglecting her. In desperation, Yvonne sought a surgery at an underground clinic but didn't survive the procedure. Nash firmly believed that if I hadn't disclosed their relationship to his parents, he wouldn't have left the country, and Yvonne wouldn't have met her tragic end. I was the root cause of it all. I smiled warmly and offered my best wishes, saying, "That's wonderful! I wish you both a lifetime of happiness and love." Yvonne glanced at me with a hint of puzzlement but remained silent. As time passed, Nash and Yvonne carried on their secret romance. They were just like any other couple, skipping classes to catch movies, adorning their ears with flashy jewelry, sharing kisses on the Ferris wheel, and racing through the streets on motorcycles. Yvonne was introducing Nash to all the experiences he had missed in his previous life. Their carefree existence didn't quite fit the mold of typical students. Perhaps they had forgotten that they were still in school. I observed it all from a distance, choosing not to be silly enough to report them to Mr. and Mrs. Xander. I had a busy schedule preparing for SAT. In my previous life, under Nash’s influence, I had enrolled in the same high school as him and pursued an art major. I had even resolved to specialize in the same field as Nash, willingly becoming his shadow. However, things were different now. I had decided to switch from being an art student to a regular one. I was preparing to take SAT and carve out my own path. Chapter 0002 This path was undeniably challenging, but regardless of how tough it might get, I was determined to give it a shot. I had faith in myself! I overheard Yvonne boasting to someone, "Oh, come on, Nash is just a guy others hype up. In reality, he doesn't know anything; he's just a bit of an art geek. "On that note, if it weren't for the fact that he's participated in so many competitions, his reputation, and the fact that he's reasonably good-looking, who would be willing to be with him?" A fellow classmate chimed in, "Cut it out, Yvonne. If you're going to brag, at least be realistic. He's a top student. Do you really think he'd be interested in you? You're probably just a fun distraction for him because you have the reputation of being a campus hottie." Yvonne snorted, "You guys are just jealous. Who cares if he's a top student? I can win him over anytime. "To prove whether he's genuinely interested in me or not, that's simple. Just wait and see." The classmate added, "I heard he's about to participate in an international art competition. If you're as talented as you claim, why don't you try to stop him from going?" I sat right beside her, fully aware of how crucial this competition was for Nash and how much effort he had invested in it. As expected, even without my interference, the pivotal moments from my previous life were unfolding once again. In my previous life, I knew that Yvonne was dating Nash casually. I tried dropping hints to Nash a few times, but he always believed I was trying to stir trouble and ruin their relationship. So, after much hesitation, I chose to inform his parents. Due to their intervention, things escalated significantly. Nash and Yvonne were compelled to break up. Nash's mother kept a watchful eye on him during the competition, but due to his less-than-optimal condition, he missed out on the first-place prize. Not long after, his parents sent him overseas. He harbored a grudge against me for many years, a grudge so deep that he was willing to destroy me in that manner. As I regained my composure, Yvonne was already standing directly in front of me. She casually rested her arm on my shoulder and asked, "Wendy, you're not going to rat us out, are you?" I lowered my head, opened my book, and made a solemn promise, "Don't worry, I didn't catch a word of it." In my previous life, Nash himself imparted a lesson to me: to let go of playing the hero and to respect the destinies of others. The first time I encountered Nash after my rebirth was right at my doorstep. It marked our initial meeting since my reincarnation. Reflecting on his actions towards me in my prior life, my palms couldn't help but break out in a cold sweat. I suppressed my revulsion and glanced down. Empty cans were scattered on the ground, and he still held an unfinished beer can in his hand. When he noticed me, he swiftly rose from the ground, his eyes bloodshot, and he clutched my shoulder. "Wendy, aren't you in the same class as Yvonne? Could you do me a favor and get in touch with her? She wants to break up with me. "I can't bear to let her go. She doesn't like me drawing, and I can give up drawing. Please convey to her that I'll stop drawing. Can you do that for me? "I'm really out of options. I love her, and I can't bear to lose her. I'm willing to sacrifice anything for her." I silently gazed at the disheveled young man before me, reeking of wine. He had lost the radiance he once had. He appeared different from the Nash I remembered. His hands had always been well-proportioned and well-kept; he cherished them dearly. He once said he was grateful to the heavens for blessing him with hands capable of crafting captivating works of art. He took great pleasure in the process of turning landscapes and people into art with his adept touch. However, now his hands, once meticulously maintained, were smeared with dirt, and yet, he remained oblivious to it all. In his eyes, no one could hold a candle to Yvonne anymore. I couldn't help but shake my head. Indeed, the unattainable Nash that I used to admire could only exist in memories; even if the actual Nash himself were to appear now, it wouldn’t work. Chapter 0003 "Wendy, why aren't you speaking? Are you willing to help me or not?" Seeing Nash's hopeful expression, I pulled out my phone and dialed Yvonne's number. Willing? Of course, why wouldn't I be? How else would I get to witness this drama unfold? "Yvonne, Nash has passed out drunk at my doorstep, shouting your name. Can you come over for a moment?" Nash stared anxiously at the phone, barely taking a breath. Yvonne chuckled and asked me, "What does it have to do with me if he's passed out at your doorstep? You must have called the wrong person." Nash's face grew even paler by the moment. These two couldn't break up, so I immediately stepped in. "Yvonne, did you two have an argument? Couples don't break up after just one fight. Why not hear Nash out or let him apologize to you? Yvonne scoffed, "Apologize? There's no need for an apology. If you want me to stay with him, ask him if he's truly willing to do anything for me." I switched on the speakerphone, and as soon as Nash heard Yvonne say that, he immediately nodded in a panic. "Yes, Yvonne, I'm willing to do anything for you. I'm sorry, it's my fault for making you upset." Yvonne appeared satisfied, "Good then. In that case, don't go to the competition." After that, she abruptly hung up the phone. Nash stared at my phone in bewilderment. I observed Nash, curious to see how he would choose in this life without my intervention. Nash stood there, rigid and with his head bowed. I understood that matters of love and dreams could be quite complex. After a while, he lifted his head with a bitter smile and asked, "Wendy, does giving up the competition prove how important she is to me?" He posed the question to me, but I sensed he already knew the answer in his heart. I didn't have much to add, considering my previous life's experiences. I watched as his despondent figure slowly receded from view, step by step. Indeed, Nash didn't participate in the competition due to an injury on his hand. Something must have happened after leaving my place, as a substantial abrasion had appeared on the back of his hand. Even the slightest movement caused it to bleed. I couldn't help but admire the power of love, driving him to self-sacrifice to honor his promise to his girlfriend. Their reconciliation was nothing short of a miracle. They walked home hand in hand, enjoying sweet and happy moments every day. Nash no longer displayed the despair of that night; instead, his eyes radiated tenderness and affection for the girl at his side. As they strolled past the alley they used to take on their way home, Yvonne exhaled the smoke slowly into Nash's face. He lovingly caressed her hair, then leaned in to kiss her deeply. He placed his arm around her waist and walked into a nearby internet cafe. Once inside, a group of local young people greeted him, and he engaged in a lively conversation. I shook my head, turned away, and became a complete bystander. It wasn't until Nash's mother found us in our classroom that everything changed. Mrs. Xander was a well-known fashion designer, and she had always been kind and gentle. In my memory, she never had any conflicts with anyone, giving the impression of a very contented life. Mr. Xander’s company had also been quite successful, which was why in my previous life, when Nash took over the company, he had the power to place me in the bed of a business partner. Nash excelled in his academic subjects, and he had remarkable talent in art as well. He was what parents often referred to as the "golden child" who excelled in everything. His parents never pressured him to focus solely on academics; they fully supported his pursuit of interests and hobbies. Nash certainly lived up to their expectations, winning numerous awards over the years. Upon high school graduation, he received acceptance letters from prestigious foreign universities. This competition was his gateway to a prestigious art school. Nash could have enjoyed a splendid life, basking in the limelight and receiving applause and flowers from everyone. However, he willingly chose to forgo all that glory and opted to rot in the gutter with Yvonne. Chapter 0004 Mrs. Xander walked in followed by our homeroom teacher, her face stern and icy. "Who is Yvonne?" she demanded, her sharp gaze scanning the room. None of the students dared to make a sound. Yvonne, seated next to me, furrowed her brow and swiftly tapped a few times on her phone, then stood up calmly. "That would be me. How may I help you?" Mrs. Xander scrutinized Yvonne from head to toe with her slender brows furrowed. Yvonne's face gradually turned red, and she appeared somewhat flustered. "It's you, the one who's dating my son every day, leading him into mischief?" Yvonne instinctively denied it, but before she could say more, Mrs. Xander slapped her across the face. "Your tricks won't work with me. Do you think I don't know what you're up to? You're so young, yet so cunning!" Yvonne, with a red mark from Mrs. Xander's five fingers on her beautiful face, stared in disbelief at Mrs. Xander and shouted loudly, "You old witch, who gave you the right to hit me?" Mrs. Xander coldly chuckled, "I have every right, especially when you, at such a young age, deliberately seduced my son. He used to be such a well-behaved child, but now, because of you, he's drinking, getting into fights, and defying his parents. If you want to ruin yourself, go ahead, but why drag my son down with you?" Yvonne was a popular figure at school, and she couldn't tolerate being accused of seducing someone. "Well-behaved? Ha, old witch, Nash is a human being, an independent thinker. How dare you use 'well-behaved' to describe him as if he were a dog." Yvonne argued vehemently. Mrs. Xander was so furious that her chest heaved up and down. She grabbed Yvonne's hair and began pulling. "My son, my rules. It's my choice how I want to raise him. It's none of your business." Nash finally arrived, pushing Mrs. Xander aside and protecting Yvonne. Our homeroom teacher managed to restrain Mrs. Xander, who was now panting heavily. "Mom, what are you doing? It's my choice to be with Yvonne so hit me instead. "Withdrawing from the competition was my own decision; it has nothing to do with Yvonne." Mrs. Xander never expected her obedient and sensible son to openly defy her for a girl who clearly had ulterior motives. She trembled with anger, swayed a bit, and our homeroom teacher hurriedly supported her. "Mom..." Nash hadn't expected his mother to be so upset. Seeing Mrs. Xander's unsteady steps, he worriedly called out to her. "Don't call me 'Mom.' I don't have such a disobedient and unfilial son like you." Mrs. Xander raised her hand and slapped Nash. She pointed at me, standing among the crowd. "You want to date? Your dad and I never stopped you, but at least find a decent girl like Wendy. Wake up and see what kind of person she is. Are you trying to drive me and your dad to an early grave?" I stood there, feeling unexpectedly singled out. This hadn't happened in my previous life. Mrs. Xander had never come to the school, and even when she later found out about Nash and Yvonne's early romance, they had chosen to send Nash abroad discreetly, cutting off their contact. Something must have happened this time to make Mrs. Xander react so irrationally and embarrass both of them publicly. Since Mrs. Xander mentioned my name, everyone's eyes turned to me. Yvonne, seemingly realizing something, stared at me with sudden anger. "Wendy, it's you! You're the one who told on us!" "You promised me you wouldn't snitch on us. Why would you do this? What do you gain from it?" Nash, too, looked at me with a mixture of caution and annoyance. I shrugged. "This has nothing to do with me. I told you I wouldn't get involved in your affairs, and I've kept my word. If you want to argue, can you at least do it outside? It's affecting everyone's studying here. Also, Mrs. Xander, please clarify that I didn't inform on you." However, Yvonne was convinced that I was the informer. "Enough of this arguing. I'm the one who told Mrs. Xander. Calm down, and if you have any issues, discuss them in my office. Don't disrupt the other students here," our homeroom teacher said, rubbing her temples. We followed our homeroom teacher to her office. It was class time, so there was no one else inside. Mrs. Xander, still furious, was seated by our homeroom teacher. "If our homeroom teacher hadn't told me, how long were you planning to hide this from me? All the things you've done behind my back, how do you plan to explain them to me and your dad?" Mrs. Xander glared at Nash. Chapter 0005 "Alright, talk to your child calmly," our homeroom teacher said, pouring a cup of tea for Mrs. Xander and patting her hand. Our homeroom teacher and Mrs. Xander were old classmates and had a very close relationship. With her soothing words, Mrs. Xander managed to restrain her anger. Both Mrs. Xander and our homeroom teacher confirmed that the information didn't come from me, and I finally cleared my name. "Now that it's not my problem, I'll head back to the classroom. There are so many practice papers I haven't finished." The college entrance exam was approaching, and I had to make the most of my time. However, I had underestimated the gossip mills in our school. This incident became widely known. While teenage romances were not uncommon, and some even involved parents and the school, this one attracted unparalleled attention. I heard that Mrs. Xander gave them two choices that day. Either Nash would go abroad, or Yvonne would transfer to another school. Yvonne thought she could easily get into an art school with her looks and figure, which was why she dared to be so reckless in her relationship with Nash. She certainly wouldn't transfer schools for Nash; she hadn't fallen in love with him that deeply yet. Tears welled up in Yvonne's eyes as she hid behind Nash, feeling wronged. "Don't worry, Yvonne, I'll protect you." Nash probably felt responsible for Yvonne's humiliation by his mother. When Nash was taken home by Mrs. Xander, another intense argument erupted. To express his determination to be with Yvonne, Nash even smashed his beloved easel and went on a hunger strike in protest. I saw Nash a week later. It was the first sunny day in two months. I happened to catch a glimpse of him sitting by the window, painting. Since being with Yvonne, he had rarely touched a paintbrush. He would discard a painting even before it took shape. In the middle of the night, the piercing sound of an ambulance tore through the silence. My parents heard it and rushed next door to help. I saw Mr. Xander carrying Nash on his back, and Mrs. Xander was sobbing behind them. Nash's right hand hung in front of Mr. Xander, and blood was dripping down one drop at a time. "Quick, get him into the ambulance, Mr. Xander, I'll give you a hand." My dad rushed up, supporting the unconscious Nash on Mr. Xander's back, and they hurried towards the ambulance. Nash, pale as a ghost, lay on his father's shoulder, a victorious smile in his eyes. As he passed by me, he chuckled and said something. "In this lifetime, I'll live for Yvonne. Wendy, don't obstruct me, or you know what'll happen." In that moment, it felt like a bucket of icy water had been poured over me, and I stood frozen in place, feeling a chilling dread. Nash's tendons in his hand were severed, and while the discovery was made quickly and his life was not in danger, his hand was rendered useless. Mr. and Mrs. Xander had no choice but to agree to let the two of them be together. Nash could never pick up a paintbrush again, but he didn't mind it one bit. When someone asked, he would proudly display the long scar on his wrist, boasting, "This is proof of my love for Yvonne, this is my youth!" But only I knew that those hands of his could have painted unique works of art. He could have been in the halls filled with an artistic atmosphere, enjoying the admiring glances of everyone. After Mrs. Xander's visit to the school, Yvonne moved to the seat farthest away from me. The two of them were now openly together. I heard there were a few breakups in between, but each time, Nash went and coaxed her back. As for Yvonne, she simply assumed herself to be part of the Xander family. After witnessing Mrs. Xander's wealth and extravagance, and dissatisfied with her own modest circumstances, Yvonne often asked Nash for expensive gifts that students couldn't afford. However, Nash was determined to be with her. Disappointed, Mr. and Mrs. Xander cut off Nash's allowance. Nash had already moved out of his home, and he rented a house with Yvonne off-campus. Thanks to Nash participating in various competitions over the years, he