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2,726,165	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-02 01:48	active	2672	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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2,726,395	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2726382}'	No	2025-03-02 01:48	active	2672	😍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!"	LEARN_MORE	https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	374	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	www.qknymufd.com	VIDEO		https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=17636&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/t39.35426-6/474482820_910632574572152_6586786659646577058_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=TZxt0gy_zLUQ7kNvgGA8nz_&_nc_oc=AdijZGk_7EsPVRvwPlYHYLoG_v3KwcmvjAVvdSa_sQdLOmvSSLRiz4F47RkOl9tHLl5Re3QugZs87i50sXQiFyDc&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A-J-xzBqK07mNmsJUvDlUk-&oh=00_AYADPb0WcdFTg64Mwe8eHRxOYXa_624ybG_Xttkt8Cc2aQ&oe=67C9C40B	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,725,658	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-02 01:48	active	2672	Chronic Overthinking Test 👉	✨️️️️️️️ Stop overthinking and start living today ✨️️️️️️️ 🎯 Boost confidence: Develop strategies for better decision making and self-esteem 💫 Eliminate negative thoughts: Learn how to identify and reduce toxic thought patterns ⌛ Live in the present moment: Become calm, happy, and trust your intuition	LEARN_MORE	https://mindway.app/start?qz=mw1&locale=EN_US	Mindway	https://www.facebook.com/61555945144541/	19,635	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	mindway.app	VIDEO		https://mindway.app/start?qz=mw1&locale=EN_US	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469807822_603739382299377_3761972540267461300_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dMCOG_5wqo0Q7kNvgGyWrH0&_nc_oc=AdjSBx_YlDN3LHImvv36dlcb_NmEJCqZMrz9rDw0SB2NpZU5OV-_ZLLj6Qpb3fxs8ZP_r9zwSdbeXaAdVEzVDx4S&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AA_eML4xwIyap2ok89MfUZc&oh=00_AYAOQuV8nhUDMvzJjvJ2zBze1fbT8GJa3fPku82iFXG4nw&oe=67C9E93E	PERSON_PROFILE	Mindway	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,726,018	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2726016}'	Yes	2025-03-02 01:48	active	2672	❤😍check out 👉The Alpha’s Contract, and dive into a world full of wolves, drama, and epic twists. 🔥	"Where is she?" I hear the Beta scream. I groan and rise to my feet, grabbing the cleaning basket before heading over. The moment Beta Kyle sees me, he strides towards me and his hand slices against my cheek. I don't make a sound. Years of experience has taught me to keep my mouth shut at all times. "Alpha Trey and I are expecting company and you still have not cleaned the office." Beta Kyle spits at me. I nod my head and my hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If only I could find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make my day. But I didn't need another week locked up with no food. My stomach already hurt enough. "We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Don't you understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!" I don't answer, It's a trap, a ploy to provoke me into saying something that would justify punishment. I keep my eyes lowered, avoiding his gaze. Alpha Dane, I had only ever heard rumours about him. He was a ruthless man, a Wolf feared by others. He didn't mess around and he had the largest pack. "He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!" We had never been attacked and we had never attacked anyone, so why did we need another pack to help us? He grabs my shoulders, his nails digging into my skin as he turns me around and kicks me into the office. "Useless Wolf." He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean against it, observing the already clean office. It looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing my eyes, I slide down to the floor. I hated this house. I thought that when I turned eighteen, I could finally escape, but four years later, here I still am, a slave in my own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for my brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While my ex mate, Beta Kyle waltzes around reminding me of how worthless I am. Someone clears their throat and I freeze, I thought I was alone. Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair, just around the corner. A foot propped up on his knee as he nurses a glass of alcohol. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don't quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. "Is this the way you greet all Alphas?" His deep voice rumbles through the room, there was an edge of amusement to his tone. "I'm sorry." I whisper, getting to my feet. "I...I thought I was alone." I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. "Come forward." He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey wil kill me. I step around the corner, doing as I'm told, allowing him to see me properly. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. "You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?" I nod, though I couldn't tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. "I would prefer it if you spoke to me." He growls, "I'm not in the mood to play games." "Yes." I whisper. I couldn't help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? "Why do you smell strange? And how is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me." "I..." I hated the question. "You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. It's rude to not look at them. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?" His deep voice sends a shiver through me. Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them, there was no way I was making eye contact."My Wolf abilities were bound," I mutter. Twice, I wanted to add. Twice my abilities were bound. But he probably wasn't interested in that part. He leans forward, I could feel him staring at me, "Why would someone do that?" If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. "It was a punishment." I whisper. It wasn't far from the entire truth. There's a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn't tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me "Neah, what are you doing in my office?" He turns to the crimson eyed man. "I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it's him. My brother spins around, hand poised to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He is taller than my brother, more muscly too. "Neah," My name rolls off of his tongue, "was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested." What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. "Go and get Beta Kyle." Alpha Trey seethes. "Tell him our guest is here." I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. "Beta Kyle," I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. "Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you." He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. "You're lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't see sunlight for a few days." Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn't speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn't last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. "Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating." I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. "Neah is your sister, correct?" Alpha Dane questions my brother. "She is." Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. "Why do you treat her like trash?" Straight to the point, my brother wouldn't like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. "Neah was responsible for our parents' death." Alpha Trey spits I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Responsible how?" Alpha Dane's voice rumbles through me. He was definitely angry. "She served them Wolfsbane." Don't make a sound. Don't make a sound. I knew Alpha Dane was studying me. They all did, no one could ever quite believe how someone could do something so disgusting as poisoning their own parents. I stood there, with my head hanging low, wishing for the ground to open up and suck me in. There are movements around me. He was standing directly in front of me. With a rough finger he tilts my face up towards his, forcing me to look at him. "You poisoned your parents?" "I was six." I splutter. "I just made them lemonade." My voice comes out all squeaky as I try to defend myself. I could barely remember my parents, but I could remember all the guilt I had been made to feel since that day. His crimson eyes flash to my brothers. "Hardly seems fair to blame a six year old." "A six year old should know the difference between plants." Alpha Trey snaps "Sounds to me like she was set up." Alpha Dane shrugs his shoulders, letting go of me. "You weren't there, Alpha Dane." My brother muttered through gritted teeth as his eyes narrowed to slits. "I didn't ask you here to talk about my slave!" Alpha Dane grabs his leather jacket from the chair. Unlike other Alpha's he seemed to dress more casually. A simple black tee and jeans covered his huge frame. And unlike other Alpha's, his arms are bare of tattoos, not a single bit of ink poked out anywhere. "You're right and now I have a few things to mull over." "I thought we agreed." My brother exclaims "Nothing has been signed. Now I will show myself out." The moment he is out of the office, both my brother and Beta Kyle round on me. "What the heck did you say to him?" My brother demands, slamming a hand into my stomach. "N...nothing. Well, he just asked me why I smelled funny." "Did you tell him?" Beta Kyle demands. He was practically spitting in my face. I hated him. I hated him so much that I had vowed to one day get my revenge and rip his stomach out through his mouth. "WELL?" My brother yells when I don't immediately respond and smacks me across the side of the head. My head involuntarily moves up and down. "But I didn't say it was you." I tried to sound strong and confident but it just comes out as a whisper. My brother's hand locks into my black hair as he yanks my head back, sending a shooting pain through my skull. "If you have ruined this, you won't see daylight again." He drags me by my hair from the office and down the hallway towards the basement door. "Please…." I beg. "He was an Alpha…I… I had to answer him." My cheeks burn with my tears as he flings the door open. On the other side of the door is Alpha Dane. He is leaning against the wall with his arms folded, staring out at us. My brother's hand falls from my hair, relieving the pressure on the back of my skull... "Alpha Dane, I thought you had left." Alpha Trey murmurs angrily. "I said I would show myself out. I thought I had found the door, but instead I find a basement, riddled in your sister's strange scent. Is this how you treat your family?" "As I said," my brother holds his ground, "She is responsible for the death of my parents, so yes, this is what she deserves." "You should keep your nose out of other packs' business!" Beta Kyle adds. Alpha Dane laughs. "If I agree to this deal, everything about your business becomes my business. So tell me, what would your punishment be for her? No food, locked away for a week, beatings?" Both Alpha Trey and Beta Kyle hold their tongues. There was no reason for him to defend me and yet he was. I was a nobody, no one special. Just who everyone called a traitor. Only instead of being given a death sentence, my brother had decided to make me spend my life suffering. I see those crimson eyes land on my swollen face. "I have a proposition for you, Alpha Trey." Alpha Dane speaks up again. "We have already agreed on terms." "Well, I'm adding one. And if you don't agree, you will not get my help. Instead, you will become my enemy. And we both know, you don't want that." "I take it that your new terms have something to do with her?" Alpha Trey mutters through clenched teeth. "You would be correct. Let me take her away to my pack and then you, Trey will have a deal." Me? Why would he want me? As my brother and his Beta discuss me, Alpha Dane is still studying me. His look made me nervous. What could someone like him possibly want with me? "Deal." Alpha Trey sticks out his hand for Alpha Dane to shake. He doesn't take it, instead his crimson eyes shift from me to my brother. "I will have paperwork drawn up and will return tomorrow." He reaches a hand out and cups my face, "Ensure you have everything packed." He drags his thumb across my bottom lip and strides to the opposite end of the hallway and straight to the front door. He knew exactly where the front door was, so what was he up to? He pauses at the door. "If I find out any one of you has laid a hand on her. The contract will be the last thing you need to worry about." He struts out, slamming the door behind him. After Dane leaves, my brother grabs me by the collar. "You think you're going to have a good life if you follow Alpha Dane out of here? Don't be naive!" He continues in a vicious voice. "He's the coldest man in the world, he's killed nine of his mates, I'm waiting to see what happens to you!"	