had won numerous prizes and managed to save a substantial amount from his previous allowances. For a while, they were living quite comfortably. Chapter 0006 I paid no attention to all of this and dedicated all my time to my studies. Whenever I encountered something I didn't understand, I would seek guidance from my teachers. My parents even hired a private tutor for me. After school each day, I focused on strengthening my weaker subjects. Following the second mock exam, my grades improved significantly, and I secured a place in the top ten students in the entire grade. My homeroom teacher called me into her office, his face filled with pride but tinged with a hint of regret as he patted my shoulder. "Your friendship with Nash has always been excellent. It's a shame." Another teacher chimed in, "He's such a talented student! Yet, that Yvonne doesn't seem to study at all, and she's influencing good students." I quietly left the office, passing by the hallway where I spotted Nash and Yvonne kissing. Nash, seemingly accustomed to Yvonne's playful nature. He wasn't wearing his usual white shirt but had donned a T-shirt with bold patterns, much like Yvonne's. When Yvonne noticed me, she nudged Nash and playfully raised her chin toward me. "Hey, it's your little crush. No greeting? She's in the top ten now, you know." Nash glanced at me, his gaze strangely distant, as if we had never met before. His thin lips formed two words. "Not interested." Yvonne burst into laughter. Ever since Mr. and Mrs. Xander stopped caring about Nash, he had become unrestrained. Just a few days ago, he even got into a fight with a troublemaker from our school. Coincidentally, the troublemaker happened to be Yvonne's ex-boyfriend, and he couldn't resist provoking them when he saw them together. Yvonne couldn't stand it and egged Nash on to fight the guy. Nash didn't hesitate, delivering a single punch that broke the guy's nose. Mrs. Xander came to our school for the second time. The wealthy lady, accustomed to a life of luxury, was now humbly apologizing to the teachers and parents. Nash stood silently by her side, tightly holding Yvonne's hand without uttering a word. Mrs. Xander was seething with anger, rendering her speechless. Our homeroom teacher, unable to bear it any longer, stood up and scolded Nash. "Nash, look at yourself now. You used to be such an outstanding student, how did you become so unreasonable? While your family is well-off, your parents can't protect you forever. Even if you want to date, can't you find a sensible girl? You've known Wendy since childhood, why don't you choose her instead of someone like..." The rest of her words were unkind, and as she glanced at Yvonne, who was nonchalantly chewing gum next to Nash, she frowned and swallowed the remaining words. She couldn't help but add, "Nash, this shows a lack of responsibility towards yourself!" Nash lifted his head, sarcastically remarking, "How could Wendy ever compare to Yvonne?" Our homeroom teacher slammed her hand onto the desk, exclaiming, "Wendy is currently ranked third in the class and is among the top ten students in the grade. How can you claim that she can't be compared to Yvonne?" Nash, with a blank expression, retorted, "She's just a bookworm who only knows how to study. Boring." "Yeah, teacher!" Yvonne chimed in with a laugh, hooking her arm around Nash's. "If we don't go a little crazy in our youth, what's the point?" Nash frowned irritably. "And please, can you all stop comparing me to Wendy? We don't have anything to do with each other..." He stopped mid-sentence, noticing me entering with my homework. In fact, I had been there for a while and overheard their conversation. I entered just because it was time for the next class. Silently, I placed my homework on the teacher's desk and said, "Teacher, I'm going back to class."	LEARN_MORE	https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1	Happyday	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	1,665	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	www.qknymufd.com	VIDEO		https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=17985&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/t39.35426-6/475651411_576737338678546_8884347335546157246_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=NsprniAhPasQ7kNvgEjUjFy&_nc_oc=AdgbgJK9P0mvXHMv_iU5gntCtMITxSfk0zQ7LanrScwkqtls2jATLNuFs_Gon84YEog0kDRzyZQMVa4t8enQuyb8&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AS7tjjF38YR4HbR4kkm0Why&oh=00_AYBwSI_NYE20GcOS4Gp3Z9cIpgupsh3Mf2YlnU5yhcycgw&oe=67CC282A	PERSON_PROFILE	Happyday	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,768,246	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2768222}'	Yes	2025-03-03 19:10	active	2791	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	I got home after a long day, and my parents were waiting for me in the living room. "Catherine, sit down. We need to talk," my father said, looking quite agitated. "What's going on, Dad?" I asked tiredly. I had worked all day, gone to college at night, and upon getting home, all I wanted was to take a shower and crash into bed. But that wasn't possible. "Catherine, your cousin's wedding invitation has arrived," my mother said. "That little tramp is not my cousin!" I snapped, already getting angry. "Catherine, she is your cousin," my mother insisted. "You need to stop this childish behavior. Melissa already hit her and caused a scene here at home. Enough! She's my sister's daughter, which makes her your cousin." "I'm sorry, Mom, but she means nothing to me," I tried to stay calm. "She slept with my boyfriend in my bed. That's not something she should do." I had been dating Claude for four years; he was my first boyfriend, and I found him in my bed, in my room, sleeping with Kelly, my cousin! I was in shock. Of course, Melissa, my best friend, went after them. Since then, things had been tensed at home because my parents insisted it was silly and that I should act as if nothing had happened and go back to being around my cousin. "He was wrong, Catherine, since he was your boyfriend," my mother argued. "Kelly, poor thing, was seduced. He dishonored her, now he's marrying her so she won't be talked about badly in town." "Oh, Mom! Spare me! The whole town knows Kelly is a shameless woman..." I lost my patience. "Catherine, watch your language!" my father scolded me. "Look, if you don't want to be around Kelly, fine, but you're going to this wedding. And enough with this rude behavior." "I'm what?" I thought I had heard wrong. "You're going to your cousin's wedding, Catherine. That's an order! We're your parents, and you'll obey," my mother spoke angrily at me as if I were the one in the wrong. "I'm sorry, Mom, but I won't! I follow your rules, I'm a good daughter, but this time I can't. I was the one who was wronged! I have every right not to want to be the family joke anymore," I said, already crying. "ENOUGH, CATHERINE!" my father shouted, startling me. "You're going to this wedding, and that's final." "But, Dad..." "I don't want to hear it, Catherine! It's important to your mother to keep peace in the family. So you're going, period," my father said, leaving no room for argument. I spent the night crying in my room. The next day, I told Melissa everything. She wasted no time and arranged invitations to a masquerade ball, a gala event. She told my parents it would be crucial for my career since the city's most important businesspeople would be there. I could make valuable connections, and our professors had promised to introduce us to various entrepreneurs who could open doors for our professional future. At first, my parents weren't entirely convinced, but Melissa's parents talked to them and persuaded them that it would be an excellent opportunity for my future. So they agreed that I should take advantage of it. "Catherine, you can't say no to me! I've already bought the tickets and masks, and I even convinced your parents that this is a super important event for your professional future, which was such hard work. This party is going to be incredible, and you're not going to miss it!" Melissa looked at me with puppy dog eyes, clasping her hands together as if begging. I was sitting at my desk at work in the middle of a Thursday afternoon, between taking messages and making calls, when Mel showed up with coffee, chocolate muffins, and this persistence about getting me to agree to go to the masquerade ball, which was the biggest annual event in our city. "Oh, Mel, how is it that I can never say no to you? Alright, I'll go!" I agreed to go to the ball, but I still wasn't sure. Either way, I was going to sleep at Mel's house to avoid the wedding, but I wasn't planning on going to the party. However, Melissa kept pushing until she convinced me to go. On Saturday, we got ready at her place. "Wow, girl! You look absolutely stunning!" She handed me a beautiful golden mask, intricately designed like lace that covered up to my nose, and I put it on. I was wearing a shimmering red satin dress, and the mask matched perfectly. "So, are we ready?" "Yes, we're ready," I replied and grabbed my purse. "Oh, I forgot my perfume." "No problem, you can use my mom's new perfume. She won't mind." When Fred, Mel's boyfriend, saw us, he smiled, gave Mel a kiss, and said: "Girls, you look gorgeous! I think you'll leave this party with a new boyfriend, Cat." "No boyfriend, Fred. Actually, I think I'd better stay, I'm not in the party mood. Please, Mel, let me stay?" Chapter 2 There was no way out - my friend dragged me to the ball. As soon as we got in, Mel pulled us to the bar and whispered in my ear: "It's an open bar tonight, so you're going to drink until all that sadness washes away!" Mel handed me two tequila shots while holding two more in her hands. "Let's down these!" We knocked back the tequila, and Fred was already handing each of us a cosmopolitan. Melissa dragged me to the dance floor, and I was actually having fun. When a slow song started playing, Fred and Mel began slow dancing together. I took that as my cue to head to the buffet, but I didn't make it there. I felt someone grab my hand, and when I turned around, there was a man in a black mask smiling at me - and what a smile! He kissed my hand and pulled me close, whispering in my ear with a husky voice: "Surely the most beautiful woman in the room won't deny me a dance, will she?" "And why not? Let's dance," I smiled back at him. It was impossible to resist that seductive husky voice and that gorgeous crooked smile! He was tall with broad shoulders, had a charming smile and blue eyes - so blue they were almost violet. He had sinfully tempting lips, brown hair, and when he pulled me by the waist, I placed my hands on his chest and could feel he was a wall of well-defined muscle. Although the mask concealed his face, he was very charming and enchanting. "I've been watching you since you arrived," this mysterious man whispered in my ear. "You're so beautiful!" "You're kind. But you're not from around here, are you?" He had a powerful presence, radiating authority. "No. A friend convinced me to come to this party." "Looks like we have something in common - my friends convinced me to come too." "Lucky me!" "And why's that?" I smiled. "Because I was captivated the moment I saw you. You're stunning." As he whispered in my ear, I got goosebumps, feeling my face flush and my body tingle - he truly had me enchanted. "Even with the mask?" "Even with the mask! You're too beautiful." "You're such a charmer." "You think I'm charming?" "You know you are. And handsome too." "I'm glad you like what you see." "And what do you do for a living, handsome?" - I felt a bit dizzy, not sure if it was from the drink or the delicious cologne that man was wearing. I ended up stumbling over my own feet. "Are you okay?" "I think I need some air." "Come with me." - He pulled me into a dark hallway that led to an emergency exit and started fanning my face. - "I really want to kiss you. May I?" - I nodded yes. He looked into my eyes, held the back of my neck, and our lips met. It started slow but deepened; he pressed me against the wall, and the kiss intensified even more, almost taking our breath away. When he broke the kiss so we could breathe, we looked into each other's eyes - it was like throwing gasoline on fire. He ran his hand down my waist to my leg and pulled my leg up to his waist. I was completely surrendered by then, feeling his body against mine. I went crazy with desire and pulled him closer, wrapping my leg around his waist. "You're a great kisser!" - I smiled at him and felt my whole body tingle. "Oh, beautiful, you're incredible. I want you so badly, here, right now!" - he said between kisses and slipped his hand under my dress, pulling it up and reaching my underwear. I was on fire when he put his hand inside my underwear and yelled. - "Oh! So delicious! So hot, so wet!" - He said and kissed me harder while unzipping his pants. With a quick movement, like someone who had done this before, he tore my underwear and caressed my entrance, as if asking for permission. He looked into my eyes again and asked: "What do you want me to do?" "I want you inside me now!" I responded shamelessly, already panting with desire. I couldn't resist those eyes and that husky voice. I'd never been like this before - normally, I would have pulled away the moment he grabbed my hand, but tonight I had promised myself to have fun and live in the moment if someone interesting came along. And that's exactly what I was doing, living in the moment. Hearing me, he entered me slowly, watching as I leaned my head against the wall and savored every inch of him - and he was huge. He took the opportunity to scatter kisses along my neck. When he was fully inside, he paused and whispered between kisses in my ear: "Now I'm going to move." He pulled out only to thrust back in with full force this time, and it was incredible. I was completely lost and driven wild by his movements as he moved in and out of me frantically. We lost control and gave ourselves over completely, as if nothing else existed around us. I felt a haze in my eyes as my climax began to build, and I moaned softly in his ear. At that moment, he seemed to go crazy, lifting my other leg to his waist as I wrapped them around him. Kissing me intensely, he thrust even harder into me - it was heaven on earth. I came again, even more intensely than before, leaving me breathless. As I was coming, he whispered that he was close to his limit feeling me pulse around him, and soon I felt his hot release inside me. We stayed there against that wall, completely breathless, his forehead resting against mine. While kissing me, he slowly withdrew, and I was thoroughly satisfied - as Melissa would say. I smiled and he looked at me, gave me a soft kiss and said: "You're truly amazing!" He gently lowered my legs until my feet touched the ground, fixed my dress, adjusted his pants, and hugged me. It was so intimate, so affectionate - despite the wildness of our encounter and the intensity with which we'd given in to each other, he was still gentle with me. I'd never had such an incredible experience, but I'd only ever been with my ex until now. And my ex had never cared about hugging me afterward, or worried about my pleasure - for him, it was just about getting in and out until he was satisfied. So having a man care about me, about my pleasure, take care of me - it was new, and amazingly so. He kissed my neck and whispered in my ear: "So, beautiful, I still don't know your name." It took me seconds to process and finally realize that I'd just slept with a complete stranger whose name I didn't even know. Just as I was about to speak, he pulled his phone from his pocket and asked for a minute to answer it. He stepped away slightly and I could only hear him raising his voice saying: "What did you say?" At that moment, the stranger ran off as if he'd forgotten about me, or as if he was just running away from the woman he'd quickly hooked up with at the party. Of course, Catherine, you're an idiot! But so what? I was just having fun too, and I didn't even know who the guy was, and he didn't know who I was. All good. I pulled myself together, looked in vain for my underwear - no idea where he'd thrown it - and left that hallway. I went back to the table and found Mel and Fred making out. They soon stopped and focused on me: "Mel, I think I found the Big Bad Wolf!" I laughed, and she laughed with me. "When we get home, I want to know everything!" "Of course you do!" I replied with sparkling eyes. "Prince, I think we can go now. What do you think, Cat?" "I'm ready whenever you are!" I said, downing a glass of water. "Let's go then, girls!" Fred said and led us to the exit. We'd barely gotten home when Mel started demanding: "Tell me everything - who is he, how it went, how it didn't go, everything." I laughed and told her everything. When I finished speaking, my friend was staring at me open-mouthed and asked: "You guys used protection, right?" My heart started racing! We hadn't used protection. I shook my head no at her; I was in shock realizing how careless I'd been. She immediately tried to calm me down: "No, Cat, calm down. I'm sure nothing will come of it. But you should get some tests done to make sure everything's okay. I'm going to the kitchen to make us some tea. Don't freak out!" Chapter 3 On Monday during lunch, I met Mel. She handed me a small bag from a fancy store, and I looked at her, confused. "My mom asked me to give this to you. She said it's perfect for you and doesn't suit her," Mel said with a big smile. I opened the bag, and inside was the perfume I had worn to the ball. A huge smile spread across my face. I loved that perfume, and it was part of the best night of my life. I just hoped that my best night hadn't left me with an STD as a souvenir. With that thought, I thanked Mel and told her I'd call her mom later, then mentioned I wanted to call the lab to schedule some tests. I called the laboratory and was informed that I needed a doctor's prescription to get the tests covered by health insurance. Thank God the company provided health insurance for employees because otherwise, I wouldn't know what to do. My salary wasn't high, and what little was left after covering college expenses went to helping at home, since my mom didn't work outside the house and my dad didn't make much as a driver. So I made a doctor's appointment, but the earliest available slot was two weeks away, and I waited anxiously. The more days passed, the more nervous I became, though Mel did everything to calm me down. On the scheduled date, she went to the doctor's with me. With the list of tests in hand, she personally scheduled the lab work and insisted on accompanying me. Three weeks had passed since the party when I finally got the tests done. The results came back five days later, and I returned to the doctor. Of course, Mel was with me. The doctor checked the results and looked me in the eyes: "Miss Catherine, your health is excellent. You're healthy. But from now on, you'll need to take better care of yourself." I breathed a sigh of relief, but was I really about to get lectured by the doctor for having unprotected bedlife with a stranger? Well, I deserved it - not using protection was silly, I could have caught a disease. And then he continued: "Congratulations, you're conceived! I'm going to refer you to an OB-GYN for prenatal care..." I didn't hear anything else, just the blood pulsing in my ears. I couldn't believe this! conceived? How would I explain this? It's not possible. Me, of all people, the perfect goody-two-shoes who never stepped out of line, who always considered the consequences before doing anything, who was always responsible - the first time I let rationality slide, I ended up conceived and didn't even know who the father was! Mel held my hand and kept repeating: "Calm down, Cat, everything will be okay!" How could everything be okay? I didn't even know who the father was. I would have to tell my parents, their only daughter would break their hearts. They would be disappointed, hate me, and kick me out of the house. How could I explain that I don't even know what the father of my child looks like? I was already hyperventilating. Suddenly, I felt the doctor taking my hand and speaking calmly: "Easy now, dear! The situation, from what I can see, isn't ideal, but you can't get this nervous, it will harm your baby. Now you have to take care of yourself for the baby's sake. I'm sure the people who love you will support and help you. But you need to calm down because only you can ensure this baby develops healthily and is born strong. Do you understand me?" I looked at that short, white-haired, slightly chubby gentleman, with his glasses perched on the tip of his nose, and nodded positively. Somehow he calmed me down a bit, maybe because his eyes sparkled with a kindness and understanding that we rarely see these days. The doctor asked his secretary to bring me some chamomile tea, and while I drank it and tried to calm down, he gave all the information to Melissa, who listened attentively. We left the office and Melissa took me to a diner, saying we needed to eat something. As soon as I sat down, I felt the tears falling. My friend hugged me and told me once again that I wasn't alone. I looked at her and said: "The only thing I'm sure of right now is that I want you and Fred to be my child's godparents because I know you'll support them and give them lots of love." Her eyes sparkled, and she burst into tears, responding between sobs: "I'll be the best godmother in the world and I'll always be close to our baby! And I'm sure Fred will be very happy too!" She assured me she would always be by my side, made it clear that I wouldn't go through anything alone, and that she would be with me when I talked to my parents. My parents... oh! I started thinking and decided I wouldn't hide it from them for even a day; I would tell them that very night. I wouldn't go to college, I would go home to talk to them. Mel immediately supported me and said: "Let's go then, I'm with you!" When we arrived at my house, my parents were startled, and my mom came right over, worried: "Girls, didn't you go to class today? Is everything okay?" "Not really, Mom. I need to talk to you both." My parents immediately realized it was something very serious. We all sat in the living room and I told them what was happening, admitting I had been irresponsible by hooking up with a stranger at the party. I obviously didn't go into details, but I made it clear that I couldn't find my child's father again. The disappointment in their eyes was evident. My mother was sobbing uncontrollably, saying I was ruined. My father hadn't said anything yet. Seeing how upset my mother was, Melissa quickly went to the kitchen and came back with a glass of sugar water for her. Melissa always gives sugar water to nervous people, saying it calms them down - I never understood that. Finally, my father spoke: "You made a huge mistake and there's no going back." My parents were very simple people. My father was a tall, strong man, and my mother was an older version of me, but both had great character and solid principles they always made sure to pass on to me. Hearing my father emphasize that I had messed up made my heart ache even more. I started crying and said: "I know, Dad, I was irresponsible. But there's nothing I can do now. I'll drop out of college to raise my child. And I'm going to pack my bags..." "Pack your bags? You're very mistaken if you think you're leaving this house like that. You made a mistake, and you disappointed us, but we love you, we'll get through this and we'll help you. You're not alone, my daughter! And neither is this child!" My father said this and my heart filled with hope. "But Dad, I brought shame to you..." "You're not the first and won't be the last single mother in this world. We would have liked things to be different for you, not so difficult. You've always been so responsible! But if this is how it is, we'll face it together. You won't leave college - more than ever, you need to grow in life to take care of your child. You're going to be a single mother, your responsibility is huge. We'll help you, and even though it will be difficult, everything will work out." Melissa was already crying and quickly spoke to my parents: "Mr. Anthony, Mrs. Selina, you can count on me, I'll help with everything! Besides, I'm this baby's godmother, Cat is like a sister to me, and I'll always be around." My parents looked at her gratefully. I looked at those three feeling completely blessed to have them in my life, full of love for them and experiencing a totally new feeling for that little being still growing inside me, whose existence I had just discovered! As difficult as being a single mother would be, that night at the ball was the best night of my life. I could never forget those violet-blue eyes looking at me with adoration during our furtive encounter and everything my body experienced that night. I would always have that sweet memory with me. The following months were difficult. I kept the dress, shoes, mask, and perfume that Mel's mother gave me in a box. On difficult days, I would open that box and relive that night in my memory. Although I had a peaceful pregnancy, people's comments and cruelty were hard to bear. To make matters worse, after they got married, my ex and my cousin moved in with her parents, who lived on the same street as us. They made sure to humiliate me with nasty comments whenever they saw me and spread throughout the neighborhood that I didn't know who my child's father was and that I was a loose woman, which was why Claude had left me. I wanted to end them! Kelly's mother, who was my mother's sister, never missed a chance to come to our house and torment us, saying how fortunate it was that her daughter wasn't like me, that she was a good girl who had married a decent man. She seemed to have forgotten that she had stolen my boyfriend and slept with him in my bed. But I swallowed it all; it wasn't worth arguing with these people, and I didn't want to transmit negative feelings to my child. As the days went by, I loved that baby more and more. I had no idea such love could exist. Everything I did, I did for him. I would protect him from everything; I would give my life to him. And surprisingly, during the whole time of carrying with a baby, everything seemed to flow in my favor, things were falling into place and working out. My boss was great, understood my situation, and even gave me a small raise, which was a huge help! Mel and Fred showered me with attention, they were in love with their godchild even before knowing if it would be a girl or boy. They insisted on buying everything for the nursery, which turned out beautiful. Mel accompanied me to all appointments and every test, never missing anything. She even organized two baby showers - one at the company and another at college. My child would come into the world surrounded by love. I found out I was having a boy and decided to name him Peter. And so it was. Peter was born healthy, with a pair of huge violet-blue eyes that would never let me forget the night that changed my life, but was also the best night I'd ever had! I would never forget that man! My son was surrounded by love from the first moment. My parents were enchanted by their grandson. Mel and Fred came to our house every day to see their godson and check how we were doing. Mel was always there supporting me in everything. Her parents also came to visit Peter and said they would be honorary grandparents since they considered me their daughter too, which I found beautiful. They also surrounded me with care. They insisted on giving the stroller as a gift, and the day Peter was born, they came to the maternity ward with a huge basket of flowers and welcome balloons. After my maternity leave ended, my son stayed in my mother's care while I was at work and college. I worked hard and devoted all my time not spent at college or work to my son. With the help of my parents and my son's godparents, I managed everything and didn't miss any semester in college, graduating alongside my friend Melissa. It was a great moment for me and my family. With my diploma in hand, I would now pursue a better future, with the firm purpose that my son would never lack anything. Chapter 4 When I graduated, Peter was already two years old. By then, he was walking everywhere, always clinging to grandma - which was his first word. He was a beautiful boy with straight black hair, fair skin, a cute little upturned nose, and those huge violet eyes that made me sigh. He was my sunshine! And now I would have more time for him. After graduation, my boss called me in for a chat. He was an excellent boss and said he was very happy with my work at the company, but he knew I deserved to go far, so I should look for a job in my field, and he would understand. He assured me that my job at the construction company would be mine for as long as I wanted, and if I left and things didn't work out, I would always have a place to come back to. However, he advised that I should seek something in my field of study to provide a better future for my son. I was very touched by this and accepted his good advice. I told Melissa, and she immediately said she would talk to her father about reaching out to some contacts. It didn't take long before Mr. Oliver Larson, Mel's father, called me to his office and handed me a card, saying: "Catherine, I know you're an excellent girl and a good professional. I spoke with a friend, and he arranged an interview for you at Miller Group. It's for the position of CEO's assistant. If you get this job, you'll be working in your field at a global company. It's an excellent position, but it's not here in Bellwood. You would have to move to Paradise Port. I know it's a huge step, but I think you should consider it - it will be excellent for you. Anyway, send an email to the address on the card with your response, either declining the position or accepting the virtual interview." "Mr. Larson, I don't have words to thank you! You've always been so good to me! Miller Group is one of the largest business conglomerates in the country! Working there is a dream! I'll definitely accept the interview, and if I have to move, I will. I know it will be a great opportunity," I said with conviction. It wouldn't be bad to get away from those nasty family members, especially now that "queen" Kelly was conceived and her mother decided to ask for all of Peter's things for the child of that dishonest couple! Thankfully, my mom told her that was absurd, but it wouldn't matter anyway since I had already given everything Peter had outgrown to an acquaintance who was conceived. My mom had been very upset with her sister, as she was always dismissing my son, always referring to him as the fatherless boy, which really hurt my mom. Leaving this city, I'll only regret leaving my parents and friends behind, but I know they'll support me once again. I thanked Mr. Larson and left the office. When I got to my desk, I spoke with my boss, another Mr. Larson, but since he didn't like being called that, I addressed him by his first name: "Aldo, your brother got me an interview at Miller Group." He smiled: "I know, he just called me. I think you should grab this opportunity. If it doesn't work out, you can always come back." I smiled at him and immediately sent an email to schedule the interview. I quickly received confirmation that the interview would be the next day at ten in the morning, and since I had already taken the initiative to send my resume, the interview would be brief. That night at home, I talked to my parents, who understood, even though they were worried about how I would manage to raise a child alone in another city and got teary-eyed about being far from their grandson. They supported me as always and were happy about the opportunity I received. I asked them not to tell anyone. When Mel arrived - she came every day to see her godson - I told her everything, and she helped me prepare for the next day. At the time of the interview, I went to the meeting room at my workplace; my boss had given me permission. I sat down and waited for the call. I was interviewed by a very kind and intelligent woman, Mrs. Mariana Taylor. It was very pleasant; we talked for two hours. She gave me all the information about the position, salary, and benefits. At the end, she said: "Catherine, you're hired! You'll be replacing me since I'm taking a director position at the London branch, so you'll be taking over my position here. I'd like you to start as soon as possible because I'm leaving in ten days and would like to hand everything over to you before I go. And I'd rather not reschedule my departure. When can you start?" "I just need my boss to release me, but I think I can be there on Monday." - it was already Friday, would Aldo agree to release me today? "Perfect. You can send me an email confirmation after you talk to him. Do you have any questions?" "No, ma'am. Everything is clear." "Great! Welcome to Miller Group. I'm sure you'll do very well. I'll see you on Monday." She ended the call, and my heart was racing - I had done it. The job was great, the salary even better, and I would have chances to progress. It was a dream. But now it was time to rush and sort everything out. I immediately went to talk to my boss. He was happy about it, called accounting, and had them process my settlement right away. After that, he let me go, saying I would always have a place to come back if needed, but he knew I would do very well. I thanked him for everything and left. I sent the confirmation email to Mrs. Taylor, saying I would be at the company at eight on Monday morning, and went straight to talk to Mel and her father - I had to thank them. And that's when Mel surprised me: "Did you think you were going to take my godson away just like that? No way! My father got me an interview at Lynx World in Paradise Port. I'm moving with you, and we'll live together. What do you think?" This was perfect! I was overjoyed, but quickly asked: "Mel, what about Fred?" "Fred has already requested a transfer to the Paradise Port branch at his company; he'll have better opportunities there too. He's coming in fifteen days. Friend, it's a new life for all three of us." I was so happy. Mel had orchestrated everything. Fred would drive us there, and she would take care of Peter while I worked until we found a daycare. She already had three daycares to visit, and her father had already made available a furnished apartment in the city for us. It was too good to be true; I was even scared. Noticing this, Mel nudged me and said: "Learn to accept the good things life offers you!" I smiled at her, and we went to my parents' house. It was time to break the news and say goodbye. Paradise Port is on the other side of the country, so we wouldn't see each other for a while. My parents were happy until I said I would leave the next morning - then the farewell became sad. It was hard to leave them behind, but it was necessary. With the salary I would receive, I could help them now. That was good. The next morning, Fred and Mel arrived right on time. Mel's father had given her a pickup truck as a gift, which made moving our stuff much easier. Fred loaded everything into the truck, and off we went - it would be a full day on the road. We arrived in Paradise Port late Saturday night. Peter was exhausted but had enjoyed himself immensely during the trip - everything was new and exciting to him. We got settled in, ordered some food, and after eating, went to bed. On Sunday, we explored the city to get our bearings. Paradise Port was a huge, modern industrial city on the coast. Its port attracted lots of business, making it a first-world urban center. The apartment where we would be living was close to one of the daycares Mel had contacted, which was great. It wasn't far from the company either - I could get there in twenty minutes by subway. The apartment was beautiful, with a modern design, great ventilation, and huge windows that let in plenty of natural light. That evening, we dropped Fred off at the airport and headed home to rest. The next day would be a big one - I would be starting my new job, while Mel had her virtual interview and would schedule a meeting with the director of the daycare near our apartment to visit and talk. I tucked my son into bed; he was worn out from all the fun he'd had today. As I watched him sleeping peacefully, I felt confident