LEARN_MORE	https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&	New world publications	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	3,809	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	wwwedb.com	VIDEO	At six years old, I accidentally killed my parents. For the punishment I, an alpha female, became a slave in my own house.. My wolf's abilities were bounded, twice—a crippling blow that left me vulnerable. As if I were nothing more than property, my brother sold me to a ruthless alpha as part of some clan contract. The rumour I've heard about him that nine fiancee has been killed by him. Then, I discovered that this ruthless alpha, the one who now owned me, was my mate ...	https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480759216_934722458854823_5179505591465761602_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=8Xt2ZbxHnZIQ7kNvgGdzLjd&_nc_oc=Adg7Vi3K_0uAYgnYwJvk-nzR_mQraDGoOXEEI-Ll6vTInAOxhhrKwcxVoivBRt2gq2wsRINhbxKAj2v8YiCTKrZC&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AatBnKhkwiYzGb48GeNAHvW&oh=00_AYD_UIrc2WpQHNnSXH3BVjUNtOGzpO0HDDjlzlCRENGIOw&oe=67C9EDED	PERSON_PROFILE	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,725,794	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2725733}'	Yes	2025-03-02 01:48	active	2672	😍Read the next chapters👉	After signing the agreement, Isabella Jones stepped out and happened to catch a live interview with Samuel Grant on the news. The host asked, "Mr. Grant, you're so young and accomplished. What's your secret to success?" Samuel raised his left hand and pointed to the wedding ring on his ring finger. "The secret is simple. I have a wonderful wife." The host blinked in surprise. "Oh? I thought you'd share some insights about the industry and your future plans instead." "That's not important. All the wealth I have right now doesn't compare to even a single strand of my wife's hair." "Wow, I really envy your wife…" On the screen, Samuel glanced at his watch, then smiled at the camera. "Sorry, we'll have to pause the interview for a moment. Time's almost up. I'd like to use this live broadcast to say something to my wife." "Of course, Mr. Grant. Go ahead." Samuel's voice softened. "Bella, I just had someone bring you some ginger tea with honey. It should be arriving soon. Drink it and get some good rest. I'll give you a massage when I get home." Around her, a few young women gathered, watching the live broadcast on the big screen. They couldn't help but murmur in envy. "Who is Mr. Grant's wife? To have a man like him so completely devoted…" "That's so sweet! He dotes on her so much! Ugh, I'm so jealous!" The sound of admiring voices filled Isabella's ears. Yet, the person in question remained silent, smiling mockingly. Everyone thought she was the lucky one, that in a past life, she must have saved the entire galaxy to have married a man like Samuel. She used to think so too. But no one knew that Samuel had another woman on the side. They had been married for five years, and for four and a half of them, Samuel had been seeing this other woman. Every time he said he was on a business trip, he was really with her, indulging in passion and unrestrained affection. Isabella still remembered the first time she had seen those videos. Her heart felt like it had been pierced a thousand times with needles—pulled out and stabbed again and again. By the end, it was shattered and broken beyond repair. She also remembered when she was bullied in school. Samuel had stepped in, shielding her from the torment and fiercely teaching the bullies a lesson. He had told her, "Don't be afraid. I'll protect you from now on." There was another time, when they were driving, and an out-of-control truck came barreling toward them. Samuel's first instinct was to throw himself in front of her, shielding her with his own body. He ended up in the hospital for over six months, barely surviving, almost becoming a vegetable. When he finally woke up, his first words were to ask the nurse, "Is Bella okay?" When the nurse confirmed she was fine, he let out a sigh of relief and said, "As long as Bella is fine, it doesn't matter what happens to me." That was the moment Isabella truly fell in love with him—the man who would risk his life to protect hers. She didn't understand it. How could Samuel claim to love her while shamelessly sleeping with another woman? Was it true that men could separate love from desire? Isabella gently touched the wedding ring on her finger before taking it off. She walked past a disabled beggar sitting by the roadside, his empty tin cup containing only a few coins. Isabella approached him and dropped the ring into his cup. "Sell this. The money from it will be enough to buy a house and start a small business." The beggar thanked her repeatedly. In truth, Isabella had put it rather mildly. The ring was a custom design by a foreign jeweler, and the diamonds alone were worth millions. But now, she didn't want it anymore. If a wedding ring symbolized love and loyalty, then her wedding ring was worth nothing right now. Her phone rang—it was Samuel. "Bella, where are you? The person with the ginger tea and honey came to the house, but you weren't there." His voice was urgent, like he was genuinely worried about her. Isabella replied flatly, "I just stepped out for a walk." "Where are you now? I'll come pick you up right away." "No need, I'll be home soon." "No, you're on your period. I can't just leave you alone." Samuel arrived within five minutes. He rushed out of the car, quickly removed his coat, and draped it over her shoulders before pulling her into his arms. "Why are you dressed so lightly? You can't get cold when you're on your period." As Isabella looked up at him in his embrace, she noticed several fresh, red marks around his throat. They were recent. There were also teeth imprints. His clothes smelled faintly of a woman's perfume. So, he had just left Jennifer Lewis's bed before heading to the interview. As Samuel gently rubbed her fingers, he suddenly exclaimed in surprise, "Bella, where's your wedding ring?" Chapter 2 Isabella pulled her hand out of Samuel's grasp. "Maybe I lost it when I left the house this morning." Samuel immediately reached for his phone to dial a number. "I'll have someone go look for it right now." Isabella shook her head. "No need. Just consider it lost." "How can you just let it go? This ring is our wedding ring—it's proof of our love." Proof of their love? Their love had already been shattered beyond recognition by his countless betrayals. Isabella laughed softly. "It's just a piece of jewelry. It doesn't guarantee love." Samuel insisted, "Diamonds are the hardest thing on Earth. It represents my unchanging heart for you." "And what if one day, you betray me?" "That's impossible." "I'm asking, what if?" Samuel looked at her, his gaze sincere, even solemn. He swore, "If I ever betray you, let me be pierced by a thousand arrows and die a painful death." Isabella turned her face away, not wanting to see the fake earnesty in his eyes. Back when she still loved him, hearing him make such an earnest vow would've made her rush to cover his mouth, worried that she was pushing him too far, forcing him to swear like that. But now, she didn't love him anymore, and his words only sounded like a joke. "Bella." Samuel wrapped his arms around her from behind, his voice tinged with a hint of complaint. "Why do I feel like something's off lately? You've been so distant." "I haven't." "You have," he insisted. "Bella, is it because I've been too busy and haven't had time for you? Are you upset with me?" "I told you, I'm not," she said. "Let go of me." "I won't," he said, pulling her closer. "Next week is our fifth wedding anniversary, Bella. I've prepared a surprise for you..." Just then, his phone rang. Samuel immediately released her and pulled out his phone, glancing at the screen. From Isabella's point of view, she saw him smirk, a mischievous glint in his eyes, as his gaze on the screen turned suddenly suggestive. He quickly typed a reply. Then, he looked at her with a slight apology and said, "Bella, there's an urgent matter at the company. I need to head out right now." There was still a flicker of hope inside Isabella. "When will you be back?" Samuel wrapped an arm around her, kissing her gently on the forehead. "I might not be back tonight. But tomorrow morning, I'll bring you your favorite pastries, okay?" Just like that, he was gone. His tablet was still on the couch in the living room. Isabella picked it up, noticing that his WhatsApp was still logged in. Two minutes ago, a woman under the name "Little Tease" had sent him a picture. The woman was dressed in a bunny girl outfit—black fishnet stockings and bright red high heels. Her eyes were half-lidded, her cheeks flushed, and she was licking her fingers seductively. Samuel: Want more? Little Tease: It's so lonely and empty when you're not here, Master. Samuel: I gave you love seven times today. Isn't that enough? Little Tease: Are you coming over, Master? I'm yours tonight, do whatever you want… Samuel's reply was short. Samuel: I'm coming. Isabella turned the tablet off, her heart sinking as she closed her eyes in pain. She thought she had stopped caring, but seeing those messages again felt like a brutal punch to the gut. Tears rolled down her cheeks, hot and relentless. She didn't know when she fell asleep, but all she could remember was dreaming of a man and a woman rolling in the sheets together. The man's face was Samuel's. Just then, her phone vibrated. She opened it to find a video. The scene in the video mirrored the one in her dream perfectly. The man and woman were passionately tangled together, even more intensely than in her dream. Samuel's face was twisted in lust, and she felt nothing but disgust. Jennifer: Have you ever seen him like this? He says he can only let himself go like this with me. The short, one-minute video quickly ended. And then, it looped. Again, and again. Isabella watched it like it was some kind of self-inflicted punishment, over and over again. She needed to make herself see Samuel for what he was right now, to strip away the last shred of love she had for him, and finally drive him out of her heart. Her lawyer had already drafted the divorce papers. She wiped away her tears, then carefully placed the divorce papers into a delicate gift box and tied a ribbon around it. Samuel didn't return until the next afternoon, carrying a box of pastries. "Sweetheart, I promised to bring you these—your favorite pastries. Aren't you happy?" Isabella gave him a distracted hum. Noticing the redness around her eyes, Samuel gently cupped her face, kissing away the tears. "Why are you crying? Who upset my precious wife? Tell me, and I'll make sure they pay for it." He still carried that sickly-sweet scent of someone who had just indulged in an affair, mixed with the faint traces of another woman's perfume. It made her stomach churn. Isabella pushed his hand away, creating some space between them. "No one," she replied flatly. "I just watched a really touching movie last night." Samuel pulled her into his arms, his voice full of concern. "Don't watch them alone anymore. Let me watch them with you next time." Watch with her? He was too busy giving all his time to Jennifer. Isabella suddenly wanted to ask him if he even had time to spend with her anymore. Samuel pointed to the delicate gift box on the coffee table, his face lighting up with surprise. "Bella, is this for me?" Isabella nodded. "You said you had a surprise for me for our fifth wedding anniversary, right? Well, I have a surprise for you, too." Samuel looked thrilled, holding the gift box like it was the most precious thing. "Can I open it now?" Isabella said. "Our anniversary is a week from now. You can open it then." Chapter 3 Samuel thought for a moment, then nodded with a patient smile. "Okay, let's open our surprises together. It'll be more meaningful that way." Isabella suddenly had the urge to see Samuel's reaction when he found out she had passed away and when he saw the divorce papers after. Would he be shocked, confused, or... surprised? Samuel, ever the charmer, tried to cheer her up. "I heard there's a good movie out. How about I take you to see it?" Isabella wasn't interested, but the theater he mentioned was right next to their old high school. It was the place where he had confessed his love to her for the first time. Back in their school days, they spent countless romantic, sweet moments on the street behind the school. It was a place that witnessed the happiest days of their love. Since that was where it all began, it might as well be where it ended. When they arrived at the theater, it was a little crowded. Samuel wrapped his arm around her protectively, pulling her close to shield her from the pressing crowd. Among the crowd, a few young women recognized them. "Hey, isn't that Mr. Grant? The woman he's holding is his wife, right? She's so beautiful!" "How does someone like Mr. Grant even exist? He's so handsome and devoted." "They're such a perfect match. They really do look amazing together." Samuel continued to protectively lead her to their seats. Then, he carefully helped her out of her jacket and held it for her. The theater manager, Isaac Smith, approached them with a wide grin, carrying a hand warmer and a cup of ginger tea with honey. "Mr. Grant, we heard that Mrs. Grant is going through a special time right now. We've prepared these just as you asked. Please let us know if you need anything else." Samuel took the items from him. He placed the hand warmer on her belly, and then handed her the tea. "The