that we would have a really good life here. Peter now had his own room, and Mel and I had planned to buy some things to make it feel more personal and give it our own touch. I grabbed the baby monitor and went to my room. I opened one of my boxes and started organizing everything. When I opened the last box, I took out the box containing my memories from the ball night. I opened it, ran my hand over that beautiful dress, and sighed once again. I picked up the perfume and thought, "Why not?" Starting tomorrow, I would wear this perfume every day - my salary was good, and when this bottle ran out, I could buy another. I put the box away, left the perfume on the dresser, and went to bed full of expectations for this new life that was opening up before me. Chapter 5 I showed up at the company at 8:00 a.m. Mrs. Taylor gave me a warm welcome and introduced me to everyone, and they were all very kind. The boss wasn't there - he was traveling and would return at the end of the week. The office was beautiful, very modern, decorated in white with stainless steel and green accents, managing to be both professional and welcoming. It was elegant, and I really liked it. I was particularly glad I had chosen to wear a black suit with a dark green silk blouse underneath and black heels. I would need to dress elegantly every day now, after all, I would be working directly with the company president. Mid-morning, I received a message from Mel saying she had managed to schedule an appointment with the director of the daycare near our apartment during lunch hour. I explained the situation to Mrs. Taylor and asked if it would be possible to leave during that time, assuring her I would be back on schedule. "So you have a child. How old is he?" she asked with a smile. "He's two years old. He's a very clever little boy. He wasn't planned, but he's the reason for my life!" "What's his name?" "Peter." "Peter. A strong name. You're not married, I know that, but what about your son's father, are you still together?" My heart sank - how could I explain to her that I didn't know who the father was? But I don't lie, so let's face the truth. I told her that Peter's father was someone I met at a party and never saw again. She looked at me seriously, but there was no judgment in her eyes. Then she said: "You have my respect, Catherine. It's not easy being a single mother, and it's very difficult to tell truths like this when you know they might trigger others' judgment. Thank you for your trust and honesty. Go take care of the daycare arrangements for your son, we'll continue this afternoon - no need to rush." I thanked her and said goodbye, heading off to meet Mel and Peter. My admiration and respect for Mrs. Taylor only grew. She's a woman in her mid-fifties, with very light blonde hair and almost transparent blue eyes. She's a beautiful and elegant woman, but most importantly, she's very welcoming. We got along very well. During the rest of the morning, she filled me in with information about the work, and I took notes on everything. At lunchtime, I left the building, and Mel was already waiting at the door with Peter. I got in the car, and we went to lunch before heading to the daycare. Mel and I loved the daycare, and Peter was already fitting in, running around with his new little friends - he's such an outgoing boy. That made me so happy! My son was happy! We decided not to look at other daycares since this one was excellent and very close to home, just three blocks away. We completed the enrollment and sorted out all the details. The director suggested we let Peter stay until the end of the day since he was having fun and could start adapting. Mel agreed to pick him up at the end of the day. Mel dropped me back at the company and told me she'd head home to prepare for her job interview later in the afternoon. I returned to my office, arriving before Mrs. Taylor. I sat at the desk and started reviewing everything she had already told me. The phone on the desk rang, and I wasn't sure what to do, but since this would be my desk, I answered in my most professional voice: "Miller Group, Executive Office, good afternoon, how may I help you?" I heard a deathly silence on the other end followed by a long sigh. Someone spoke up with obvious impatience, in a strong and slightly hoarse voice: "Put Mariana on." I was startled but kept my composure and replied: "I'm sorry, sir, but Mrs. Taylor hasn't returned from lunch yet. May I help you, or would you like to leave a message?" "Who is this speaking," he asked, even more impatiently. "My name is Catherine, I'm Mr. Miller's new executive assistant." "But I don't know you," he seemed to grow more impatient with each word. "It's my first day here, sir. Would you like to leave a message?" "Tell Mariana to call me as soon as she sets foot in the office." "Certainly, sir. And your name is?" "Looks like I'm your boss!" He snapped and hung up. Wow, what a stressed-out man! This wasn't in the job description. My throat immediately tightened. Had I already made a bad impression on my boss? I was so screwed! I started thinking I wouldn't last long in this job. Shortly after, Mrs. Taylor arrived and I passed on the message with a worried look on my face. She looked at me with a smile, as if understanding my concern, and asked: "Was he calm?" I looked at her and couldn't help myself: "He was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I'm pretty sure I could see his jugular vein popping out of his neck." She burst out laughing and then said: "You two are going to get along great! You'll tame the beast, I'm sure of it." I wasn't so sure about that. Maybe I shouldn't even unpack my bags, this man was going to eat me alive!	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2,768,315	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 19:10	active	2791	Read next chapter	To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blde. "You're the one who climbed into my bd back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi*ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his bdmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my bd, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in bd. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her chst. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red mrk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my bd too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You bch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame graning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e	Popular romance stories	https://www.facebook.com/100083149047490/	17,999	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	VIDEO		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0130-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=673595984708315&exdata=E7C53BDECE0DE88B50EED0A4EF64048F130457B7BE038D68	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475573849_1126259252843568_3222091665520139100_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=qeeI_lniNyQQ7kNvgEPMt0c&_nc_oc=AdjajpWEqCboBUW7FVyII9VdYgH6n46QEij0J5lwbzfd47ut2xKckAIN08_rWcYAequENzzIOxcHNZM4cbUf9nsw&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A4QjXXEWj6cuIGTDBI7ajKv&oh=00_AYCPskRAFittIbpgiuQaRQYSk0k09PxF08ZLF3nqOMYiNg&oe=67CC294D	PERSON_PROFILE	Popular romance stories	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,768,126	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2768041}'	No	2025-03-03 19:10	active	2791	❤😍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/	3,810	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/t39.35426-6/480575812_539712508525793_846089132092031409_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=QCsnRFZFTEwQ7kNvgGGM2cr&_nc_oc=AdgOpuQ3vFDIqYgI1DeESJRdiphbvvgnJDO5vcad70Z3YNKdLXHSlTYje0B9Lb97rfALgtJ_hqQprGRlQHoLP8ym&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ABywi5LrjV6bWjCLndJN5zv&oh=00_AYAg2hPJ7qz4DzS3Oi3rn7y25gJp4NoL_kE1jjJmfmjhKA&oe=67CC3209	PERSON_PROFILE	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,768,291	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 19:10	active	2791	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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2,768,530	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2768523}'	No	2025-03-03 19:11	active	2791	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1 As the upcoming tour approached, the dance troupe suddenly revoked my position as the lead dancer. Anxious to get an explanation in person, I lost my footing due to my distracted state and tumbled down the stairs. While enduring the sharp pain and preparing to call for emergency services, a notification popped up on my phone screen: “Redwood Dance Troupe: Welcome our new lead dancer, Averil Wells, and our generous sponsor, Julian Ford." The accompanying photo featured two smiling faces—my husband of seven years, whom I had secretly married, and his pampered mistress. Julian had his arm wrapped around Averil's waist as he placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. Meanwhile, Averil clung to Julian's neck, her face radiating shyness and delight. I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and posted a photo of our marriage certificate in the comments section: "Is your troupe’s new production called the Union of Illegitimates?" Before long, Julian called me. "Victoria Dean, what stupid thing are you doing now? How many times do I have to tell you that Averil and I are just putting on a show." I sniffled. "Julian, what gives you the right to take away my lead dancer role?" There was a brief silence on the other end. "Are you part of Redwood?" After a pause, he added nonchalantly, "Averil wanted the lead role in this tour as her birthday gift. I didn’t realize that role was yours. Go online and clarify immediately. Tell everyone that the marriage certificate was doctored." I found it laughable. He didn’t even know where I worked but remembered Averil’s birthday gift request. "And then? Why would I fake a marriage certificate?" Julian replied calmly, "You can say you’re just a fan of mine." "Julian Ford, what do you take me for?" He sighed softly on the other end. "Victoria, we’ve been married for seven years. We’re practically an old married couple. Averil is young; there’s no need to compete with her." He must have forgotten that I married him before finishing college. Though we’d been married for seven years, I was only a year older than Averil. "Julian, I fell down the stairs, and my leg hurts." "Victoria, it’s just an apology and a clarification. It’s not that hard." Julian sounded genuinely disappointed. "When did you turn into such a shameless liar?" Drip. Drip. Tears, mingled with blood from my nose, splattered onto the back of my hand. Pressing a hand over my mouth, I hung up the call. Julian called again, but I immediately put his number on silent. I called for an ambulance myself. When the paramedics arrived, they asked if I had any family to accompany me. "No," I replied numbly, tilting my head back. "They're all gone." On the way to the hospital, Julian sent me a message, "Victoria, Averil was so upset by you that she fainted. You need to come to the hospital immediately to apologize in person. Bring an appropriate gift; there will be reporters present. Don’t worry about your reputation. This mess is your fault to begin with." My hands trembled as I typed a two-word reply, “Keep dreaming." Then I turned off my phone, shutting myself away in solitude. While waiting in the hospital hallway for my X-ray results, I unexpectedly heard a familiar voice: "Mr. Watson, I’m Victoria’s boyfriend. If there’s anything she needs moving forward, feel free to contact me directly." I looked up, locking eyes with Julian as he walked in. His steps faltered for a moment, his movements stiff, but he quickly acted as if he didn’t recognize me. Continuing his conversation with Benjamin Watson, he passed me without a second glance. The faint citrus scent clinging to him twisted my stomach in knots. I almost bolted, but Julian turned back. He seemed to have rushed over, and when he noticed I was still there, a flicker of exasperation crossed his face. "Victoria, have you thought it through?" "I told you to keep dreaming." I pushed past him, limping away in the opposite direction. I felt Julian's gaze linger on my injured leg for a moment, growing colder by the second. "Victoria, are you really stooping to this kind of ploy just to avoid apologizing?" I didn’t want to respond. All I wanted was to get away from this hallway, thick with the scent of Averil’s perfume. A large hand grabbed my shoulder, yanking me back. I stumbled, barely able to steady myself as a sharp pain shot through my leg. "Ah!" I couldn’t hold back a cry of pain. Julian’s brow furrowed in irritation, his tone laced with displeasure. "You’ve really let me down." With practiced ease, he reached into my pocket and took my phone. "Give it back!" I stretched my arm to snatch it, but Julian, clearly annoyed, gave me a firm shove. "Hank, hold her." The bodyguard, tall and imposing, pinned me effortlessly. I couldn’t break free. "Julian Ford!!" Chapter 2 A mask was tossed over. "Cover her mouth. Stop her from screaming." My wrist was locked in a crushing grip, my legs throbbed with pain, and my mouth was tightly covered. All I could do was let my tears flow helplessly. I could only watch as Julian took my phone, logged into my account, and posted an apology and clarification in my name. "I’ve changed your password and replaced your verification number with mine. For now, just stay out of trouble." When Julian finally looked up and saw my state, he seemed startled. He pushed Hank, away, glaring at him in reproach. "Did you really have to use that much force?" He rubbed my wrist gently. "Does it hurt? If you’d listened earlier, this wouldn’t have happened." I snatched my phone back and reluctantly opened my social media, only to find a post uploaded from my account that read: "I apologize for my earlier comment on Redwood Dance Troupe’s post. I am not married to Mr. Julian Ford. As a fan, I acted on selfish impulses. I also want to apologize to Ms. Averil Wells and Mr. Julian Ford for any trouble I’ve caused." My hands trembled as I tried to open the comments section. "Victoria, have you no shame?" “Victoria, my God, your desperation to become the other woman practically oozes through the screen." "Victoria, people like you are a disgrace to dancers everywhere. Get out of this industry!" ... Julian took the phone from my hand again. "Don’t look." I moved my lips, my voice low and unsteady. "Julian, is this what you wanted?" He turned his face away. "People online forget quickly. I’ll have someone redirect the narrative later. Just stay off your phone for a few days." I shook my head slowly, my vision unfocused. "Julian, you’ve destroyed me." I couldn’t make out his expression, but his voice, tinged with irritation, rang in my ears. "I already told you I’ll handle it. Why are you making a scene? If you hadn’t caused all this trouble yourself, would things be this messy? Victoria, you have to understand that even if I deliberately put you in the spotlight, it’s your own fault you ended up like this!" A sharp ringing filled my ears, drowning out everything else as a bitter laugh escaped my lips. "Julian, let’s get a divorce." He seemed to chuckle, his voice indulgent yet exasperated. "You’re upset right now. If venting helps, go ahead." He was convinced I wouldn’t divorce him, using his supposed tolerance to display his magnanimity. Surprisingly, Julian’s laughter brought me an eerie sense of calm. Just then, the doctor called my name from the other end of the hallway. "Victoria Dean, your test results are ready." Julian froze for a moment and followed after me. "What test results?" "Julian,” a soft voice called out from behind him. “Why have you been gone so long?" He immediately turned back, heading toward Averil, who stood at the doorway of her hospital room. "Averil, why did you come out? You should be resting. Get back to bed," he said, his tone filled with concern. Dragging my numb, pain-ridden leg, I walked in the opposite direction, completely away from him. It felt as though I were stepping on razor blades. Every step sliced through my flesh. Every step tore through my soul. The doctor handed me the results and warned me that I needed to rest for the next month. Without it, dancing again would be out of the question. I hailed a cab and returned home to face the cold emptiness of my apartment alone. Because of our secret marriage, Julian and I maintained separate residences. He’d deliberately chosen the unit right above mine. On my first night there, he pinned me against the wall and kissed me. "Now I can sneak into your bed every night.” Julian seemed to take particular pleasure in this illicit game, as though the secrecy added a thrill. I once thought it was just a peculiar quirk beneath his otherwise serious exterior. But I was wrong. The thrill wasn’t about secrecy—it was about betrayal. He had grown bored of me and set his sights on the newer, more enticing Averil. Chapter 3 At nine in the evening, Julian arrived with a bag of fruit. "Victoria, I got you some cherries. Want to have some now?" I tossed my phone at him. The screen displayed Averil’s latest post: "I said I wanted sweet-and-sour cherries, and he ended up buying regular ones instead. Hilarious." "Did she not want them, so you decided to throw them my way?" Julian frowned. "Don’t be like this..." He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around my waist in a familiar gesture. "Is this because I haven’t touched you for so long? Are you upset about that?" I shoved him away with all my strength, then made a point of gagging a few times right in front of him. Dark clouds gathered on his face. "Victoria Dean, that’s enough. Stop acting like this." "Acting like what?" My heart ached, tears streaming down my face. "Do you have any idea how many hateful calls I’ve received? Do you know I’ve been blacklisted by every major dance troupe? My career is ruined! Julian Ford, what did I do wrong to deserve this?" I’ve always been the quiet, mild-tempered type—in other words, easy to push around. Julian used to playfully tug on my earlobe, his voice full of