temperature's just right. Would you like a sip, Bella?" Isabella mechanically accepted his care, remaining silent the entire time. Samuel frowned slightly, then turned to Isaac. "Go and get some snacks, but nothing too greasy, spicy, or sweet. Bella doesn't like those." "Of course, Mr. Grant, I'll be right back." Isaac hurried off. The movie's opening credits began on the big screen. Just then, a woman approached Isabella's side and quietly said, "Excuse me, my seat is inside. Could you please let me through?" The lights in the theater had already dimmed, and Isabella didn't immediately realize what was happening. She quickly moved aside, letting the woman pass. It wasn't until the woman walked past her and then Samuel, finally settling in the seat next to him, that Isabella understood. She suddenly realized that the voice she had just heard was so familiar—it was the same voice from the video. The woman was Jennifer, the same girl who had been tangled up with Samuel in the video. At the next moment, the cup in Jennifer's hand tilted. The entire drink spilled across Samuel's stomach. "Oh, sorry... I'm so sorry!" Jennifer apologized, fumbling for a napkin from her bag to help him wipe it off. The dampness was on his stomach, but her hands kept sliding down, pressing in places that made Isabella's stomach churn. At the same time, Isabella could clearly feel the arm around her shoulders suddenly tighten. Along with that, his whole body tensed up. Out of the corner of her eye, Isabella glanced at Samuel's lower part. Jennifer's hand was underneath, with Samuel's hand firmly pressing down on hers, his gaze seeming to warn her not to cause trouble. But Jennifer continued to act as though nothing was wrong. She continued smiling and wiping. "Sir, how about I just buy you a new pair of pants?" "No need," Samuel's voice had turned rough and strained. The movie started. It was an animated film—the animals were cute, and the plot was funny. But Isabella couldn't focus on it at all. Ten minutes into the movie, Samuel suddenly stood up. "Bella, Isaac doesn't know what snacks you like. I'll go check." He still held her coat in his hand, draped over his forearm, covering the obvious state on the lower half of his body. As he walked away, Jennifer stood up as well and followed him. When she passed by Isabella, she flashed a disdainful smirk and shot her a quick glance. The look seemed to say: See? He chose me. Five minutes later, Isabella received a text: [Women's restroom.] She quickly left the theater and headed to the restroom at the end of the hallway. From the first stall in the women's restroom, she could hear muffled groans and faint pleas—no doubt Jennifer's voice. And the man's voice... Isabella knew it all too well. She stood frozen, rooted to the spot, unable to move. The noise from the stall grew louder, and the woman let out a sharp cry. Then, Samuel's mocking voice came, "Is that all you can handle? You chased after me to the theater, and this is how you perform?" Jennifer whimpered, and it was hard to tell if she was crying or laughing. "I miss you... I just can't stand seeing you with her." Samuel's tone cooled slightly. "I can give you everything else, but our affair can't be dragged in front of Bella. You've crossed the line tonight." "Okay, I get it. But don't you think it's exciting to be in a dark theater like this? It's a thrill." He chuckled softly. "It is a bit." "Then… should we continue tonight?" His voice was hoarse and strained. "I'll buy tickets in a bit for the midnight show." "Make sure it's the last row, okay? That way we won't have to hide in the bathroom... We can just be in our seats…" Not far off, Isaac hurried over. But he wasn't holding snacks—he had a small square box in his hands. He quietly called out near the women's restroom door, "Mr. Grant, I've bought the thing you asked for." The noise inside finally quieted for a moment, and Samuel appeared at the door. Isabella quickly stepped behind a pillar, her heart racing. Samuel chuckled lightly. "That was fast." "Of course, the movie's short—only three hours. Can't waste a moment of your special time," Isaac replied. Samuel sounded pleased. "Take good care of Bella. Don't let her notice anything unusual, understood?" "You can count on me, Mr. Grant. Mrs. Grant is so innocent. Women like her are easy to please—she'll believe anything you tell her." Isabella fled as if running for her life. Back in her seat, she let herself cry for a few minutes. But then, she forced herself to stop. This was the last time. This was the last time she would cry for Samuel. But it wasn't really for him. It was for the pure-hearted boy in her memories, the one who had only eyes for her. The man with her now was nothing like that boy anymore. And since he wasn't, she wouldn't hold onto him anymore. Chapter 4 Samuel didn't return until the movie was almost over. He still smelled of that sickly-sweet, pungent scent. In addition to that, he brought a box of popcorn. "Bella, I'm sorry I'm late. The popcorn machine broke down at the theater, and they spent forever fixing it. It's freshly made, though. Eat it while it's warm." Isabella waved her hand. "I don't want any." "Not even the ginger tea with honey?" "I don't want it." "Alright, no food, no drink, then. Let's just watch the movie." Isabella scoffed. "The movie's almost over." "It's all that technician's fault. He took so long to fix the machine." "So, for the last three hours, you've just been waiting for him to fix it?" Samuel nodded earnestly. "Yes. Isaac can vouch for me. If you don't believe me, you can ask him." "No need," Isabella said, grabbing her bag and walking away. Samuel hurried after her, holding her coat and the popcorn. "Bella, just tell me what I did wrong. I'll change, okay? Don't ignore me. I'm scared." "Scared of what?" "Scared that you don't love me anymore." Isabella stopped and turned to face him, looking straight into his eyes. It was he who had betrayed their relationship first. It was he who said one thing and did another. It was he who stopped cherishing her. Since that was the case, she decided to take back everything—her heart, her trust, her love… And her body. She had given a piece of her clothing to Fauxlife Solutions, the agency that was faking her death. She had torn it up, then bit her finger and smeared the blood on it. A week later, he would receive that bloody shirt. And she? She would be gone from his life forever. "Bella, why aren't you saying anything?" Isabella exhaled deeply, her voice flat. "It's just my period. I'm a little tired." "Let me take you home to rest." "Okay." On the way home, Samuel kept trying to talk to her, telling her jokes. But Isabella only responded with, "I'm a bit tired. I want to rest." With that, Samuel fell silent. When they arrived home, he walked her to the bedroom. Isabella asked, "Are you still going to the office tonight to handle work?" Samuel hummed in acknowledgment. "There are a few things left to do. I didn't finish them yesterday, so I'll need to work late tonight." "Then you should go." Isabella turned her back to him as she lay down, sending a silent signal for him to leave. Samuel stood still, not moving. He seemed to sense that something was off, but couldn't quite figure out what was wrong. Isabella suddenly had the urge to play a little prank. She turned to him and said, "Can you not go tonight?" Samuel visibly relaxed. She still depended on him, still acted a little spoiled, and still wanted him close. That meant she hadn't discovered anything. He smiled gently. "Sweetheart, I've already made plans. The executives are all waiting for me. But next week—next week, I'll make time to spend with you, okay?" "Next week?" "Yeah. Isn't next weekend our five-year anniversary? I'm planning a grand ceremony to let everyone in Herswick City know that you're the woman I love most in this life." A grand ceremony? Isabella smiled. That made it all the more exciting. "Alright, then. Go ahead." "You're such a good girl, Bella. I'm leaving, then. It's about time for the meeting, and I can't keep them waiting." Was he in a rush to not keep "them" waiting, or to not keep "her" waiting? Samuel hurried out. The tablet on the couch began vibrating again. They were in touch once more. Samuel: Are you ready? Jennifer sent a picture. This time, she was in a nurse's uniform. Of course, not the proper kind—what should be exposed was, and what shouldn't was also exposed. Samuel: I'll make sure you scream tonight. Isabella turned off the tablet and began gathering her things. Her clothes, her purse, her shoes—everything Samuel had ever given her over the years. Then, she went into the closet and continued pulling things out. Her hand paused for a moment when she touched a metal box. Inside the box were the letters Samuel had written to her—there was a thick stack of them. When they first got together, he wrote, [From today, Bella is my one true love.] On his birthday, he wrote, [My birthday wish is to spend a lifetime loving Bella and growing old together.] For Isabella's 20th birthday, he wrote, [My darling Bella is of legal age now, I can't wait to marry you.] On their wedding day, he wrote, [To the most beautiful and lovable Princess Bella, welcome to my world.] Isabella didn't care to look at the rest. She took all the letters outside and burned them, letting the fire consume them completely. The next morning, she was woken by the sound of Samuel entering the room. He sounded angry. "Bella, our wedding ring was stolen by a beggar, and he sold it at a pawn shop!" Isabella felt a pang of disappointment. How did he find it? "And he sold it for only 10,000! It's such an insult to our ring!" He came over, took her hand, and tried to put the ring back on her finger. "Now, let's return it to its rightful owner…" Isabella pulled her hand back, refusing to wear the ring again. Samuel seemed confused. "Bella, what's wrong?" "It's nothing, I just... I've gained a bit of weight recently, and the ring doesn't fit anymore." Samuel laughed. "That's okay. I'll take it to the jeweler to resize it for you." "Whatever," Isabella replied, then asked, "You didn't do anything to that beggar, did you?" Samuel came closer and hugged her. "Don't worry. I know how kind-hearted you are, Bella. You wouldn't want to see the beggar suffer. I didn't hold him accountable." "Maybe we should give him some more money. He's pitiful." "Alright, I'll give him another 10,000 later." Just then, Isabella's phone rang, and she answered it. "Hello, Ms. Jones, this is Fauxlife Solutions. We've completed the new identification documents as per your request. Are you available to pick them up?" "Sure, send me the address." "I'll send the location to your phone shortly." "By the way, will the new documents allow me to purchase flight tickets?" "Don't worry, they will be fully valid for that." "Okay, thank you." After Isabella hung up the call, Samuel suddenly seemed anxious and wrapped his arms around her. "Bella, what's this about new documents? Flight tickets? Are you leaving? Where are you going?" Chapter 5 Being held by Samuel used to feel like happiness. But now, Isabella only felt discomfort. She broke free from his embrace and stepped away from him, putting a few paces between them. Samuel seemed even more panicked and rushed after her. "Bella, do you want to go on a trip? Next week, I promise I'll clear my schedule and spend all my time with you. Don't be mad. Don't leave me, okay?" Isabella only felt a cold emptiness inside. The man who was begging her not to leave, pleading like this—was he the real Samuel? Or was it the man she had seen on the video, tangled up with Jennifer? Isabella couldn't tell anymore. But it didn't matter. Soon, she would leave him forever. Whether she knew which version of him was real, it wouldn't make any difference. She spoke flatly, "You're overthinking. Didn't you say we're having a ceremony for our anniversary?" Samuel still didn't believe it and continued to pester her. "But what about the new documents you mentioned? What documents did you get? You even asked about flight tickets." "It's for a classmate of mine. She lost her documents and couldn't buy a ticket. She needs to get new ones." "Which classmate?" "…You don't know her." "I know all your classmates." Isabella changed the subject. "Enough about me. What about you? Did you finish everything at work last night?" "Almost." Before he could finish, his phone rang again. Isabella was already used to Jennifer calling him and dragging him away. No matter what, Samuel was going to leave. So, she walked away and sat on the couch to wait. She heard Samuel's quiet reprimand. "I've told you already, don't call me when I'm at home!" On the other end of the phone, she could hear a woman crying softly. Then, Samuel sneaked a peak at Isabella guiltily. "…Fine. I'll come over now." After hanging up, Samuel hesitated before speaking again. "Bella, there's a small issue at the company that is leftover from last night... I have to take care of it." Isabella nodded immediately. "Go ahead. Work's been busy lately. I understand." Samuel hurriedly left once again. Isabella held her phone. She was waiting to see what shocking video Jennifer would send her next. As expected, Jennifer's message came quickly. This time, it was a photo—a hospital checkup form. [Jennifer Lewis, four weeks pregnant, threatened miscarriage] Jennifer: Last night at the theater was too much fun, and the baby's showing signs of miscarriage. The hospital says the baby's father needs to be there to sign the forms. Sorry, Mrs. Grant, but your husband belongs to me again today! Jennifer was pregnant?! Isabella held the phone tightly, staring at the pregnancy test results. She couldn't snap out of it. Jennifer: I forgot to tell you, for the next week, he'll still be mine. He promised to go to Hawaii with me to celebrate our little baby. Jennifer: He's leaving the room to give you a call. Be prepared, Mrs. Grant. The way she said "Mrs. Grant" was filled with a hint of provocation. Almost immediately, Isabella's phone rang. The screen displayed the word [Honey]. She took a deep breath and answered. "Bella, I'm sorry. Something came up at work, and I need to go on a business trip-" Before he could finish, Isabella interrupted him directly. "Go ahead." Samuel continued apologizing, "Bella, don't worry. I'll be back for our anniversary. And the wedding ring—the symbol of our love—I'll put it back on you during the ceremony." "Samuel, do you love me?" "Of course! You're the only woman I've ever loved in this life." Isabella replied, "If one day, you betray our love, I will leave you. Forever." Samuel laughed like he had just heard a joke. He chuckled and said, "I won't ever give you that chance." "I'm serious. I'm not joking. If I ever find out, you'll never find me again." "As long as you're Isabella Jones, it doesn't matter where you go. Even if you run to the end of the world, I'll always find you." "Really? What if I'm not Isabella Jones anymore?" Samuel's smile widened, and his voice was lazy and indulgent. "How could you not be Isabella? Alright, Bella, don't overthink things. I'll only ever love you. One week from now, I'll be back to spend time with you." Ten minutes later, the staff from Fauxlife Solutions sent her an address. When Isabella arrived, the staff handed her a stack of documents. "Ms. Jones, from today on, this is your new identity." She flipped through the papers. Her new name was Elysia Farrow. Elysia was a beautiful name associated with "parting"—she was about to leave Samuel forever. She had chosen this name for herself. From now on, there would be no more Isabella Jones. There would only be Elysia Farrow. "Ms. Jones… I mean, Ms. Farrow, we've also booked your ticket. It's for next Saturday at 10 a.m. to Frosthaven." Isabella gathered the documents and nodded, thanking the staff. "Thank you. I'll transfer the full commission to your company's account later." "Ms. Farrow, you still have a week to reconsider. If you change your mind, we won't charge you any fees." "No," Isabella stood up, her tone firm. "I won't change my mind." Chapter 6 In the following days, messages from Samuel and Jennifer kept coming in. Three days before their anniversary, Isabella checked her messages. Jennifer: The sea breeze in Hawaii is so nice! The seafood is delicious too, but he says I can't eat seafood because I'm pregnant. So, he ran really far to buy me Eastern food! Attached was a picture of a Hawaiian beach scene. There was the sand and a coconut grove. Not far away, Samuel was opening a take-out box. Samuel: There are so few choices of Eastern food here. I had to travel far to find some. Bella, what did you eat today? Isabella had spent the day with her close friends. They had a barbeque and had a great time. After all, she was about to change her identity and leave. It would be hard to see them again, so she wanted to cherish this last time. Two days before their anniversary, Isabella's phone vibrated with incoming messages. Jennifer: The baby is only a month old, and he's already studying early childhood education. He's going to be such a great first-time dad! The attached photo was of Samuel's desk, stacked high with books. Isabella skimmed the titles—Baby Prenatal Education Guide, The Wisdom of Early Education, and so on. Samuel: Bella, I spent the whole day reading books. I've learned a lot. What about you? What did you do today? Isabella had gone to the bank. She exchanged all the funds from her account into foreign currency, withdrew cash, and closed all the bank cards under the name "Isabella Jones". One day before their anniversary, Isabella glanced at her phone. Jennifer: He's so sweet and caring. He doesn't want anyone else to touch my clothes while I'm pregnant, so he's washing them himself. Look! The attached photo was of Samuel, busy in the laundry room. Samuel: I didn't realize how exhausting laundry is. I think I'll leave it to the maid from now on. I don't want my darling wife working so hard. Isabella laughed. For five years of marriage, she had washed all of his clothes by hand. And now, he was washing clothes for another woman. How ironic. Just then, the charity organization arrived. Isabella carefully cleaned and packed her old clothes, handing them all over to the charity. When she came back and saw the house nearly empty, she felt a sense of lightness she had never experienced before. It turned out that the end of love was just a moment's decision. Once she stopped loving him, she could be so carefree. - The night before their anniversary, Isabella went to the mountaintop alone. She just looked up at the vast night sky, dotted with stars, the crescent moon hanging low. It was beautiful. When she received Samuel's call, it was already late. He sounded happy. "Bella, I've just landed. I'll be home soon. I'll bring you some snacks, how about it?" "I'm not home." "It's so late. Where are you?" "On the mountaintop." "What are you doing on the mountaintop?" "Watching the stars." "Wait for me, I'll come right now…" Suddenly, there was a loud noise on the other end of the line. It sounded like a woman was speaking. Samuel snapped something in a low voice. The woman seemed persistent, and Samuel didn't say anything for a long while. Then, Isabella heard what seemed to be the sound of a kiss. Isabella sneered. "Samuel, are you still coming?" His voice was somewhat hoarse as he said, "Bella, starting tomorrow, I'll be with you all the time. I just need to go to the office tonight and wrap things up. After that, I can focus on being with you. How does that sound?" Isabella laughed. "Sounds good." "My darling wife is so understanding. Let's meet at the ceremony venue tomorrow. Oh, and don't forget the gift you got me. I'm really looking forward to the surprise you've prepared." "Samuel," Isabella called him one last time. "What is it?" "It's nothing." Nothing at all. From now on, Isabella Jones no longer existed in this world. After descending the mountain, she hailed a taxi. "Hello, sir. To the airport, please." The driver noticed she was alone and asked with concern, "Miss, where's your luggage? I can help you with it." "I don't have any luggage. Just drive." All she had was a passport and a flight ticket. Everything else was donated or burned. Anything related to the name "Isabella Jones" had already been taken care of. Thirty minutes later, the car stopped at the airport entrance. Isabella transferred all the money from her phone to the driver. The driver looked flustered. "Miss, you transferred the wrong amount. It's 30 dollars, not 30 thousand! Let me send it back to you-" "It's fine. Thank you for the ride." She got out of the car and tossed her phone into the trash. Without looking back, she walked into the terminal.	LEARN_MORE	https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1	Happyday	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	1,660	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	www.qknymufd.com	VIDEO		https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18282&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/t39.35426-6/477775256_942044648050587_5093142086899263671_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=IS8NM5Das4oQ7kNvgHhUhuX&_nc_oc=AdhFhUNqKYbWz8_ZFTbLBpnPkAkRNU7uwzdurNGKc_qR7KSgRrDxuwAes4Ut9aipSD0i1DvmVyoNPcuKzUeZaVZI&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A5-djZHG-wnQk6qJq0zl3FL&oh=00_AYDmqhJJdLFoECbwexBWAaQGkw-KsviQjQwapOKe2N6KqQ&oe=67C9E2FA	PERSON_PROFILE	Happyday	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,726,209	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-02 01:48	active	2672	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/	610	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	VIDEO		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=898E73583E5F987991EE5157AA1115EC9D6094AA74E8576F	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476341671_1154201676301356_1633325354047154456_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=W0wo2Rp1sWYQ7kNvgGLUzzn&_nc_oc=AdiEJJkrmaIrvk3LYUNZxyH-BwG-hhs_wOWqo5JPaW8O31U43Woxkrp_8bVRtIS68HYaUez02iiEhF7mRr9h6OEh&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ATOZfxibaVizx4IRLq6vlWb&oh=00_AYDNv_nBGCvXYcvUUA9WYh-NqSh5w4MkA5adikAjVJ-P8Q&oe=67C9F7B3	PERSON_PROFILE	Heat Novel A	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,726,467	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2725883}'	No	2025-03-02 01:48	active	2672	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	One day, Wendy discovered that her husband Stanley was having an affair. He had been seeing a college student. It was Stanley's birthday. Wendy had prepared a table full of dishes early in the day. Just then, she heard a notification from his phone. Ding! He had left his phone at home. Wendy switched it on and saw a text from the college student. [I hurt myself when I was carrying the cake. It hurts so much.] Attached was a selfie—not of the sender's face, but of her legs. The girl in the photo wore pulled-up white socks, black leather shoes, and a blue-and-white skirt that had been pushed up to reveal her long, slender legs. Her pale knees were visibly reddened from the bump. The youthful, vibrant image of her body paired with coquettish words exuded a forbidden allure. People often say successful businessmen like Stanley favored this type of woman when choosing mistresses. Wendy clutched the phone tightly, her fingers turning white from the pressure. Ding! Another text came from the college student. "Mr. Hawk, see you at Cloud Hotel tonight. I want to celebrate your birthday!" So, his mistress wanted to celebrate his birthday tonight. Wendy grabbed her bag and headed straight to Cloud Hotel. She had to see for herself who this college student was. She soon arrived at the hotel, ready to go in. Just then, she saw her parents, Harry and Lilian at the entrance. Surprised, she walked up to them. "Dad, Mom, what are you doing here?" she asked. Harry and Lilian, caught off guard, exchanged a glance before responding to her hesitantly. "Wendy, your sister's back in the country. We brought her here," Harry said. 'Jessica?' Through the hotel's gleaming floor-to-ceiling windows, Wendy spotted her sister Jessica and immediately froze. Jessica was wearing the exact same blue-and-white skirt from the photo in Stanley's phone. The college student was none other than her own sister! Jessica had always been a beauty, known as the 'Red Rose of Hovendale,' and she was famed for having the most beautiful legs in town. Many men had been captivated by her charm. And now, her darling sister was using those legs to seduce her husband. Wendy found it laughable. She turned to her parents and said coldly, "So I'm the last to know?" Harry gave a sheepish smile. "Wendy, Mr. Hawk doesn't even like you." "Exactly, Wendy," Lilian chimed in. "Do you know how many women in Hovendale are dying to be with Mr. Hawk? Better to let Jessica have him than some other woman." Wendy clenched her fists. "Dad, Mom, I'm your daughter too!" Turning on her heel, she started walking away. Lilian called after her. "Wendy, tell me—has Mr. Hawk ever touched you?" Wendy stopped in her tracks. Harry's voice turned sharp. "Wendy, don't act like we owe you anything. Three years ago, when Stanley and Jessica were Hovendale's golden couple, everyone thought they'd get married. But then Stanley got into a car accident and went into a coma. That's the only reason we had you marry him instead." Lilian gave Wendy a disdainful once-over. "Look at yourself, Wendy. In the past three years, you've turned into a housewife who revolves around her husband. Meanwhile, Jessica became the principal ballerina of her company. She's a white swan, and you're just an ugly duckling. What do you have to compete with Jessica? Just give Mr. Hawk back to her already." Every word felt like a knife into Wendy's chest. Tears filling her eyes, she walked away. - Back at the villa, night had fallen. Wendy had sent the maid Mathilda home, so the house was empty, dark, and cold. She sat alone at the dining table. The once-warm meal had gone cold. The cake she had carefully prepared had 'Happy Birthday, Honey' written on it in frosting. It was glaringly ironic, just like her existence—a complete joke. Stanley and Jessica had been the golden couple of Hovendale, with Jessica as Stanley's cherished 'Red Rose.' But three years ago, a sudden car accident left Stanley in a vegetative state and Jessica disappeared entirely. That was when the Crone family brought Wendy back from the countryside and forced her to marry Stanley in Jessica's place. Wendy had agreed willingly when she found out it was Stanley—the man she had loved all along. For three years, Stanley remained in a coma. During those years, Wendy devoted herself to caring for him. She stayed by his side, gave