affection. "Victoria, you’re so easy to bully. What would you do without me?" I never once imagined he’d leave me behind. Years ago, when my parents took their own lives under a cloud of scandal, the entire world turned its back on me. Julian was the one who pulled me out of the mud. He stood up to his family for me, and I still remember how he knelt in the rain for hours, defying their disapproval. He took me far away from the pain and gave us a fresh start in a new city. Even when I was at my lowest, broken and worthless, Julian didn’t give up on me The hardest days were behind us, yet now I faced his betrayal. “Let’s divorce,” I said, closing my eyes. “At least let me keep some dignity.” "Victoria..." Julian pinched the bridge of his nose, looking weary. "This isn’t the first time you got insulted, so why are you acting so delicate now?" My eyes flew open in disbelief, and I stared at him, stunned. “What did you just say?” Julian pressed his lips into a thin line, his expression dark. “When your parents took their lives, the whole country was cursing you—” “Get out!” I screamed, grabbing a cushion from the sofa and hurling it at him. “Get out!” Julian looked utterly taken aback. He had never seen me so hysterical. After a moment of stunned silence, he stormed out, taking the bag of cherries with him. “Don’t need my leftovers, huh? Fine. Let’s see how long you can hold out,” he snapped as he left. Not even ten minutes later, Averil posted another update. "First day in the new place—this décor is so tacky. What kind of tasteless guy thought this up?" The photograph showed his upstairs apartment. The so-called "tacky décor" was all my work. Julian even replied to her post, "Yeah, it’s pretty bad. Let’s tear it down and redo it." I rubbed my sore eyes, my tears long dried. A house could be redecorated. A partner could be replaced. To him, I was nothing more than an old, discarded toy. When yet another harassing phone call came through, I finally pulled out my SIM card and replaced it with the number I’d used during my overseas performances. Back then, a prestigious international dance troupe had extended me an offer, but I had turned down the opportunity because I couldn’t bear to part with Julian. Now, with my heart pounding, I nervously dialed the number that had contacted me back then. “Hello, is this Mr. Jason Yates?” There was silence on the other end. If not for the faint sound of breathing, I would have thought the call had been disconnected. Why wasn’t he speaking? Had he seen the trending news? Clutching the phone tightly, my palms grew damp with sweat. “Mr. Yates, please listen to me. I didn’t do any of those things. I’ve tried to post a clarification, but my social media account has been taken over. Every time I create a new one, my post gets deleted within seconds. I…” “Wait for me.” A low, muffled male voice interrupted me. It sounded unexpectedly familiar but was completely different from the blond-haired Jason I remembered. I froze. “You’re not Jason?” “Wait for me,” the voice repeated before abruptly hanging up. I stood there, bewildered, trying to make sense of what just happened. As I was still in a daze, a text message came through, "Taking off. Turning off my phone." A few seconds later, another message arrived, "Wait for me to return. I’ll take you away." Chapter 4 Although his words were vague, they made his stance clear. I exhaled in relief. Over the next few days, I started packing my belongings and handling the necessary paperwork. I didn’t have much—just one suitcase in total. I left behind everything Julian had ever bought for me. It wasn’t because I was virtuous, nor was it because I still had feelings for him. He had cheated, leaving me utterly broken. When my world crumbled, my parents died in disgrace, and I became a pariah hounded by those who blamed me for the children’s deaths, it was Julian who saved me. I didn’t know how he convinced his father, but after that long night kneeling in the rain, he was cast out of the Ford family. At the same time, the relentless attacks against me online suddenly disappeared. He gave me a new name, a new identity, and a new life. He truly caught me as I was falling, staying by my side through the darkest of days. For that alone, I couldn’t bring myself to hate him. All I wanted now was for us to part on good terms. After three days of silence, Julian showed up again. "Have you come to your senses after taking some time to cool off?" I nodded, calm and collected. "I have." He misunderstood me, a smug arc lifting his brow. "Good. That’s more like it, Victoria. Remember your place. If you behave, I’ll take care of you. But if you overstep your boundaries, I’ll make sure you’re left with nothing." He delivered his threats, but when I stayed silent, his gaze wavered, a hint of confusion flickering in his eyes. "Are you done talking?" I placed the divorce papers on the table. "If so, just sign them." Julian’s gaze darkened as he stared at the document. His cold eyes turned even frostier. "Victoria, you’ve known about my relationship with Averil for a long time. Why couldn’t you, like before, just pretend nothing happened? Why not turn a blind eye and continue enjoying the comfort of being Mrs. Ford? "Everything she has, you have too. And what she doesn’t have, I can give you. Victoria, you shouldn’t be so ungrateful." I stared at Julian in shock, unable to believe those words had come out of his mouth. I still remembered back in high school, when Julian found out his father had cheated. His mother discovered the affair, and the resulting chaos rocked the entire family. Julian’s father shouted at his mother, "Men in my position are expected to have mistresses. I’m not divorcing you, so stop making a scene." At fifteen, Julian had grabbed a baseball bat and shattered a porcelain vase next to his father. Amid the scattered shards, he said coldly, "A man without responsibility doesn’t deserve to be called a man." At that moment, I thought Julian was the coolest person in the world. But now, fifteen years later, that once-principled boy had grown into the exact kind of man he had once despised. The thirty-year-old Julian had become a mirror image of the father he loathed. The realization made me sick to my stomach. "Not a chance," I said, pushing the divorce papers closer to him again. "After the divorce, you can keep as many women as you like." Julian stared at me for a long moment before finally picking up the papers between two fingers, his expression unreadable. "You want a divorce? Fine. But don’t you think it’s time we settle the debt you owe me for all these years?" I nodded and took out a bank card. "There’s one million in this account. It’s more than enough to cover the cost of my living expenses over the years." Julian’s brows furrowed as he looked at the card I had clearly prepared in advance. "One million? Do you think that’s enough?" "It’s enough." I met his gaze firmly. "I’ve kept track of every household expense. The records are in the study if you want to verify them. The luxury items and jewelry you bought me are all accounted for as well. The ones I used have already been depreciated and factored into the total. "Julian Ford, I owe you nothing." He was silent for so long that I thought he might refuse. But then, to my surprise, he let out a low chuckle. "I was planning to take you to a charity gala tomorrow night. But since you don’t need me, let’s forget about it." His gaze lingered on my face for a few seconds, as though he were searching for a hint of regret. But he was destined to be disappointed. My expression remained calm, devoid of any emotional fluctuation. "We’re in a secret marriage, Julian. The role of Mrs. Ford can be replaced anytime." His lips pressed into a thin line before he tossed an invitation onto the table. "Your name is on it. Come with me tomorrow night, and I’ll agree to the divorce." Chapter 5 I had no idea what Julian was trying to accomplish. But I had no other choice but to agree. When I changed into the gown Julian sent over and arrived at the venue, chauffeured by his driver, I realized I had underestimated his cruelty. This wasn’t a private gala at all. The red carpet was lined with media reporters and cameras, while fans holding flowers and banners screamed the names of their idols. I barely had time to process it before someone noticed me. "Look! Isn’t that the fake marriage fraudster?" Ever since Julian used my account to post that forced apology, I’d been labeled as the "fake marriage fraudster." I had seen countless insults online, but no amount of text could compare to the humiliation of hearing the taunts whispered directly in my ear. "Victoria Dean, how do you even have the nerve to show your face here?" "Look at her dress. Averil’s wearing white, and so is she. Typical attention-seeking move." "Don’t even try to compare her to our idol, Averil. She’s not worthy!" "Exactly. Averil’s dress is haute couture, straight off the runway, and hers? Looks like a two-year-old knockoff." The vicious jeers flooded my ears. I tried to turn and escape, but a "staff member" grabbed my arm. Looking up, I recognized him instantly—it was Hank, Julian’s bodyguard. He smiled at me, his eyes glinting with malice. "Miss Dean, Mr. Ford said you must enter the venue." Hank was a distant relative of Averil. Last time at the hospital, he had purposely gripped me so hard that bruises bloomed all over my arm. Julian had seen it but only gave a cursory reprimand. Now, he had unleashed him on me again. The Julian who once cherished me like I was his whole world was long gone. Bitterness welled up inside me, sharp and sour, but there was no escaping. Hank dragged me forward, half-pulling, half-shoving. "Look at Victoria’s awkward walk! Doesn’t she look like a lame old mule?" "She’s probably trying to crash the red carpet and got shut down by the bodyguard!" "Victoria, you’re a trashy parasite!" Before I could react, a sharp insult was followed by a sudden blow—a drink bottle hurtled toward me out of nowhere, hitting me squarely. I tried to dodge, but Hank deliberately blocked my way, even shoving me toward the incoming bottle. “Ah!” Purple grape juice splattered all over me, soaking my white gown and leaving it stained and blotchy. "Ha! Doesn’t she look like she’s on her period?" "Fake marriage fraudster, don’t you have any shame? Get out of here!" "If I were you, I’d just jump off a building and be done with it. The thicker the skin, the cheaper the person!" Amid the harsh laughter, I struggled to wrench free from Hank’s grip. "Let me go! I need to change!" Hank gave me a mocking glance. "Sorry, but even if you’re barely breathing, you’re going into the venue tonight. Mr. Ford said if you want the divorce, you’ll get through tonight’s event first. Otherwise, you’ll face the consequences." I froze in place. Of course. How could I forget? Julian was now the rising star of the Harbor City elite. And me? A woman whose very identity couldn’t even see the light of day—what leverage did I have to fight him? I let out a bitter laugh. "Fine. Let go of me. I’ll walk myself." Hank had no intention of making things easy. Not only did he refuse to let go, but he also quickened his pace, deliberately dragging me along. Stumbling and disheveled, I was hauled through the venue, drawing more jeers and mocking stares with every step. By the time we reached Julian, Hank had transformed back into his obedient and unassuming self. Julian’s cold gaze swept over me, taking in my ruined dress. "What happened?" I glared at him, seething with anger. "Why bother pretending? Isn’t this exactly what you wanted to see?" His brow furrowed, just as a slender, pale arm reached out from behind, curling around his own. "Victoria, I’m so sorry! It was one of my fans who spilled juice on you." Averil, dressed in a flawless white couture gown, clung tightly to Julian’s side. "She probably got upset seeing you wear a dress so similar to mine. Surely you wouldn’t mind, right, Victoria?" In the past, her deliberate provocations would have ignited my anger. But now, all I wanted was to leave. "Julian Ford, you wanted me here. I showed up. You set me up for humiliation, and I endured it. You’ve made your point. Can I go now?" Though framed as a question, I had no intention of waiting for his response. I turned away, desperate to escape. "Don’t leave." Someone stepped into my path, blocking my way. Chapter 6 "Well, if it isn’t Victoria Dean, the great dancer herself. Since you’re here, why not give us a performance before you leave?" I didn’t recognize the man in front of me, but it was obvious that he was just one of Julian’s pawns sent to humiliate me. "Move," I said coldly, my expression hardened. "Oh, look at that attitude." The man sized me up as if I were a product on display. "Still think you’re the rising star of the dance world? You do know, don’t you? You’ve already been blacklisted from the industry." His words knocked the breath out of me, leaving me feeling like I’d plunged into icy water. "Julian," I said, turning to him. "Is he telling the truth?" Julian swirled the wine in his glass, his gaze distant and cold. "This is your punishment for what you did wrong." I couldn’t hold back anymore and pressed him. "What did I do wrong? What could possibly justify you ruining my career and cutting off all my opportunities? Julian Ford, answer me!" His lips tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. "You know very well what you did." Averil laughed softly. "Victoria, I’m performing tonight. Since your reputation hasn’t been great lately, why not dance too? There are plenty of influential people here. Maybe someone will take an interest in you." I stared at Averil, my gaze unflinching until her smile faded. "Julian," she said, shrinking behind him. "Victoria looks so scary." Julian patted her hand, his eyes fixed on me. "Victoria, didn’t you want to cozy up to the right people? There are several entertainment executives here tonight. This is your chance. Why not make the most of it?" I took in a sharp breath, unable to recognize the man standing before me. I thought back to the year Julian first started his business. He was desperate for seed money, and without it, he would have missed a golden opportunity. I had secretly taken a job dancing at a nightclub to make quick cash, but when Julian found out, he’d rather sell his blood than let me expose myself like that. "You know how jealous I am," he had said back then. "I can’t stand the thought of any man looking at you, even for a second." He had loved me so fiercely back then. We spent nights wrapped in each other’s arms in that tiny, run-down apartment, finding joy in the simplest things—even sharing a single apple felt like a feast. And now? He seemed indifferent, almost eager, to push me toward other men. My voice came out dry and hoarse, barely recognizable. "Alright, as you wish." I pushed past the person blocking my way and headed toward a director I had once worked with. "Look, Victoria’s still limping. Could she really be injured?" "Ignore her. She’s faking it." Julian’s voice, filled with arrogance and disdain, blended seamlessly with the mocking laughter around me, creating a suffocating web of humiliation. I forced myself to reach the director, but before I could even greet him, he quickly stepped aside, avoiding me like the plague. I froze, knowing there was no point in asking. But I couldn’t accept it. I had always been known as one of the most hardworking dancers in the industry. My low-key and professional demeanor had earned me a solid reputation. So many people had once begged me for collaborations, making grand promises. I refused to believe that all my accomplishments could be completely erased by Julian’s words. I dragged my injured leg forward, lowering myself to approach others I recognized in the crowd. Yet every one of them avoided me as if I were poison. Some walked away the moment they spotted me, while others sided with Averil, mocking me openly. I swallowed my pride and endured every insult, but by the time I had exhausted every option in the vast banquet hall, I finally realized just how pathetic I had become. I was nothing more than a clown under the spotlight, put on display for everyone’s amusement. They couldn’t resist stepping on me, mocking me. And leading the charge was the man I had once believed I could entrust with my life. Julian looked at me, his expression grim. "Victoria, haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough?" Averil chimed in, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "Julian, Victoria is my senior after all. Why not just let it go?" He didn’t respond, but the tight furrow of his brows relaxed slightly. "Let it go? No way!" someone shouted deliberately. "A dancer daring to put on airs—if word gets out, won’t it tarnish Mr. Ford’s reputation?" "Exactly. Even if Mr. Ford doesn’t stoop to her level, she still needs to be taught a lesson. She has to learn what lines she shouldn’t cross." "Victoria, drink this glass of liquor, and we’ll consider giving you another chance," one of Julian’s lackeys said, shoving a full glass of vodka into my hand. "What do you all think?" The crowd erupted in enthusiastic agreement, their jeers echoing around me. I turned to Julian and asked, "Is this what you want?" Chapter 7 There were three steps between Julian and me. He didn’t move forward, and I had no desire to close the gap. I knew he was waiting for me to back down. In every argument we’d ever had, I was always the first to surrender—not because he was right, but because I couldn’t forget the salvation he’d given me during my darkest times. In front of him, I always felt a step lower, and I had been willing to tolerate his misplaced anger because of it. Even when he flirted with Averil time and time again, even when he bought her a house to keep her hidden away, I pretended not to see. But today, I couldn’t pretend anymore. I asked again, “Forcing me to drink as an apology—is that what you want?” Julian’s anger flashed across his face when I didn’t apologize as expected. "Yes, it is." I shook my head with a bitter smile, staring at the vodka swirling in the glass. He knew I was allergic to wine. Yet, to defend Averil, he was willing to push me this far. The boy who once couldn’t bear to see me get hurt had finally disappeared with time. Crack. It felt like I heard something shatter. It was the ten years I had shared with Julian. A phrase suddenly came to mind, “There’s no use crying over spilled milk.” “Fine.” I raised the glass and drank it all in one gulp, ignoring the hesitation flickering across Julian’s face. The sharp burn of wine scorched my throat, making me cough until my face flushed red. “Great drinking! Let’s pour her another glass!” Someone tried to refill my glass, but Julian barked, “That’s enough,” shoving them aside. Just as he took a step toward me, Averil latched onto his arm, stopping him in his tracks. "Julian," Averil said with a feigned tone of concern. "It seems like Victoria has shown enough sincerity. How about this? When I perform later, let her join me on stage." She smiled innocently at me, pretending to consider my feelings. "Of course, it might mean Victoria will have to take a supporting role as my backup dancer. What do you think?" "Not happening." The wine still burned in my stomach, and I could feel the heat rising rapidly under my skin. "Averil, that stage is going to be live-streamed, isn’t it? Do you really want to use it to step on me? Or is it that you don’t have any confidence in your own abilities and can only rely on cheap tricks like this to feel relevant?" After swallowing my pride for so long, I finally threw all caution aside, releasing my pent-up anger in one blow. Averil clung to Julian’s arm, swaying it back and forth. "Julian, explain this to her. Victoria must be misunderstanding me." Julian’s face darkened, and his voice carried nothing but disappointment. "Victoria, if you still want to dance, you’ll get up on that stage, whether you want to or not. With your position, you should feel lucky to be dancing alongside Averil." His words were a final ultimatum, shattering the last shred of affection I had left for him. "Julian Ford, what am I to you? A toy? A source of amusement? Or just a prop to make you and Averil look good together? This game of pleasing you—I’m done playing." I pulled off my wedding ring and hurled it back at him, watching as his face turned an ugly shade of blue. Then, in front of the stunned crowd, I took the divorce papers out of my handbag and scattered them at Julian’s feet. "Julian Ford, since you’re so eager to distance yourself from me, fine. As you wish. Sign these papers, and we’re done. From now on, we’re strangers. I wish you and Averil a lifetime together, and don’t ever show your faces in front of me again!"	