up socializing, and focused solely on nursing him back to health, living as a dutiful housewife. In the end, her efforts paid off. Stanley woke up. Wendy lit the candles on the cake. The flickering glow illuminated her reflection in the nearby mirror—a plain housewife in a dull black-and-white dress, devoid of charm or excitement. Meanwhile, Jessica, now a successful ballerina, was young, vibrant, and beautiful. Wendy was an ugly duckling, while Jessica was the white swan. After waking up, Stanley abandoned the ugly duckling and returned to the white swan's side. Wendy let out a bitter laugh. This wasn't love; it was self-delusion. Stanley had never loved her, but she had loved him. The first one to fall in love always lost. Today, Stanley had made her lose completely. Tears welled in her eyes as she blew out the candles, plunging the villa back into darkness. Just then, two bright headlights pierced through the night. Stanley's car sped up the driveway and came to a halt on the lawn. Wendy's eyelashes quivered. He had come back. She had thought he wouldn't return tonight. The villa door opened and Stanley stepped in, carrying the cool air of the night with him. Stanley Hawk, the heir of the Hawk family, had been a business prodigy from a very young age. By 16, he had earned dual master's degrees from Harfield. Later, he took Hawk Group public in Hawthorne, making a name for himself internationally before returning home to lead the company as Hovendale's wealthiest man. Stanley walked in. "Why didn't you turn on the lights?" he asked in a deep, magnetic voice as he turned on the wall lamp with a click. The sudden brightness made Wendy blink. When her eyes adjusted, she looked at him. Dressed in a custom-tailored black suit, Stanley exuded a cold, aristocratic elegance that left countless socialites dreaming of him at night. "It's your birthday," she said. Stanley's handsome face remained indifferent as his gaze swept lazily over the dining table. "Don't waste your time on this again. I don't celebrate such occasions." Wendy smiled faintly. "Is it that you don't celebrate, or you just don't want to celebrate with me?" Stanley glanced at her, his gaze impassive. "Think what you like." With that, he turned around and started up the stairs. He had always been like this—distant and cold. No matter what she did, she could never warm his heart. Wendy stood and called after him. "It's your birthday today. I have a gift for you." However, Stanley didn't stop or turn around. "I don't need it." Wendy let out a soft chuckle and said, "Stanley, let's get a divorce." Stanley froze mid-step, one foot already on the staircase. He turned around, his deep black eyes locking onto her. Chapter 2 Wendy was also staring at him. Her tone was light but firm as she repeated, "Let's get a divorce, Stanley. Do you like your birthday gift?" Stanley didn't bat an eyelid. "You're asking for a divorce just because I didn't celebrate my birthday with you?" "Jessica has returned, hasn't she?" At the mention of Jessica, Stanley's thin lips curled into a faint, mocking smile. He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Are you bothered by Jessica?" Stanley, known as the youngest business prodigy alive, exuded an aura of power, wealth, and status. As he approached, Wendy instinctively stepped back, her slender back pressing against the cold wall. Her vision went dark as Stanley leaned in. He propped one hand against the wall beside her, trapping her between his firm chest and the wall. Looking down at her with his deep, striking eyes, Stanley sneered. "Everyone in Hovendale knows Jessica was the one I intended to marry. Weren't you aware when you schemed to replace her and became Mrs. Hawk? You didn’t mind then, so why act all self-righteous now?" Wendy's face turned pale. Yes, Stanley had wanted to marry Jessica. If not for the accident that left him in a coma, how could Wendy have married him? She would never forget the day he woke up. The disappointment and coldness in his eyes when he saw her was devastating. Since then, they had lived in separate rooms. He never touched her. He loved Jessica. Wendy had always known this, but... She gazed deeply at Stanley's face, the grown man overlapping in her mind with the young boy from years ago. 'Stanley, do you really not remember me?' It turned out she had been standing in place all along, waiting for someone that no longer existed. It was enough. These three years were just her one-sided effort to cherish him. Suppressing the ache in her heart, Wendy said softly, "Stanley, let's end this loveless marriage." Stanley's brows arched sharply, and his deep, magnetic voice could be heard. "Loveless?" He raised his hand, gripping her delicate chin, his thumb brushing against her crimson lips in a provocative motion. "Is that why? Are you asking for a divorce because of that? Do you want it that badly?" Wendy's delicate face flushed red like a ripe berry, vibrant and tempting. That wasn’t what she meant! Yet his thumb lingered on her lips, pressing and toying with them. She hadn't expected such a composed and distinguished man to have such a teasing, roguish side. Stanley was seeing Wendy up close for the first time. She usually dressed in monotonous black-and-white outfits, paired with oversized black-framed glasses, presenting herself like an old maid. But up close, he realized her face was barely the size of his palm, and her delicate features exuded a quiet elegance beneath those glasses. Her dark pupils were stunningly beautiful. Her lips were soft, their plush surface springing back with a subtle elasticity wherever his thumb pressed. It stirred an unbidden thought. Stanley’s gaze darkened. "I didn’t expect you to be so eager. You’re that desperate for a man, aren’t you?" Slap! Wendy raised her hand and slapped him across the face. Stanley’s handsome face tilted to the side from the impact. Wendy’s fingers trembled with anger. She realized that loving someone too humbly only led to her dignity being trampled on. He had actually humiliated her. Furious, she declared, "I know you’ve never stopped thinking about Jessica. Fine, I’ll fulfill your wishes and return Mrs. Hawk’s title to her!" Stanley’s face instantly darkened, frosty and sullen. A man of his stature had never been slapped before—never! His sharp gaze locked onto her. "Wendy, you married me when it was convenient for you, and now you want a divorce just because you feel like it. What do you take me for?" Wendy let out a soft chuckle. "A plaything." "What?" Stanley’s expression stiffened. Wendy forced herself to endure the pain in her heart and said what she knew would hurt him. "You’re just a toy I took from Jessica. I’m done playing, so I’m tossing you aside." Stanley’s expression turned grim, his mood darkening to the point where it could drip with venom. "Fine! Wendy, you’re something else. Let’s divorce, but don’t come crying back to me, begging for reconciliation!" He stormed upstairs, slamming the study door shut with a deafening bang. Wendy felt as though all the strength had been drained from her body. Slowly, she slid down the wall, crouching on the carpet. Hugging her knees, she whispered to herself, 'Stanley, I won’t love you anymore.' - The next morning, Mathilda entered the study. Stanley was seated at his desk, reviewing documents. He was a notorious workaholic. "Sir," Mathilda greeted Stanley cautiously. Stanley didn’t even look up. His icy aura hinted at his foul mood. It felt cold being around him. Mathilda carefully placed a cup of coffee by his hand. "Sir, this coffee was made by Mrs. Hawk." Stanley’s pen paused mid-air, his cold expression softening slightly. Was she trying to make amends? Truth be told, Wendy was an excellent wife. She cooked to his preferences, hand-washed his clothes, and meticulously managed his daily needs. Stanley picked up the coffee, taking a sip. It was her coffee—the taste he liked. But he was still angry. She had slapped him last night, and he wasn’t about to let that go easily. A single cup of coffee wouldn’t suffice as an apology. "Did she admit she was wrong?" Stanley asked. Mathilda glanced at him hesitantly. "Sir, Mrs. Hawk has left." Stanley froze, looking up at Mathilda. She handed him a piece of paper. "Sir, Mrs. Hawk left this with her suitcase and asked me to give this to you before she left." Stanley unfolded the paper. The words 'Divorce Agreement' caught his eye. His expression darkened. He thought she was trying to reconcile. Mathilda added cautiously, "Sir, Mrs. Hawk asked you to finish the coffee before signing the divorce papers." Stanley glared at the coffee. "Throw it out! All of it!" 'Sir, you seemed to like the coffee just fine a moment ago. Why don't you anymore?' Mathilda thought to herself. Without saying another word, she quickly left with the coffee. Stanley’s face was a thunderstorm, his mood in turmoil. He skimmed through the divorce agreement. She wasn’t asking for a penny—she intended to leave with nothing. Stanley scoffed coldly. It was bold of her to act like she didn’t need his money. How would a country girl like her survive without it? It was then that his gaze landed on the reason for divorce, handwritten by Wendy herself. "Due to my husband’s physical dysfunction, he cannot fulfill his marital obligations." Stanley froze, his handsome face turning completely dark. 'That woman!' He grabbed his phone and dialed Wendy’s number. The line connected, and Wendy’s voice came through clearly. "Hello?" Chapter 3 Stanley's thin lips curved into a frosty arc. "Wendy, get back here immediately!" Wendy chuckled. "You expect me to come back just because you said so? We're divorced, Stanley. I'm not going to continue indulging you!" Stanley clenched his jaw. "I'll give you a chance to rewrite the reason for divorce!" Wendy's tone grew more playful. "Did I write anything wrong? Stanley, it's been six months since you woke up, hasn't it? Yet, in these six months, you haven't even held my hand. You were in a coma for three years, and although you're physically healthy now, I have legitimate reasons to believe you've developed functional problems. You're not potent anymore! Better hurry to find an experienced naturopath. As our parting gift, I wish you an early recovery of your manhood!" Stanley was rendered speechless. The veins on his forehead were visibly twitching. This woman was out of control. "Wendy, I'll make you regret this! You'll know what I'm capable of sooner or later!" "Sorry, but you'll never get the chance!" "Wendy!" The call abruptly ended with two cold beeps. He hadn't even had time to explode in anger before hearing the disconnected tone. 'Wendy…!' - Wendy had already arrived at her best friend Cecelia Sunder's apartment. After she hung up the phone, Cecelia burst out laughing and gave her a big thumbs-up. "Wendy, that was amazing! Stanley must be so furious, he's spitting blood right now." Wendy reflected that she had been too humble in the past, which had allowed him to act superior to her for so long. 'Love yourself first. A woman must always prioritize self-love.' "Three years ago, when Jessica learned Stanley went into a coma after the car accident, she immediately ran away. Now that he's awake, he's crawling back to her? What a joke! You're better off without a man like that," Cecelia commented. Wendy unwrapped a candy and popped it into her mouth. The sweetness seemed to mask the bitterness in her heart. "That's how you tell if you're loved or not, Cecelia." Those who were loved were fearless. Those who weren't lived in constant insecurity. Cecelia noticed Wendy had already gone through a pile of candies. She pulled Wendy to her feet. "Wendy, cheer up! When you give up one tree, you'll discover an entire forest waiting for you. Tonight, I'm booking eight male hosts to celebrate you becoming single!" Wendy covered her forehead and laughed. Cecelia suddenly snatched Wendy's black-rimmed glasses off her face, tossing them into the trash. Wendy tried to retrieve them. "My glasses—" Cecelia stopped her. "Wendy, you've been in academic research for too long, and you've gotten used to wearing these glasses. But you should take a page out of Jessica's book and doll yourself up." Wendy thought about how her parents had always told her she was an ugly duckling while Jessica was a swan. It wasn't just her parents—Stanley must have thought the same. In his eyes, she was just an ugly duckling too. Cecelia dragged Wendy to the door. "Come on, we're going shopping! Hair, nails, clothes—everything! I want Stanley and everyone else to see how stunning you can be!" As they walked out, Cecelia suddenly remembered something. "Oh, Wendy, are you really not taking any money from Stanley after the divorce?" "I have my own money," Wendy replied. "Letting Jessica spend Stanley's money instead? Jessica says thank you!" Cecelia teased. Wendy didn't know what to say to that. "What about the card Stanley gave you?" Cecelia pressed. Stanley was always generous and had given Wendy a premium black card. However, she had never used it. Wendy pulled the black card out of her purse and winked playfully. "Today, I'll splurge—and let Stanley foot the bill." - That evening, at 1996 Bar. 1996 Bar was Hovendale's playground for the rich, where young heirs and the city's elites spent extravagantly. The music was never-ending, and the dance floor was wild. In a luxurious and dimly lit booth, Stanley sat in the center of a leather sofa. Tonight, he had on a black shirt paired with black trousers. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his toned forearms and a steel watch worth millions. His aristocratic, striking features made him the center of attention, drawing glances from countless women in the bar. Beside him was his close friend, Benny Gondale—the heir of the Gondale family—and several other young elites. Benny laughed. "Stanley, are you serious? Wendy wants a divorce?" The others laughed along. "Everyone knows Wendy loves Stanley to the bone. When he was in a coma, she insisted on marrying him. There's no way she'd actually go through with a divorce." "Let's bet on it. How long do you think Wendy can hold out before begging Stanley to take her back?" Benny smirked. "I bet she can't even make it through tonight. She's probably already sent Stanley a message." Stanley's chiseled features remained cold and sharp, his mood clearly sour. He pulled out his phone and opened WhatsApp to check their chat history. The last message from Wendy was from last night. She had sent a photo of the broth with the caption, [Honey, even though your bone density is back to normal, you should still drink this broth regularly. Don't come home too late!] As he scrolled up, he saw countless similar messages—all from Wendy. She messaged him every day. He had never replied. Not once. Today, the chat was silent. Stanley felt a vague sense of irritation. Ding! A notification popped up. "See? I told you—Wendy messaged you!" Benny immediately exclaimed. Ding, ding, ding! Several more notifications followed in quick succession. The group burst out laughing. "We knew it—Wendy couldn't hold out! But we didn't expect her to cave so fast." "Stanley, open them. Let's see how Wendy is begging you to reconcile," Benny urged. Stanley's sharp eyebrows lifted slightly. Did she really send a message? If she regretted it so quickly, why did she make such a fuss this morning? He tapped on the notifications, only to freeze. Benny leaned over and read aloud, "Dear VVIP customer, your card ending in 0975 has been charged 800 at Dazzling Nail Salon." The group collectively frowned. Stanley scrolled further. 2,000. 86,000. 240,000. There were no messages about reconciliations, only transaction notifications. The group fell silent, feeling like Wendy had slapped them all hard in the face. Stanley's expression darkened and he slammed his phone onto the table. He didn't care how much money Wendy spent. What bothered him was that she had gone on a shopping spree right after their divorce. This woman was something else! The once submissive Wendy, who had clung to him for three years, now seemed to have grown fangs. "Stanley, what's Wendy up to? She's gone to do her nails and hair, and buy clothes. Is she trying to imitate Jessica?" Benny commented. "Jessica is Hovendale's Red Rose. Wendy's just a country bumpkin. No matter how hard she tries, she'll only be a pale imitation." "A swan is a swan. An ugly duckling will always be an ugly duckling." Everyone laughed at Wendy. Suddenly, there was a commotion in the bar. All eyes turned toward the entrance. Someone gasped, "Look—an angel just walked in!" Chapter 4 Wendy arrived. After finishing their shopping spree at the mall, Cecelia brought Wendy directly to 1996 Bar. Tonight, she was determined to throw a celebration party for Wendy. Wendy hadn't expected to run into Stanley and his friends here, but she could hear their mocking remarks. She recognized Benny and the others in the luxury booth. They were part of Stanley's circle, and Benny was Stanley's close friend. Back when Stanley had a whirlwind romance with Jessica, they were all fans of Jessica, with Benny even regarding her as Stanley's future wife. Over the past three years, Wendy had never truly integrated into their group. None of them ever accepted her. The labels they plastered on her were always the same: desperate substitute bride, ugly duckling, country bumpkin, and the like. When a man didn't love you, his friends wouldn't respect you either. Cecelia, already fuming, rolled up her sleeves, ready to confront them. "I'm going to tear their mouths apart!" Wendy quickly held her back. "Cecelia, forget it! We're divorced now—there's no need to stoop to their level." Seeing Wendy's calm and indifferent demeanor, Cecelia reluctantly held back her temper. Then, as more and more people began to notice Wendy and exclaimed, calling her an angel, Cecelia's mood improved. "Wendy, let's go. Time to party." Cecelia dragged Wendy to another luxury booth and waved her hand grandly. "Bring all the male hosts from 1996 Bar over here!" Meanwhile, back at Stanley's booth, Benny and the others continued to mock Wendy. That was when they felt an icy and sharp gaze fall upon them. Looking up, they saw Stanley lazily lifting his cold gaze to glare at them. His expression was chilling, displeased, and full of warning. The men stopped laughing, and they immediately shut up, not daring to speak ill of Wendy again. Benny glanced at Stanley. Although Stanley had never paid much attention to Wendy, she had, after all, cared for him diligently for three years. It seemed Stanley still held some regard for that. At that moment, the commotion around them grew louder. "Wow, what a stunning angel!" 'An angel? Where?' Following the direction of the crowd's gaze, Benny looked ahead and was instantly dumbfounded. "Holy crap, she really is an angel." The other rich young men were equally astonished, their eyes glued to her. "When did such a stunning angel begin existing in Hovendale? How have we never seen her before?" Benny nudged Stanley. "Stanley, look! It's an angel." Stanley, who had no shortage of women around him, wasn't interested. He had seen all kinds of women—slim, curvy, and everything in between. He had no intention of looking, but Wendy's booth happened to be right across from theirs. When Stanley glanced over, he saw Wendy. Without her black-framed glasses and her usual dull, conservative attire, she revealed a delicate, fair face, her naturally exquisite bone structure, and ethereal beauty shining through. Her long, glossy black hair flowed gracefully over her shoulders, making her look like a true angel. Stanley paused, staring at her for two full seconds. Benny was excited. "Stanley, what do you think of the angel?" Another rich young man chimed in, "Mr. Hawk probably doesn't think much of her. Mr. Hawk likes delicate beauties like Jessica, not cold, aloof angels." "But look at her legs! Her legs are just as stunning as Jessica's." Wendy was wearing a short dress, shedding her usual conservative style and showing her legs for the first time. Her legs were perfectly proportioned—slender yet shapely. Those were legs that could make any man's imagination run wild. She looked just as good as Jessica. Stanley stared at the 'angel' for a moment and couldn't shake the feeling that she looked familiar, as if he'd seen her somewhere before. Just then, a line of male hosts walked in, all tall and handsome, forming a row in front of Wendy. Cecelia grinned. "Wendy, make your pick of eight." Deciding to indulge herself to celebrate her escape from the misery of marriage, Wendy smiled and pointed. "You, you, you... All of you stay." Benny counted aloud. "One, two, three... Eight! She actually picked eight male hosts at once!" The other rich young men laughed. "Why waste money? If the angel just asked, we'd serve her for free." Everyone chuckled. Ding! Stanley's phone buzzed again with a notification. Picking it up, he glanced at it to see what Wendy had spent on this time. [Dear VVIP user, your card ending in 0975 has been charged 500,000 at 1996 Bar for eight male hosts.] Stanley froze, staring at the words before raising his eyes toward the so-called angel across the room. If that wasn't Wendy, who else could it be? Stanley was speechless. Eight male hosts surrounded Wendy, pouring drinks into her glass. "Let's play a drinking game." Cecelia clapped happily. "Yes, let's play!" In the first round, Wendy lost. One of the male hosts handed her a drink. "Please drink some." Wendy took a sip, but the other male hosts protested. "Why drink his and not ours? We want to serve you too." Surrounded by all the attention, Wendy found it impossible to keep up, overwhelmed by the 'sweet burden' of their pampering. Stanley's eyes narrowed, his handsome features tensing into a grim expression. Without a word, he stood up and strode out. Benny was taken aback. "Stanley? Where are you going?" Wendy was about to take another drink when a large, strong hand reached over, grabbed her slender wrist, and pulled her up like she was a rag doll. Startled, she looked up to see Stanley's handsome face suddenly looming over her. She froze for a second, then quickly tried to break free. "Stanley, let go of me!" His face darkened and he dragged her away without a word. Cecelia stood up. "Stanley, what are you doing? Let Wendy go!" Benny and the others were completely stunned. They stared, dumbfounded, as if they had just misheard something. "Wendy?" "That angel is Wendy?" "Is this the same ugly duckling Wendy we know?" "She's actually stunning!" As they watched Stanley drag Wendy away, her cold, ethereal beauty still lingering in their vision, Benny muttered, "Wendy, who no longer chases after Stanley, just turned into a full-blown angel!" - Stanley's grip was firm and unrelenting, like an iron shackle. No matter how much Wendy struggled, she couldn't break free. His strides were long, forcing Wendy to stumble as she tried to keep up. "Stanley, let go of me!" Finally, Stanley stopped and flung her backward. Wendy's slender frame collided against the cold wall behind her. Before she could regain her balance, Stanley's tall figure loomed over her, pressing her against the wall. His eyes burned with fury. "Wendy, do you think I'm dead, playing around like this?" Chapter 5 Wendy furrowed her brows. "What did I do?" Stanley clenched his jaw. "Who told you to dress like this?" 'What? Like this?' she wondered. "What do you mean, Stanley?!" Stanley glanced at her ultra-short skirt. "Your legs are almost exposed. Do you really want people to see your legs like this?" Wendy's skirt was a bit short, but it was Cecelia's choice. Cecelia's exact words were, "My dearest Wendy doesn't show her legs, but look at how Jessica flaunts hers. Tonight, let everyone see who has the best legs in Hovendale." Wendy raised her finely arched eyebrows. "Looks like Mr. Hawk noticed my legs." Stanley paused. Wendy leaned back against the wall, appearing languid and graceful. She slowly lifted her right leg, her crystal-high heel brushing against his ankle. Stanley had on black trousers, showcasing his long, muscular legs, exuding an aura of coldness and restraint. Wendy's pale foot gently grazed up his ankle, moving along his calf. It was an act of seduction and defiance. Stanley shot her a cold glance. "What are you doing?" Wendy curved her lips into a smile. "Mr. Hawk, which do you prefer? My legs, or Jessica's?" Stanley stared at her small, delicate face that glowed with celestial radiance, yet she seduced him with a dazzling smile. Last night, he had glimpsed the beauty hidden beneath her dark-rimmed glasses, but he hadn't expected her to be this beautiful. He felt like he had seen this face somewhere before. Wendy's clear eyes sparkled. "Mr. Hawk, has Jessica ever wrapped her legs around your waist?" Stanley's breath hitched. His handsome face moved closer to hers, his gaze softening with a tenderness Wendy had never seen before. "Wendy, are you really this shameless? All you think about is men. You even hired eight male hosts to satisfy your needs!" He didn't answer Wendy's question about Jessica. That was perhaps the best kind of protection a man could offer a woman. Their love had been so passionate, full of youthful excitement. Jessica's legs had definitely wrapped around his waist, or else why would he still remember her so fondly? Jessica was lucky to have a man like Stanley so deeply attached to her. He would never describe her as 'shameless.' Though Wendy wore a smile, her eyes remained clear and distant. "Well, Mr. Hawk, your body isn't up to par and can't satisfy me, so of course I have to go out and find men. Let's get divorced quickly. If the first man doesn't work, the next will be better." Did she actually say he was inadequate, and the next man would be better? This woman was truly asking for it. Stanley reached out, grabbing Wendy's chin. "Are you trying to provoke me? Do you really want to know if I'm up to the task?" 