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2,768,567	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2768041}'	Yes	2025-03-03 19:11	active	2791	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	"Where is she?" I hear the Beta scream. I groan and rise to my feet, grabbing the cleaning basket before heading over. The moment Beta Kyle sees me, he strides towards me and his hand slices against my cheek. I don't make a sound. Years of experience has taught me to keep my mouth shut at all times. "Alpha Trey and I are expecting company and you still have not cleaned the office." Beta Kyle spits at me. I nod my head and my hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If only I could find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make my day. But I didn't need another week locked up with no food. My stomach already hurt enough. "We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Don't you understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!" I don't answer, It's a trap, a ploy to provoke me into saying something that would justify punishment. I keep my eyes lowered, avoiding his gaze. Alpha Dane, I had only ever heard rumours about him. He was a ruthless man, a Wolf feared by others. He didn't mess around and he had the largest pack. "He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!" We had never been attacked and we had never attacked anyone, so why did we need another pack to help us? He grabs my shoulders, his nails digging into my skin as he turns me around and kicks me into the office. "Useless Wolf." He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean against it, observing the already clean office. It looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing my eyes, I slide down to the floor. I hated this house. I thought that when I turned eighteen, I could finally escape, but four years later, here I still am, a slave in my own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for my brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While my ex mate, Beta Kyle waltzes around reminding me of how worthless I am. Someone clears their throat and I freeze, I thought I was alone. Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair, just around the corner. A foot propped up on his knee as he nurses a glass of alcohol. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don't quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. "Is this the way you greet all Alphas?" His deep voice rumbles through the room, there was an edge of amusement to his tone. "I'm sorry." I whisper, getting to my feet. "I...I thought I was alone." I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. "Come forward." He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey wil kill me. I step around the corner, doing as I'm told, allowing him to see me properly. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. "You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?" I nod, though I couldn't tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. "I would prefer it if you spoke to me." He growls, "I'm not in the mood to play games." "Yes." I whisper. I couldn't help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? "Why do you smell strange? And how is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me." "I..." I hated the question. "You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. It's rude to not look at them. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?" His deep voice sends a shiver through me. Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them, there was no way I was making eye contact."My Wolf abilities were bound," I mutter. Twice, I wanted to add. Twice my abilities were bound. But he probably wasn't interested in that part. He leans forward, I could feel him staring at me, "Why would someone do that?" If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. "It was a punishment." I whisper. It wasn't far from the entire truth. There's a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn't tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me "Neah, what are you doing in my office?" He turns to the crimson eyed man. "I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it's him. My brother spins around, hand poised to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He is taller than my brother, more muscly too. "Neah," My name rolls off of his tongue, "was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested." What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. "Go and get Beta Kyle." Alpha Trey seethes. "Tell him our guest is here." I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. "Beta Kyle," I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. "Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you." He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. "You're lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't see sunlight for a few days." Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn't speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn't last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. "Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating." I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. "Neah is your sister, correct?" Alpha Dane questions my brother. "She is." Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. "Why do you treat her like trash?" Straight to the point, my brother wouldn't like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. "Neah was responsible for our parents' death." Alpha Trey spits I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Responsible how?" Alpha Dane's voice rumbles through me. He was definitely angry. "She served them Wolfsbane." Don't make a sound. Don't make a sound. I knew Alpha Dane was studying me. They all did, no one could ever quite believe how someone could do something so disgusting as poisoning their own parents. I stood there, with my head hanging low, wishing for the ground to open up and suck me in. There are movements around me. He was standing directly in front of me. With a rough finger he tilts my face up towards his, forcing me to look at him. "You poisoned your parents?" "I was six." I splutter. "I just made them lemonade." My voice comes out all squeaky as I try to defend myself. I could barely remember my parents, but I could remember all the guilt I had been made to feel since that day. His crimson eyes flash to my brothers. "Hardly seems fair to blame a six year old." "A six year old should know the difference between plants." Alpha Trey snaps "Sounds to me like she was set up." Alpha Dane shrugs his shoulders, letting go of me. "You weren't there, Alpha Dane." My brother muttered through gritted teeth as his eyes narrowed to slits. "I didn't ask you here to talk about my slave!" Alpha Dane grabs his leather jacket from the chair. Unlike other Alpha's he seemed to dress more casually. A simple black tee and jeans covered his huge frame. And unlike other Alpha's, his arms are bare of tattoos, not a single bit of ink poked out anywhere. "You're right and now I have a few things to mull over." "I thought we agreed." My brother exclaims "Nothing has been signed. Now I will show myself out." The moment he is out of the office, both my brother and Beta Kyle round on me. "What the heck did you say to him?" My brother demands, slamming a hand into my stomach. "N...nothing. Well, he just asked me why I smelled funny." "Did you tell him?" Beta Kyle demands. He was practically spitting in my face. I hated him. I hated him so much that I had vowed to one day get my revenge and rip his stomach out through his mouth. "WELL?" My brother yells when I don't immediately respond and smacks me across the side of the head. My head involuntarily moves up and down. "But I didn't say it was you." I tried to sound strong and confident but it just comes out as a whisper. My brother's hand locks into my black hair as he yanks my head back, sending a shooting pain through my skull. "If you have ruined this, you won't see daylight again." He drags me by my hair from the office and down the hallway towards the basement door. "Please…." I beg. "He was an Alpha…I… I had to answer him." My cheeks burn with my tears as he flings the door open. On the other side of the door is Alpha Dane. He is leaning against the wall with his arms folded, staring out at us. My brother's hand falls from my hair, relieving the pressure on the back of my skull... "Alpha Dane, I thought you had left." Alpha Trey murmurs angrily. "I said I would show myself out. I thought I had found the door, but instead I find a basement, riddled in your sister's strange scent. Is this how you treat your family?" "As I said," my brother holds his ground, "She is responsible for the death of my parents, so yes, this is what she deserves." "You should keep your nose out of other packs' business!" Beta Kyle adds. Alpha Dane laughs. "If I agree to this deal, everything about your business becomes my business. So tell me, what would your punishment be for her? No food, locked away for a week, beatings?" Both Alpha Trey and Beta Kyle hold their tongues. There was no reason for him to defend me and yet he was. I was a nobody, no one special. Just who everyone called a traitor. Only instead of being given a death sentence, my brother had decided to make me spend my life suffering. I see those crimson eyes land on my swollen face. "I have a proposition for you, Alpha Trey." Alpha Dane speaks up again. "We have already agreed on terms." "Well, I'm adding one. And if you don't agree, you will not get my help. Instead, you will become my enemy. And we both know, you don't want that." "I take it that your new terms have something to do with her?" Alpha Trey mutters through clenched teeth. "You would be correct. Let me take her away to my pack and then you, Trey will have a deal." Me? Why would he want me? As my brother and his Beta discuss me, Alpha Dane is still studying me. His look made me nervous. What could someone like him possibly want with me? "Deal." Alpha Trey sticks out his hand for Alpha Dane to shake. He doesn't take it, instead his crimson eyes shift from me to my brother. "I will have paperwork drawn up and will return tomorrow." He reaches a hand out and cups my face, "Ensure you have everything packed." He drags his thumb across my bottom lip and strides to the opposite end of the hallway and straight to the front door. He knew exactly where the front door was, so what was he up to? He pauses at the door. "If I find out any one of you has laid a hand on her. The contract will be the last thing you need to worry about." He struts out, slamming the door behind him. After Dane leaves, my brother grabs me by the collar. "You think you're going to have a good life if you follow Alpha Dane out of here? Don't be naive!" He continues in a vicious voice. "He's the coldest man in the world, he's killed nine of his mates, I'm waiting to see what happens to you!"	LEARN_MORE	https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&	New world publications	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	3,810	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/t39.35426-6/475320200_1116298026710139_3366114778382529830_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=eDjrbxouIJ8Q7kNvgHDMHrV&_nc_oc=AdifbYwB9px2QErYHiblssNZRASBQaxotF5A0c92haxd9ksBmFPR1zY0ueIuVT5rVS3yxG5-GXwVGpfjiTsQzcgb&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AF32acqEUCDLNxwY2Tvr_kn&oh=00_AYAproZXbP_aYNWf_QjsmfEYUWgzr2TRxaoJv4rcCrRTwg&oe=67CC2D92	PERSON_PROFILE	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,768,545	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2768596}'	Yes	2025-03-03 19:11	active	2791	🔥🔥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-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474883449_1760982124490533_5223011642269591362_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=PKHNx7FNGagQ7kNvgEP5JCQ&_nc_oc=AdhFPDwosAM9ZClweOHYTupTunC89a-bVwDYHpDOS1hzUpysvLE_J41qks5IHK7vSn-ClHaUC7rD4ENOGEq93XlA&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AHmPEKmaNsN1nmK0UUYQsqZ&oh=00_AYBzDIWdQFYioZttMHG9VkNSAqIhFo5gBKc4qPHp42b8Mw&oe=67CC12CE	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,767,889	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2768592}'	No	2025-03-03 19:09	active	2791	🔞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/	2,500	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-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476250374_1649384135695751_6186272217287035853_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iNJsWA4u0wgQ7kNvgFayOBB&_nc_oc=AdhIMvDqFCsiZURcKRKuodBMz2CRxel3qq6EoyTXTfqYhExqv8kqs7fEptC-s0vMEflQlsrC9OA_HieOs_Kti9iN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AyemybAZbIckd-Tb6XW-Nvl&oh=00_AYDqSwVfvVv1Btid5ElRSub9UEIsWl9mDn4KEZcp6UPh-w&oe=67CC2702	PERSON_PROFILE	Galaxy in the Story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,767,839	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 19:09	active	2791	Matric Farwell dress	🚨 Unlock All Channels with TV Streaming Device! amazing deal for you, unlimited access to all your favorite channels on any device. No more subscription fees or limited content - get it now and save money too! 