'What?' Wendy froze. Stanley moved closer to her lips, teasing, but with words that carried no warmth. "Dream on. I won't touch you. The one I love is Jessica." He loved Jessica. He didn't even need to say it—Wendy already knew. It stung her heart, the sharp pain spreading through her, though the ache wasn't obvious. At that moment, a sweet voice rang out. "Stanley." Wendy looked up—Jessica had arrived. Jessica, the Red Rose of Hovendale, was a beautiful woman with rosy lips and perfect teeth, her body delicate from years of ballet training. Stanley immediately released Wendy and walked toward Jessica. He lowered his gaze to meet hers, his eyes filled with a tenderness Wendy had never seen. "You're here." Jessica nodded, then turned to Wendy. "Who's this?" Jessica didn't recognize Wendy at first. However, Wendy would never forget Jessica. Wendy and Jessica were stepsisters, but from completely different parents. Harry, Wendy's father, wasn't her biological father, but her stepfather. Many years ago, Wendy had a happy family with her real father, Jerry, and her mother Lilian, who were always respectful toward each other. Her father loved her dearly, always lifting her high. "Wendy, please be happy always." Then, one day, her father suddenly passed away. Harry, Jerry's brother, moved in with his daughter Jessica. Wendy's mother became Jessica's mother as well. Her mother remarried her second uncle. Her mother loved Jessica and stopped loving her. When Jessica got an A in a test and Wendy got an A+, her mother hit her hand with a ruler. "Can't you give your sister a break? Why must you outdo her?" When Jessica fell ill and had to undergo chemotherapy, her head had to be shaved. She cried, saying she had become ugly. In response, Wendy's mother immediately shaved Wendy's head. "You should look the same as your sister so she won't cry." Every night, her mother, Jessica, and Harry would sleep together, laughing and playing. Wendy, holding the doll her late father had bought her, would stand outside their door, crying alone. "Mommy, I'm scared…" Eventually, Jessica called her mother "Mom," which made her mother incredibly happy. But then Jessica said, "A mother can only have one daughter." One rainy day, Wendy's mother took her to the countryside and left her there. Wendy chased after the car, crying uncontrollably. "Mommy, don't leave me! I'll be good, I'll always put my sister before me… Mommy, hold me… I'm scared…!" Wendy fell heavily into the muddy water while holding her doll, watching helplessly as her mother's car disappeared from view. Wendy would never forget Jessica. At that moment, Benny rushed over. "Jessica, this is…your sister, Wendy!" Jessica was stunned. "You're Wendy?" Wendy knew that Jessica had always looked down on her. When they were young, Jessica had always been the one to beat her. As Jessica grew up, she excelled in everything. Later, she even dated Stanley, the heir of the Hawk family. She grew up in a world of admiration and love, full of pride and arrogance. Benny, once again, was stunned by Wendy's ethereal beauty. He whispered, "I didn't expect Wendy to be this beautiful." Jessica's memory of their childhood was fuzzy because she had never truly paid attention to her unloved sister. But wasn't her sister the ugly duckling from the countryside? Jessica approached Wendy, glancing at her, her brow raised in haughty pride. "Wendy, I didn't expect you to start dressing like me." Wendy remained silent. 'Well, if you say so,' she thought. Wendy straightened her slender back, smiling but saying nothing. The light from the corridor illuminated her delicate, otherworldly face, making it glow like a precious pearl. She was no longer the Wendy from before. Jessica sneered. "Wendy, I heard you're getting a divorce with Stanley. Can't you live without a man? Coming to a bar to hire male hosts to fulfill your desires? If I were you, I'd get a job." As she spoke, Jessica glanced at Stanley. In a tone that seemed almost benevolent, she added, "Stanley, Wendy took care of you for so long. Even if she was your maid, you should at least find her a job." Stanley's gaze landed on Wendy's face. "Jessica, nowadays, you need a degree to get a job. What's Wendy's education?" Benny said. Jessica seemed to recall something amusing. She lifted her chin and laughed. "Wendy dropped out of school at 16." Chapter 6 Benny was stunned. '16 years old?' The reason people in Benny's social circle held Jessica in such high regard wasn't just because of her beauty. It was also because of her exceptional academic achievements. She was a high achiever at a prestigious university, someone unmatched even among Hovendale's socialites. She deserved to be with Stanley. For any woman, beauty alone was a dead end. Beauty combined with education was the real trump card. The higher the social class, the more they valued a woman's education. Benny's initial admiration for Wendy vanished instantly. His tone became dismissive. "Wendy, did you seriously drop out of school at 16?" Wendy glanced at Jessica, who stood there with pride, and smiled faintly. "Yes, I did stop studying at 16." Benny sneered, "Well, what a coincidence. Stanley also stopped studying at 16. But he's a true prodigy, earning dual master's degrees from Harfield at that age and making history. And you? Dropped out of high school with nothing to your name!" His mockery echoed loudly. Jessica stood tall, looking down at Wendy with disdain. Stanley, with his tall and imposing figure, stood silently under the corridor lights. His handsome face remained unreadable as his gaze fell on Wendy. For the past three years, Wendy had been just a housewife, revolving around him. It was no surprise she lacked education. Wendy, however, didn't seem embarrassed or flustered. Instead, her clear, luminous eyes met his gaze. Then she smiled gracefully and said, "Yes, what a coincidence." 'Indeed, what a coincidence.' For reasons he couldn't explain, Stanley felt a ripple in his heart. He suddenly noticed how beautiful Wendy's eyes were—brimming with vitality and seemingly able to speak volumes without words. "Wendy!" At that moment, Cecelia came rushing over. She glared at Jessica. "Jessica, are you bullying Wendy again?" Jessica responded proudly, "We weren't bullying Wendy. We were just discussing helping her find a job." Cecelia was stunned. "You're helping Wendy find a job?" Jessica continued her magnanimous act. "Yes. Even though Wendy lacks education and qualifications, we'll try our best to help her secure something decent." Cecelia laughed in disbelief. "Do you even know who Wendy is? Wendy is—" Wendy quickly grabbed Cecelia's arm to stop her. "Cecelia, let's go." Cecelia held back her words, but before leaving, she cast a mocking glance at Jessica. "You'll regret this someday!" With that, she led Wendy away. Benny fumed, "What's wrong with Wendy? She dropped out of school at 16 and still acts so arrogant! If I were her, I'd be too ashamed to show my face." Jessica wasn't upset. She had never truly looked at Wendy as a rival—Wendy wasn't even qualified to compete with her. Getting angry at Wendy would only lower her status. She smiled loftily at Benny. "Benny, let it go. Ignorance is bliss." Benny turned to Stanley. "Stanley, you should hurry up and divorce Wendy. She's not worthy of you." Stanley's expression remained calm as his gaze briefly lingered on Wendy's departing figure. "Let's go," he said to Jessica. Jessica nodded. "Alright." And so, Jessica and Benny left with Stanley. - Later, outside the bar... "Mr. Hawk?" a voice called out. Stanley looked up to see a familiar face. It was Dave Suarez, the president of Harfield University. Stanley approached him. "Mr. Suarez, what brings you to Hovendale?" Jessica, always respectful of such prestigious figures, greeted him as well. Although she had always excelled academically, she hadn't been able to secure a spot at a top-tier institution like Harfield. Dave smiled. "Mr. Hawk, I'm here for a seminar. What a coincidence—you have a junior alumna here in Hovendale too." Stanley paused. "A junior alumna?" Dave nodded. "Yes, Harfield has two legends. The first is you, Stanley. The second is your junior alumna. Like you, she earned dual master's degrees at 16. She's a high-IQ prodigy. Unfortunately, you were a few years apart, so you've never met her." Benny's curiosity was piqued. "Wow! Stanley's junior is that amazing? Who's better between the two of them?" Dave smiled and looked at Stanley. "They're evenly matched." Stanley raised an eyebrow. He had never encountered a woman who could be his equal. Jessica, who had been calm earlier, suddenly felt an overwhelming surge of jealousy. This mysterious prodigious junior made her feel threatened. "Who is this junior?" she wondered aloud. Dave pulled out his phone. "Mr. Hawk, I've sent you her WhatsApp contact. She's also in Hovendale. You should connect with her and look out for her since you're her senior." Stanley nodded. "Alright." After Dave left, Benny urged, "Stanley, add her WhatsApp now! I want to see what she looks like." Stanley switched on his phone and found the contact. It had a profile named simply 'W,' with a plain white background. "What does the 'W' stand for?" Benny asked excitedly. Stanley didn't know either. He sent a friend request, adding the note, "Stanley." The request was pending approval. Benny was buzzing with excitement. "Stanley, once she adds you, introduce her to me! I'm in awe of her already." Jessica, sensing the shift in attention, grew visibly unhappy. At that moment, a car pulled up. Stanley's personal secretary, Zayn Cameron, had arrived. Jessica seized the opportunity to cut the conversation short. "Stanley, the car's here. Let's go." "Stanley, Jessica, see you later," Benny said. The car glided smoothly through the city streets, the quiet, opulent interior filled with an air of calmness. The dazzling city lights outside refracted against the polished windows, creating a cinematic interplay of shadows on Stanley's chiseled face—elegant and enigmatic. From the driver's seat, Zayn glanced back respectfully. "Sir, where to?" "To the office," Stanley answered curtly. Jessica observed him quietly, love evident in her gaze. She broke the silence with a question. "Stanley, what was that with Wendy earlier? You're not interested in her now that she's grown more beautiful, are you?" Stanley turned his sharp gaze toward her, his voice nonchalant yet teasing. "She's my wife. If something were to happen, wouldn't that be normal? Wasn't it you who handed her to me in the first place?" Jessica knew he still blamed her for leaving him behind to marry Wendy three years ago while he was in a state of coma. "Stanley, it wasn't like that. Wendy insisted on marrying you—I had no choice but to let her take my place…" Stanley's piercing gaze held hers. "Do you even believe that yourself?" Jessica faltered. Biting her lower lip, she feigned defiance. "Fine! Three years ago, I abandoned you—if you can't forgive me for that, then let's just break up! You can simply get rid of me if you don't want me anymore." She turned to Zayn and ordered, "Zayn, stop the car!" Jessica wanted to get out, but before she could leave, Stanley's long, elegant fingers reached out, grabbing her delicate wrist and yanking her firmly to his chest. Jessica's soft body collided with his solid frame, and she froze. Above her, Stanley's deep, exasperated voice softened into indulgence. "Jessica, you're only this bold because you know I'd spoil you rotten." Chapter 7 Jessica smiled, her heart filled with sweetness. She leaned into Stanley's embrace, then tilted her delicate, radiant face to look up at him. "I knew it—you can't bear to let me go. You would never leave me." Stanley, as Hovendale's wealthiest man, exuded an air of elegance and strength that could dictate the rise and fall of fortunes. He fulfilled every fantasy she had about what a man should be. But three years ago, when he had been in a car accident and declared a vegetative state, with doctors pronouncing he would never wake again, how could she waste the prime of her youth on a man like that? So, she had fled. Who could have predicted that Wendy, who married him in her place, would somehow help Stanley wake up within three years? Even now, Jessica didn't understand how Stanley recovered. Could Wendy's fortune be aligned perfectly with his? Doctors called it a medical miracle. So, Jessica returned. She knew Stanley loved her—he would never truly abandon her. Stanley looked at Jessica's radiant face. "If it weren't for what happened back then… Would I still spoil you like this?" At the mention of 'back then,' Jessica froze, guilt flashing through her eyes. She quickly changed the subject. "Have you slept with Wendy?" Stanley lowered his gaze. "Why would I sleep with her when I could sleep with you?" She knew he hadn't been with Wendy, but she asked the question anyway, baiting him into a flirtatious response. He played along, his words dripping with teasing ambiguity. Jessica loved this side of him—the allure of a mature man with a touch of mischief. His response made her cheeks flush. This cold and seemingly abstinent man only made her want to strip away his layers and uncover his deeper desires. Jessica turned, boldly straddling his lean waist. She draped her arms around his neck, bringing her lips close to his. Her breath was warm and seducing. "Do you want me?" Zayn, who had worked as Stanley's secretary for years, tactfully raised the partition between the driver's seat and the back of the car. Stanley looked at Jessica but said nothing. She was wearing a red dress. In her seated position, the hem had ridden up, exposing her long, flawless legs. Those famed 'best legs in Hovendale' were now sensuously wrapped around his tailored black trousers, creating an intimate and sultry scene. Jessica tightened her legs around his waist, pulling herself closer. "Say it. Do you want me?" If he said yes, she would give herself to him right here and now. Stanley, of course, understood her intent. But at that moment, an image of Wendy's legs from earlier in the evening at the bar flashed in his mind. Wendy's legs were perfectly proportioned, balanced in their slenderness and curves. She had asked him which legs