👉GET HERE : https://www.easytechus.com/products/device	LEARN_MORE	https://www.easytechus.com/products/device	Waterproof Cosmetic Bag	https://www.facebook.com/61571830696664/	1	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	www.easytechus.com	VIDEO		https://www.easytechus.com/products/device	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476158375_1004729491516026_6926576126509356554_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=yMb_J9Y83GYQ7kNvgHqS8Io&_nc_oc=Adhrr-30rqMwZ4Rld755RIjy9TCgykm1EQ-Sz8xd0-AKi_ZtsqGaNPbNAId_mOfkJcXt4zoifm0fjaIPk7q5Rj7m&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AGua_hY8R1VIJMRW-AALcMY&oh=00_AYBDzMiTSDPLiHw__egUP68XKqzduIMRn50bdp1xAGXVxw&oe=67CC20B4	PERSON_PROFILE	Waterproof Cosmetic Bag	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,768,230	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2768116}'	No	2025-03-03 19:10	active	2791	😍Read the next chapters👉	In Merika State, the two of them lay close together on the hotel bed. As their passion grew, Justin Yates’s husky voice, filled with allure, murmured, “Em, how about having a child with me?” Caught up in the moment, Emily Yates replied without thinking. It wasn’t until they were lying together afterward that she remembered what he had said. “A child?” she repeated, a trace of intimacy lingering in her eyes. The look stirred Justin’s desire again. She was a constant temptation to him. Pushing those thoughts aside, he pulled out a ring and slipped it onto her left hand. “Are you proposing to me?” she asked. “Yes.” “Can I finally have your child now?” Justin asked, smiling. His eyes were warm, but there was no love in them, as if he were gazing past her, waiting for someone else’s answer. “I’ll give you plenty,” she replied, momentarily surprised. Proposing in bed wasn’t exactly romantic or formal, but she didn’t mind. She had waited three years for this moment, and it was worth it. Three years ago, she had been injured near the beach, hitting her head on a rock. When she woke up, she had no memory. Justin had saved her. The first thing she saw when she woke was his face, and one look left her captivated. Later, she learned that Justin had paid her hospital bills. She also learned of his identity. He was the CEO of RC Corporation. He proposed that she be his contract lover, and without hesitation, she agreed. They signed an agreement, defining their relationship, and he gave her the name Emily Yates. Yes, she was drawn to his looks. Despite their arrangement, the past three years felt like any other relationship. In the first year, she was a hidden lover. In the second, he introduced her as his girlfriend to his circle. Now, with three years approaching, he was proposing. Once she was part of his social circle, she heard whispers about a woman who had been his first love, someone he cherished deeply in college. She had disappeared without a trace, and he had been searching for her ever since. Over the years, Justin had lost hope she was still alive. That was why he finally proposed. Emily didn’t mind. Everyone has a past. Looking at the diamond ring on her left ring finger, she felt like it had all been worth it. The sound of running water came from the bathroom. Justin was showering. Calming down, Emily wrapped a towel around herself and got out of bed to pick up their scattered clothes. A soft clink echoed as something hit the floor. It was Justin’s cardholder. She bent down to pick it up, and a photo slipped out. It was old, with frayed edges, as if it had been looked at countless times. The woman in the photo looked like her but younger, just how she would have looked three years ago. Emily didn’t remember ever taking this photo, but she had lost her memory. Maybe she had forgotten. She was just about to put the cardholder back when a large, slender hand appeared, taking it from her. Justin emerged from the bathroom, his hair still damp and falling over his eyes, now tinged with a hint of displeasure. “Don’t touch my things,” he said coldly, his tone a sharp contrast to the intimacy they had just shared. Turning away from her, he put the cardholder back in his briefcase, his whole demeanor suddenly distant and guarded. Emily froze. Was he really getting defensive over a photo? She looked at him, confused. Wasn’t that her old picture? Before she could ask, Justin seemed to realize that his reaction had been out of line. He turned back and grasped her chin. With a playful glint in his eye, he ran his thumb over her still-swollen lips, toying with them. His voice was cool, devoid of warmth, but his words were deeply suggestive, clearly aiming to change the subject. “We’re going to be late for the art exhibit. If you rather stay here, I wouldn’t mind going another round.” Her cheeks flushed at his teasing, and she gently pushed him away. Her thoughts were scattered, and she quickly forgot about the photo. Justin had come to Merika State on business and had received an invitation to an art exhibition by Haley Quinn. He brought Emily along, planning to take her to the show once his work was done. Haley, a painter who had withdrawn from the public eye three years ago, rarely held exhibitions, making this one a rare event. Emily dressed quickly, while Justin had already changed into a fresh suit. The gallery was close to the hotel, so they walked there. Arm in arm, they strolled down the street, enjoying the perfect atmosphere. Just as Emily felt an overwhelming sense of happiness, Justin suddenly stopped. “Justin, what’s wrong?” She followed his gaze. Across the street, a disheveled woman, her clothes too dirty to recognize their original color, was recklessly crossing the traffic, oblivious to the danger. The woman pushed Emily aside and wrapped her arms tightly around Justin’s waist. She sobbed uncontrollably, gasping for air. “Justin, I finally found you. You came looking for me, didn’t you?” Emily stumbled from the shove, the bright sunlight momentarily blinding her. The woman looked eerily familiar. She resembled the one in the photo from the cardholder and, in a way, even looked like Emily herself. “Emma? Is that really you?” Justin’s voice trembled, his eyes locked onto the woman in his arms, as if afraid she might disappear again. Just moments ago, he had proposed to Emily. Now, right there in the street, he held another woman. He gently wiped away the woman’s tears with a tenderness so delicate, as if afraid of breaking something precious. “Yes, it’s me,” the woman sobbed, nodding desperately. Frail as she was, she clung to him. Justin was known for his fastidiousness and love of cleanliness, but he now held her tightly. He was soothing her with gentle words, as if she were a lost treasure he had finally recovered. He was afraid that even the slightest rough movement might hurt her. They seemed oblivious to everything around them, including Emily. Justin seemed to have forgotten Emily was still there. The woman in his arms had cried herself into unconsciousness. He took off his expensive jacket and draped it over her. He then slipped his arms under her knees and held her tightly as he carried her back toward the hotel. Emily stood there, feeling like an outsider. Her arm still ached from where she had been shoved, and she could still feel the warmth of Justin’s touch lingering around her waist. Just minutes ago, he had been tangled up with her in bed, proposing marriage. Now, he was leaving her in the middle of the street, carrying a woman who seemed to come out of nowhere. He had tossed aside his usual grace, holding this woman, who looked like a beggar, and rushed back to the hotel. The people around them pointed and whispered, like they were watching some sort of spectacle. Emily wanted to follow him, but her first step faltered. She steadied herself against a nearby building, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the window. Her flawless makeup now showed a hint of disarray. Chapter 2 Tears had fallen without her noticing, smudging the fresh makeup around her eyes. Emily glanced down at the diamond ring on her left hand, a sense of foreboding spreading through her. The sudden appearance of this woman might shatter the happiness she had been waiting for. She couldn’t just stand here. She had to know who this woman was. After a moment to gather herself, she headed back to the hotel. The plane flew from Merika State back to Haven State. At Lichfield Hospital, Emily stood at the door of a hospital room, arms crossed, trying to see inside through the window. Justin’s friend, Zac White, the director of Lichfield Hospital, along with other doctors, were examining the restless woman on the hospital bed. Two female nurses held her steady as they conducted their checks. On the plane, her face had already been cleaned, and she had been given fresh clothes. “Emma Xander? Hasn’t she... disappeared for the past four years?” Zac was shocked. Where had Justin found her? The Yates and White families had pulled every string they could to find Emma, but after four years with no trace, they had finally given up. And now, here she was. After completing their examination, the doctors and nurses left the room. A heavy silence fell over the space. A moment later, Justin’s voice seemed to echo from a distance as he gazed at the woman, now sound asleep after a sedative. “How is she doing?” “She’s malnourished, traumatized, and a bit disoriented, but otherwise fine. She just needs some time to recover.” Justin stood by her bedside, clearly prepared to stay with her. Zac hesitated, wanting to say something, but thought better of it and left the room. He opened the door to find Emily waiting outside. Feeling awkward for his friend, Zac adjusted his silver-framed glasses and greeted her with a polite smile. “Hi, Miss Yates.” Emily nodded in acknowledgment. “Dr. White, what’s her name? And what is her relationship with Justin?” she asked bluntly, desperate to know who this woman was. Zac hesitated, uncertain how to explain that Emma was Justin’s long-lost first love. This was his friend’s private matter, after all, and not his to reveal. Before he could find the words, Justin opened the door and saw them standing outside. He frowned, clearly displeased. “Didn’t I tell you to go home? Why are you still here?” Justin’s voice dripped with disdain and impatience, as if his irritation had taken on a life of its own. Emily stood her ground, unafraid. She needed answers. “You proposed to me in Merika State just 16 hours ago, but now you’re holding another woman and completely ignoring me. And you’re not even coming home? Staying out all night?” “Stop being unreasonable. Leave. Now,” he ordered, his voice cold and commanding, his gaze on her as though she were an unruly employee who had crossed the line. Seeing Justin’s dark expression, Zac stepped in, concerned that Emily might end up on the losing side of this argument. When Justin was angry, it rarely boded well for anyone. “It’s late. Let me arrange a car to take Miss Yates home,” Zac offered, trying to ease the tension. Emily, however, refused Zac’s offer. She wasn’t leaving without answers. “You think I’m being unreasonable? I’m your fiancée. You left me on the street in a foreign country to carry another woman away without a second thought. Did you ever consider how I felt? “I’ll go, but only if you leave the hospital with me. There are doctors and nurses here to care for that woman. Right now, you’re coming home with me.” Desperate, Emily reached out to grab Justin’s arm. But before she could make contact, her arm was blocked by Justin’s personal bodyguard, William Carter. Emily was stunned, unable to believe what she was seeing. It felt as though her heart was being torn in two. Justin had always been there for her, always caring, always the first to pick up her calls, no matter if he was in a meeting or on a business trip. If she ever needed him, he would show up immediately. If she couldn’t be reached, he would search the whole city until he found her. But now, with this woman in the hospital room, he wouldn’t even let her near him? “What do you mean by this?” Emily’s voice trembled, mirroring the unease in her heart. Justin didn’t respond. He stared at her with cold, detached eyes, as if she were a stranger and not the fiancée he had just proposed to. Time seemed to stretch, each second feeling like an eternity. Finally, he spoke, his words sharp and emotionless. “Don’t be childish.” Childish? Once, he had said he loved how she depended on him, how she claimed him for herself. And now he was calling her childish? “If you want to stay here with her, then what about our marriage? You proposed to me just today!” Emily’s heart ached, squeezing painfully in her chest. She knew it wasn’t the right moment to bring this up, but she couldn’t accept the idea that her future husband would spend the night in the hospital with another woman. Zac stood nearby, listening in shock. Marriage? Had Justin really proposed to Emily? And what about Emma in the hospital room? Justin glanced over his shoulder, worried that the woman asleep in the hospital bed might hear them and wake up. Emily noticed the concern in his eyes. It was an expression she had seen many times when he had worried about her. But now, that look was for someone else. He turned back to Emily, his voice still icy. “If you don’t want to get married, we can call it off. This isn’t the place for your drama. William, have the driver take her home.” He didn’t like being threatened, especially when it came to his marriage. Without another glance at her, he opened the door to the hospital room and went back inside. William stepped forward, maintaining his respectful tone. “Miss Yates, please don’t make this difficult for me. It’s time for you to go home.” Zac looked at Emily with sympathy. “Miss Yates, it’s late. Maybe it’s best to talk things over with Justin another time.” But how could they ever discuss this again? Her fiancé had just left her humiliated, choosing to stay with another woman without a care for her dignity. The hospital hallway lights felt harsh, blinding her with their brightness. Realizing that staying there made her look like a fool, Emily decided she wouldn’t let herself be a spectacle for others to watch. Clenching her purse tightly, Emily turned to leave. As she took a step, her vision blurred, and she nearly collapsed. Both Zac and William rushed to steady her, their grip gentlemanly but firm. “I’ll walk you to the car,” Zac offered. Leaning against the wall, Emily took a moment to steady herself, then shook her head. “I’m fine. I can get back on my own.” Her footsteps wobbled as she walked down the hallway, but she managed to keep her head high until she was out of their sight. After returning to the hospital room, Justin glanced down at Emma, who lay pale and frail on the bed. A strange weight settled in his chest, and the pervasive smell of antiseptic only added to his irritation. He tugged at his shirt collar, unbuttoning the top two buttons, but the air still felt suffocating. He stepped back out into the hallway, finding Zac and William waiting there. Emily was gone. “She left?” he asked, visibly more at ease now that she was no longer around. He didn’t want her disturbing Emma’s rest. “Yes, she’s gone,” Zac replied, hands in the pockets of his lab coat, nodding. With both of them standing there, Justin didn’t bother asking how Emily had left. “I’m stepping out for a break,” he said. Chapter 3 “So, Emma Xander’s back. What are you going to do?” Zac asked, breaking the silence. He didn’t mention Emily, but they both knew what he meant. One woman was the college sweetheart, the first love who had once saved Justin’s life. The other was the girlfriend who had been with him for three years, sharing his most intimate moments, and now, his fiancée. After a long pause, Justin replied, his voice cold and detached. “She was just a stand-in. She could never compare to Emma.” He went on, his tone utterly indifferent, as if he hadn’t been the one to propose to Emily in Merika State. “The role of Mrs. Yates will never be hers. It can only belong to Emma.” In a way, Emily had saved him the trouble of saying it himself when she had brought up their marriage in the hallway. Zac and Justin had been close friends since childhood, both growing up in privileged families, each carrying a bit of that self-centered mindset typical of their social circle. But this time, Zac couldn’t help feeling sorry for Emily. Emily, though an orphan with no family or wealth, was straightforward and honest. Over the past three years, she had complemented Justin perfectly, and in Zac’s eyes, they had seemed genuinely happy together. On the other hand, considering how long Emma had been abroad, it wasn’t hard to guess what she might have gone through. Zac didn’t care about things like V-card or a woman’s past, but he had always found Emma to be somewhat pretentious. Even back in college, she often disregarded Justin’s concerns, running off on her own without a second thought. After graduation, she mysteriously vanished during an overseas reunion party organized by a close group of alumni. Despite mobilizing every possible connection, they never found her. Even the police suggested they give up, implying that a young woman disappearing overseas was likely gone for good. At that time, Justin hadn’t fully taken over the company and wasn’t yet experienced in handling crises like these. Around the same time, his father, Henry Yates, was in a car accident and died despite emergency treatment. After the funeral, Justin was suddenly thrust into the dual responsibilities of inheriting the company and fending off his uncle, Harry Yates, who was trying to seize control. Thanks to his grandfather’s intervention, Justin managed to stabilize the corporation. By then, the critical window to find Emma had long passed, and any chance of finding her had all but disappeared. Zac clearly remembered how Justin had been consumed with frustration and self-blame during those days. And then Emily had come into his life, bringing him some peace. For that, Zac was truly grateful to her. “Emily’s been with you for three years,” Zac said, trying to speak up for her. “She’s an orphan, with no one else in the world. Isn’t it a bit cruel to treat her like this?” “Then I’ll keep her around,” Justin replied casually, brushing it off like it was no big deal. “But marriage? That’s not going to happen.” His tone was so offhanded, as if having another woman around didn’t matter at all. He didn’t see a problem with it. Keep her around? Really? Was he expecting her to stay hidden away as his stand-in lover, someone he kept out of sight? A mistress? A side piece? Emily didn’t leave the hospital right away. She sat on a bench behind the flower bed, letting the cold night air wash over her. She hadn’t expected to find out the truth like this. It turned out she was only here because she happened to look almost exactly like his lost one true love. And since she had lost her memory, he saw the perfect opportunity to mold her into the image of the woman he truly missed, hiding the truth from her and using her as a substitute. All the affection and indulgence he had shown her, it was never really for her. It was for the woman he had lost. Emma Xander. So that was her name, the one he had loved all his life. That was why he named her Emily, a name that allowed him to keep calling out for the one he had always loved. Even in their most intimate moments, he would call her “Em.” Whenever he whispered “Em” in that deep, seductive voice, full of passion, she would lose herself completely, sinking further into him. It turned out he was simply looking at her face and calling out another woman’s name all along. It dawned on her that the photo in Justin’s wallet must have been of Emma, not her. She had foolishly assumed the woman in that picture was herself. What a joke. From start to finish, Justin had shaped her into the image of his hidden love, his one true love. And she had naively believed that she had won him over, making him fall in love with her. In truth, she was nothing more than a piece in their story. Emily felt her heart plunge from a mountaintop to the depths of despair. She had gone from being a proud fiancée to a hidden stand-in, a shadow. She had liked, maybe even loved Justin. But her pride couldn’t accept that she had been someone else’s replacement all along, or that she was now the secret other woman. Resolved to leave, she felt a small sense of relief that Justin had only proposed. They weren’t married yet, and breaking up would be far easier than going through a divorce. For a moment, she felt grateful for Emma’s sudden appearance. “Miss Yates, where are you?” the driver called, stepping out of the car after waiting a while. “I’m here.” Emily pulled herself from her thoughts, putting on her usual calm expression. “Is it just you? Where’s Mr. Yates?” he asked. “He’s not coming back.” Emily rose from the bench by the flower bed and walked back to the car with the driver. She wore a cream-colored, knee-length dress in a sweet, innocent style. As an artist, she was open to trying any look, but it was Justin who had said he liked this style. So, for the past three years, she had dressed this way for him. The spring breeze brushed her bare calves, sending a chill through her. Zac looked a bit uncomfortable, “Emily didn’t leave?” So, she had heard everything they had said. Justin’s tone was just as indifferent, cold, and unfeeling. “Good. Let her hear it. She needs to know her place and avoid causing any more scenes like tonight.” With that, he turned and walked away from the garden, completely unfazed by the fact that Emily had overheard him. Emily sat quietly during the ride back to Villa One. Mrs. Zimmer greeted her at the door, her face lighting up warmly after a few days apart. “You’re back! It must’ve been tiring, traveling with Mr. Yates.” Emily nodded wearily, barely acknowledging her. “Yes.” “Where’s Mr. Yates?” Mrs. Zimmer glanced behind her, looking for Justin. “He won’t be back tonight.” Emily’s voice was detached, as if his return made no difference to her. Mrs. Zimmer looked slightly disappointed at first, but then her face lit up with a knowing smile, the kind that came from having seen a lot in life. She took Emily’s suitcase and gently urged her to go get some rest in the bedroom. Once inside, Emily understood Mrs. Zimmer’s smile. The room was dimly lit, with candles arranged at various heights, casting a soft, romantic glow. Flowers and scented candles adorned the surfaces, and a bottle of champagne sat open on the table. Even the usual heavy gray curtains had been replaced with delicate lace, adding an air of intimacy. The bed was covered in thick rose petals, the entire room transformed into a romantic setting. Clearly, this had been Justin’s arrangement before their trip. Exhausted, Emily didn’t have the energy to clean up, and it was too late to bother Mrs. Zimmer. Chapter 4 Emily found the remote to turn on the lights, then looked for something handy to snuff out each candle one by one. Afterward, she retrieved her nightgown from the closet and headed for a shower. As she walked into the bathroom, she noticed the ring still on her left hand. She slipped it off and tossed it into the corner of her jewelry box. When she returned to the bedroom, she brushed all the rose petals off the bed and settled under the covers, pulling them over her head. She instinctively lay on the left side of the bed, where she was used to sleeping. Justin would always hold her close, gradually shifting over to the left with her until they were practically glued together. Now, the right side of the bed was glaringly empty. To fill the space, she scooted to the center, tossing the extra pillow onto the floor, finally feeling comfortable. She turned off the lights and went to sleep. Two days passed without any word from Justin. He was likely at the hospital with Emma or busy with work. Emily didn’t care and hadn’t reached out, maintaining a complete radio silence. The morning sun was bright, and the spring breeze was warm as she lounged on a deck chair in the villa’s garden, enjoying a face mask. Her mind wandered to practical matters. She had spent some time reviewing the contract she signed three years ago to be Justin’s “contract lover.” It was set to expire automatically after three years, which was now less than four months away. When it ended, she would receive a payout of twenty million. Between that, and the allowance and holiday bonuses he had given her over the years, she had saved nearly six million. She had barely spent any of it, so it was all tucked away. It seemed she would be in decent shape financially, and finding a job after leaving wouldn’t be too hard. As for a place to live, she could buy a similarly sized home, and maybe invite Helen to move in as a roommate. It would be nice to have company. She did regret not being able to take Mrs. Zimmer with her. If she could, it would be perfect. The phone on the coffee table buzzed, interrupting her thoughts. Emily picked it up, unlocked it with her fingerprint, and a new message notification popped up at the top of the screen. She tapped to open it. It was from her friend, Helen Walker. They had met a year ago while shopping, when Helen insisted on becoming friends after seeing her just once. With no memory of any past friendships, Emily had found Helen easy to talk to, and they had gradually become close. “How was your time in Merika State? When are you coming back?” Helen had attached a mischievous emoji with a smirk. “I’m already back.” “Already? That was quick.” “I thought Justin looked strong. Guess he didn’t last long? Not up to it?” “Not just ‘not up to it’. He can’t even get started.” Emily replied, seizing the chance to curse him. On the other end, Helen raised an eyebrow. It looked like Justin had managed to tick off her friend. But she wasn’t too concerned as they had argued before. Couples fought, and it usually blew over. “Perfect timing then. I’m heading to the TC Mall in a bit to stock up on some new clothes. Let’s hit the mall together and grab some food afterward. Get ready and meet me there.” “Sounds good. I’ll see you at the mall.” Emily agreed readily. She had spent the past couple of days clearing out the sweet, youthful clothes she didn’t like. Her wardrobe could use a refresh. She put down the phone and washed off her face mask. Glancing at the nearly empty wardrobe, she picked out a casual athletic outfit and did a quick, simple makeup look. Fresh and tidy, she got ready to head out. “Mrs. Zimmer, I’m meeting a friend to go shopping. I’ll have lunch out,” Emily said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Alright, Miss Yates. Will you be back for dinner?” Mrs. Zimmer, who was supervising the housekeeper’s cleaning, looked up to ask. Emily paused while slipping on her shoes, thinking about how unpredictable Helen could be and that they hadn’t seen each other in a while. She might not be back for dinner. “Not sure yet. I’ll text you later if I’ll be back in time.” “Understood.” As Emily opened the door, she found Justin’s assistant, Sam Spencer, just about to knock. “Hi, Sam,” she greeted him coolly, planning to step around him to leave. “Hi, Miss Yates. Mr. Yates has a flight out of town this afternoon for a business trip. Could I trouble you to help pack his things before you go?” Sam’s tone was respectful, as usual. Emily didn’t move. “Mrs. Zimmer, Justin’s going on a trip. Could you please help with his packing?” “Miss Yates, this…?” Sam’s face showed confusion. “What? Before I came along, didn’t Justin have someone to handle his luggage?” Her expression was calm, her tone light. “Of course. You’re absolutely right, Miss Yates,” Sam replied, beads of sweat forming as he carefully balanced his response, not daring to offend either side. In the past, Emily had always packed for Justin’s business trips. She had done it so many times that she knew exactly what he would need for any occasion. But now, she had no desire to continue. He had used her as a stand-in, and every time he watched her pack his bags, he must have thought she looked foolish. Three years. Now that she thought back, there had been plenty of strange looks and behaviors from Justin that she hadn’t picked up on. She had been utterly blind. But she wouldn’t be foolish anymore. Emily was ready to leave, but Sam was blocking the door, preventing her from going. She urged Mrs. Zimmer to hurry with the packing. Mrs. Zimmer quickly filled the suitcase and handed it to Sam, who was waiting in the living room. He glanced at his watch. Ten minutes had barely passed. That was fast. "Mrs. Zimmer, are you sure it’s all packed? Should we check to make sure nothing’s missing?" he asked cautiously. Emily replied without emotion, “Isn’t the flight at noon? If you keep dragging your feet, he’ll miss it. Besides, anything he needs can be bought over there.” She checked her watch, starting to feel a bit pressed for time. If she delayed much longer, Helen would end up waiting impatiently, and they would miss out on shopping before lunch. And who wanted to try on clothes with a full stomach? “Of course, Miss Yates. I’ll head over to the office to pick up Mr. Yates,” Sam said with a polite smile, making his way out. Emily nodded and headed down to the garage. She chose a white luxury car and drove off. Meanwhile, Sam took the suitcase to the sleek black car parked discreetly by the curb. He placed it in the trunk, then settled into the front passenger seat. The driver, Justin’s bodyguard, William, started the car. But instead of heading to the airport, they were bound for Lichfield Hospital. “How much longer until Emily’s contract is up?” Justin’s voice was calm and emotionless, as if he were discussing a routine business matter. Sam immediately understood that the question was directed at him. He quickly recalled the contract details. “Less than four months, Mr. Yates.” “Draft a new agreement and deliver it to her when the time comes,” Justin instructed. Keeping her around for three years had cost him little, and continuing to support her wasn’t an issue. But he was done with her. He wouldn’t touch her again or return to Villa One. Recalling the scene from the hospital hallway two nights ago, he added without hesitation, “Include a clause that ensures she never shows up in front of Emma again.” Sam was momentarily taken aback but quickly regained his professional composure. “Understood, Mr. Yates.” Chapter 5 People said billionaires were cold and indifferent in their personal lives, switching women as easily as they changed clothes. For the past three years, Mr. Yates had only been with Miss Yates, making him seem like a devoted man. But it looked like he could move on in an instant. Who knew how long Miss Xander would last by his side? Sam had joined the company three years ago, right when Justin took over RC Corporation, so he wasn’t familiar with the complicated history between Emma and Justin. Inside TC Mall, Emily was browsing through clothes, each piece a far cry from her usual sweet and innocent style. “Babe, switching things up?” Helen asked, watching as Emily picked up a long black dress with a slitted hem. It would look stunning on Emily’s curves. Emily held the dress up to herself in the mirror, unfazed. “Yep, time for a change. Do you think this would look better with a shawl or a jacket?” She turned to give Helen a look. “A shawl, definitely. It’ll highlight your figure beautifully,” Helen replied with her usual style advice. “That’s what I thought too.” Helen eyed the dress. “That dress is so feminine. Will your guy even let you wear it out? Doesn’t Justin only let you wear those sweet, innocent schoolgirl outfits?” Helen couldn’t help but mentally criticize Justin’s taste. What kind of fashion sense did he have anyway? A multinational CEO, a man with a grip on the Haven State economy, yet he liked her to dress like a schoolgirl. “His taste doesn’t matter anymore. It’s not something I’m concerned about,” Emily replied casually, completely indifferent. She handed the dress to a fitting assistant with a similar build, having her try it on for her. High-end stores like this one often had staff who modeled the clothes for clients, so she didn’t have to try them on herself. Emily picked out a few more items in different styles for the assistant to model. If she liked them, she would buy them. When she was satisfied with her choices, she scanned her card and paid, then filled out the delivery details for Villa One. The clothes would be sent straight there. After they had finished shopping, they went for lunch. With no one else around, Emily finally shared her situation with Helen that she had been Justin’s stand-in for his one true love. Now that his true love had returned, she was planning to leave him. “That despicable man!” Helen burst out, her emotions flaring. “Keep it down.” Emily quickly covered Helen’s mouth and glanced around to see if anyone at nearby tables was paying attention to them. Helen lowered her voice but was still fuming. “Justin might look put-together, but he’s not even half a man. His first love disappears, so he goes and finds a stand-in? “Why didn’t he just get plastic surgery to look like her? Then he could see her every time he looked in the mirror. “Good for you for walking away. You should break up with him. No! Just breaking up is too good for that pompous human garbage! You need to dump him into the sewers!” LMAO, where did Helen even learn these insults from? Just then, the server brought out a tray with seasoned meats, fresh vegetables, and a variety of salsas. Emily began assembling her own tacos, adding the toppings she liked best. “The contract’s up in four months. I’m planning to buy a place.” “What for? Just stay with me. I’ve got a room for you.” “My address is still tied to Justin’s place. Since I’ve decided to leave, I need a clean break. I’ll need my own place to change everything over,” Emily explained, outlining her plan. Her heart felt numb now, no longer as raw as it had been the night she’d learned the truth in the hospital garden. “Then you can cancel your lease and move in with me! We’ll be family!" Emily suggested excitedly. Helen suppressed the impulse to tell Emily that they were already family. Given Emily's amnesia, she didn’t want to overwhelm her with too much information all at once. Instead, she nodded. “Alright, I’ll move in with you. I’ll start looking around for a place for you. Actually the place I rent now is quite nice. The location and neighborhood are perfect. I’ll check if the landlord’s interested in selling, though it’s a resale property.” “I don’t care if it’s new or used. As long as it’s clean and ready to go, I’m good.” Emily didn’t need much. After leaving the cushy life she had been used to, she was perfectly fine doing things on her own. She found the independence kind of refreshing. After lunch, they picked up some accessories to go with the new outfits, light enough to carry back on her own. Emily said goodbye to Helen and drove back to Villa One. By the time she got back, the clothes she had bought that morning had already been delivered, ironed, and neatly hung in the walk-in closet by the house staff. She hadn’t bought much, just enough to last the next few months and to keep the move as hassle-free as possible. The women’s side of the closet was nearly empty, with only a few of her favorite pieces hanging. She grabbed a new loungewear set to change into and happened to glance over at the men’s side, packed with Justin’s clothes. Emily didn’t linger. She strode past it without a second thought. As she was heading to the bathroom, her phone rang from the sofa. She put down the clothes and picked up the call. “Hello, is this Miss Yates?” “Yes, this is.” “I’m a nurse from Lichfield Hospital. Your health screening results are in. When would be a convenient time for you to come pick them up?” Emily remembered that Justin had taken her for a checkup just before their trip to Merika State. She had forgotten all about it until this call. “I’ll come by tomorrow morning.” “Very well. Have a nice day.” The next day, Emily went to Lichfield Hospital. “Plan to have a baby?” “That’s right. Mr. Yates specifically requested it during his screening. Your health is excellent, Miss Yates. Your ovulation cycle is regular, so we recommend folic acid, Vitamin B1, and plenty of protein. With the right timing and frequency, you should be expecting good news soon.” The doctor adjusted his glasses and smiled warmly. Emily’s fingers tightened around the report, a heavy feeling settling in her chest. She had been trying hard not to think about Justin lately, but this report hit her unexpectedly hard. “Miss Yates, I’ll prescribe you two boxes of folic acid and Vitamin B1. Be sure to take them regularly.” Emily interrupted him, finding an excuse to refuse. “Thanks, doctor, but that won’t be necessary. I’ll get them on my own.” The doctor wasn’t surprised. Wealthy women like her often had access to premium brands from various sources, so declining hospital-prescribed supplements wasn’t unusual. Emily left the hospital in a daze, only coming to her senses when she reached a sunny spot outside. She tossed the health report into the trash bin. With Emma back, Justin clearly had no intention of having children with her. And she certainly didn’t want to give him one, either. It was easier to pretend she didn’t know what the checkup had really been for. Meanwhile, in the hospital’s garden, the spring sunlight was warm and gentle. Justin was pushing Emma’s wheelchair, letting her enjoy the sunshine. “Justin, you’re busy with work. You don’t have to be here with me all the time. I can manage on my own,” Emma said, her voice soft and considerate. “Focus on getting better. Don’t worry about anything else.” Justin felt a deep guilt about Emma’s disappearance, blaming himself for not protecting her better. He believed his negligence had allowed her to be taken and vanish without a trace. Over the past few days, he had tried to gather clues from her about what happened, but whenever he brought it up, she would break down, unable to share any details. Emily hadn’t expected to see Justin at the hospital. Hadn’t Sam said Justin was out of town on a business trip?	LEARN_MORE	https://www.lzwnyvvd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	375	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	www.lzwnyvvd.com	VIDEO		https://www.lzwnyvvd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18085&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/t39.35426-6/476633705_9417965581576257_8702045025725440663_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=196OKmHYsXkQ7kNvgH7H66H&_nc_oc=AdjA4acGQql9CJ-YUl1CgaSSGmdPzcL0X00pZHDwrkWKxz1xJQrdCBm_xa5YBjmgRk3UevqcAc4wFAXqa8bRog3L&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A6ntQ6xF2ZKxlX-DDGX1Ld-&oh=00_AYD5JZpKQMKbqsHvcg1YGIin3t1f7EdVOyvJaSJtIkLeDQ&oe=67CC331C	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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