he preferred—Jessica's or hers. At the time, Wendy had playfully raised her foot, the delicate crystal chain on her stiletto heels glinting as it dangled from her dainty ankle. She had teased him with her toes, brushing against his leg and asking if Jessica's legs had ever wrapped around his waist. Stanley slowly removed Jessica's hands from his neck. "I'm still married." Jessica frowned. "So?" "I don't intend to cheat while I'm still married," Stanley replied coolly. Jessica was momentarily stunned. The intimate atmosphere vanished. Stanley had put an end to it. Disappointed, Jessica slid off his lap. She had pride, too—she would only give herself to him if he wanted her. "When will you divorce Wendy?" she asked. Stanley's gaze shifted to the cityscape outside the window. In truth, it was indeed better that Wendy initiated the divorce—he was planning for it anyway. "Soon," Stanley said, his tone detached. Wendy and Cecelia returned to their apartment. Wendy lay on her soft bed, letting out a small sigh of relief. After tonight's indulgence, it was time to return to her normal life. She pulled out her phone and opened WhatsApp. Wendy had two accounts. For the past three years, she had been using the account named "Mrs. Hawk." Now, that account had been officially retired. She logged into her other WhatsApp account. As soon as she logged in, her notification chimed repeatedly. The group chat 'One Big Happy Family' was bustling with activity. Wendy opened it. [Whoa, whoa, whoa! Wendy's finally online!] Daryl exclaimed. [Welcome back, Wendy!] Ernest added. [Big hugs to Wendy!] Samuel chimed in. Her three seniors were tossing virtual confetti, enthusiastically celebrating her return. [Three years ago, Wendy was all starry-eyed and insisted on leaving the mountains to experience life with a man. So, how was it, Wendy? Was the man worth it?] Daryl asked. [Not worth it,] Wendy replied. [Looks like Wendy had her heart broken. Haha!] Ernest wrote. [So even Wendy can't conquer everything? Hahaha!] Samuel added. [All right, you two, stop teasing her. Let's just say these three years were her trial by fire in the mortal world. Sorry, this is just too funny—I need to laugh it out. Hahaha!] Daryl typed. Wendy was speechless. She was tempted to kick all three of them out of the group. With a swift move, she renamed the group chat from 'One Big Happy Family' to 'One Big Gossipy Family.' Just then, Samuel brought up a serious topic. [Wendy, it's time for you to come back. Our surgery schedule is packed. I've booked you a tricky heart operation. Report to the naturopathy center tomorrow.] Wendy replied with an 'OK' emoji. After exiting the chat, she suddenly noticed a friend request. She tapped it open and saw that it was from Stanley. Stanley was requesting to add her as a WhatsApp contact. The irony wasn't lost on her. For three years, she had used her 'Mrs. Hawk' account to message him daily. Yet, he had never replied. Now, on her other account, he was the one reaching out to her. 'Once upon a time, you didn't care for me. Now, you'll find I'm out of your reach.' Wendy's pale, delicate fingers hovered over the keyboard. After a moment of hesitation, she tapped decisively. - At Hawk Group… The Hawk Group building, a landmark of Hovendale, controlled the city's economic pulse. It towered into the clouds, its grandeur even more striking against the night sky. After dropping Jessica off at her home, Stanley arrived at his office. He sat in his black leather chair while he reviewed documents. The sharp nib of his pen scratched across the paper as he signed his name, 'Stanley,' with bold, confident strokes. Behind him, the gleaming floor-to-ceiling windows reflected the vibrant lights of the city—a dazzling backdrop that seemed to exist solely to complement this man. A crisp-sounding notification broke the silence. His phone buzzed with a WhatsApp alert. Stanley picked up his phone and opened the app. His brilliant junior had responded. Upon seeing the response, Stanley froze for a moment. Then, his thin lips curved into a smirk and he let out a soft chuckle. Chapter 8 Stanley's genius junior had directly rejected his friend request! At that moment, Zayn walked in with a cup of coffee. When he saw the screen on Stanley's phone, he was stunned. 'Did someone actually reject the CEO's friend request?' This was certainly something out of the ordinary. "Sir, your junior is…quite special," Zayn said. Stanley scoffed. 'Special indeed.' She was the first person to reject him. If she didn't want to add him, so be it. Stanley picked up the coffee and took a sip, only to frown. "Is the coffee not to your liking, sir? I'll make another cup," Zayn asked. Stanley suddenly remembered the coffee Wendy used to make—it was always just right for his taste. With an impassive expression, Stanley said, "Write an eight-figure check. That's my divorce settlement for Wendy." She said she wanted to leave with nothing, but he didn't believe it for a second. A girl from the countryside who had stopped schooling at sixteen—how would she make a living? She was just playing hard to get, hoping for more money. This eight-figure check was enough to buy out her three years. After that, they owed each other nothing. Zayn nodded. "Yes, sir." Just then, Zayn's phone rang. He answered and was thrilled. "Sir, great news! Dr. Ceylan has accepted our request and agreed to perform the heart surgery for Miss Jessica!" Dr. Ceylan was a legendary figure in the medical world, known for her extraordinary skills. Even top-tier billionaires had to wait in line to see her. However, three years ago, Dr. Ceylan had mysteriously disappeared, and no one knew where she went. Now, she was back. Jessica had suffered from a heart disease since childhood and had undergone treatments, but nothing worked. Now, Stanley had used his immense wealth to secure Dr. Ceylan's services for Jessica. The crease between Stanley's brows finally smoothed out, and he smiled. Jessica would be saved. - The next day, Wendy arrived at the naturopathy center. Suddenly, a group of black-clad bodyguards entered in an orderly formation, creating a path. Wendy and other bystanders were pushed aside. Two young women nearby were chatting. "What's going on?" "Don't you know? Hovendale's Red Rose, the prima ballerina Jessica, felt unwell while dancing today. Mr. Hawk brought her here to see a doctor." "With Mr. Hawk around, no wonder it's such a big fuss." Wendy's lashes trembled. She hadn't expected to encounter Stanley and Jessica at the naturopathy center today. "Look, there's Mr. Hawk and Jessica!" Wendy glanced up, and Stanley's tall, handsome figure came into view. He was dressed in a custom-tailored black suit, exuding an air of elegance and dominance. He carried Jessica in his arms. Doctors and nurses from the naturopathy center flocked around them, fawning over them like stars orbiting a moon. "Mr. Hawk, this way, please." Stanley strode forward. One of the young women gushed, "Wow, Mr. Hawk is so handsome! He's the epitome of a domineering CEO." "And Jessica's so beautiful, with her fair skin and graceful ballerina aura. They truly are the perfect couple!" "A dashing, noble CEO and a delicate, enchanting dancer—ahh, I'm dying over their fairy-tale love story!" Wendy and Stanley's marriage was a secret, known only to a select few. Most people were shipping Stanley and Jessica. Wendy watched Stanley disappear from her sight. Just now, he hadn't even noticed her; his eyes were only on Jessica. She was nothing more than a supporting character in their fairy tale. Reeling in her emotions, Wendy followed her appointment instructions and found ward Number 109. Soon, she saw Stanley, Jessica, Harry, and Lilian inside. Jessica was already sitting on the hospital bed, surrounded by Harry and Lilian on either side. Just like in their childhood, they pampered Jessica like a princess. "Jessica, this is great!" Harry said happily. "Mr. Hawk managed to secure Dr. Ceylan to treat you." Lilian was moved to tears. "Jessica, you've been through so much! But now, everything will be fine. Once Dr. Ceylan cures your heart, you'll be healthy and can marry Mr. Hawk as his bride." Jessica gave Stanley a sweet smile. Stanley, tall and imposing, stood by her side, gently patting her head. The scene of the four of them together was harmonious. Wendy froze at the door. She couldn't believe how small the world was—Samuel had assigned her the heart surgery case, and it turned out to be Jessica. The heartwarming scene inside made Wendy's eyes sting slightly. At that moment, Stanley seemed to sense something. He turned, and his deep, sharp gaze landed squarely on her. Wendy was caught off guard and met his gaze. Stanley's gaze narrowed as he immediately strode over to her. "Wendy, what are you doing here?" "I…" Wendy began. Stanley's voice turned icy. "Wendy, are you following me?" "I-I'm not," Wendy replied. Harry and Lilian noticed Wendy too. "Wendy, why are you here? Today, we invited the legendary Dr. Ceylan to treat your sister! How could you come here and cause trouble at a time like this?" Lilian yelled. Harry's expression darkened. "Wendy, you're so inconsiderate. Leave immediately!" Jessica said nothing. She sat on the bed, her gaze haughty and radiant as she glanced at Wendy. At that moment, Stanley's imposing figure leaned closer. He grabbed Wendy's slender arm. His voice was cold and dismissive. "Wendy, are you still playing hard to get? Have you not had enough of this? Now you're resorting to stalking? Stop wasting your time on me. Leave!" Chapter 9 No one welcomed her arrival—they were all trying to push her away. Wendy found it laughable. Her cold, sharp eyes swept across Lilian, Jessica, and Harry's faces before she yanked her arm out of Stanley's grip. A faint smile tugged at her lips as she said, "Fine, I'll leave." 'Remember this—it was you who told me to go!' With that, Wendy turned and walked away. Soon after, she came back. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she asked, "Mr. Hawk, do you know why I came to the naturopathy center today?" Stanley's gaze fell on her flawless, porcelain-like face, her soft peach fuzz catching the light, making her beauty even more striking. Stanley's expression was cold, and it was clear he didn't care. His voice was harsh and distant. "Wendy, this is getting annoying." Wendy stepped forward with a dazzling smile. "I'm here to help you find a naturopath." She pulled a small card out of her pocket and handed it to him. "Here, this is for you." Stanley looked down at the slightly yellowed card, which looked like something someone might slip through a door crack. The card read, "Traditional Naturopath – Specializing in ED, and helping you rediscover your manhood. Contact: 138..8888" Stanley's usually stoic face cracked ever so slightly. Wendy slipped the card into his suit pocket. "Jessica has a problem. Mr. Hawk, don't you as well? You both should really get yourselves checked out." She turned and walked away without waiting for a response. Stanley's hand, hanging by his side, clenched into a fist. This woman always managed to push his buttons. Jessica broke the silence. "Stanley, let it go. Wendy isn't worth our time." Lilian nodded. "Right. Why isn't Dr. Ceylan here yet?" Everyone grew tense at the mention of Dr. Ceylan, who was Jessica's last hope. Stanley glanced at his watch. The appointment time had passed, but Dr. Ceylan hadn't arrived. Just then, a nurse walked in. "Mr. Hawk." Jessica, Harry, and Lilian perked up. "Is Dr. Ceylan here?" The nurse addressed Stanley. "Dr. Ceylan arrived earlier but has already left." 'What?' Stanley looked down the hallway but didn't see anyone—only Wendy disappearing around a corner. Stanley frowned. "I didn't see Dr. Ceylan." The nurse explained, "Dr. Ceylan came, but decided not to stay." "Why?" Jessica, Harry, and Lilian's expressions changed instantly. "Why would Dr. Ceylan leave without helping Jessica?" The nurse apologized, "I'm sorry, but Dr. Ceylan refused to treat Miss Jessica." Jessica's face went pale. Dr. Ceylan wouldn't treat her? Why? Their earlier hope was doused like a bucket of cold water. Everyone was stunned. Jessica lost it. "Why won't Dr. Ceylan treat me? Why?" Harry and Lilian immediately comforted her. "Jessica, don't get upset. We'll figure something out and bring Dr. Ceylan back. You'll be okay!" Stanley's sharp features hardened. He stared down the empty hallway, his aura radiating danger. Outside the hospital, someone called out, "Wendy." Wendy paused and turned around slowly. It was Lilian, who had followed her out. Lilian approached her. "Wendy, this is for you." Wendy glanced down—it was a check for 20,000. "Wendy, Mr. Hawk doesn't love you. Stop clinging to him and give him back to your sister. Why can't you let her have him? Just divorce him and take this money to start fresh in the countryside," Lilian said. Wendy found it absurd. If she hadn't secretly done a DNA test on Lilian and Jessica, she might have believed Jessica was Lilian's biological daughter. Yet, that wasn't the case. Lilian was only Jessica's stepmother. However, Lilian adored Jessica and not Wendy, her actual daughter. Wendy knew Lilian was obsessed with Harry, which explained her bias. Wendy's gaze was calm as she looked at Lilian. She smiled faintly. "So, being Mrs. Hawk is only worth this much to you? Or is that all I'm worth in your eyes?" Lilian froze, then hurriedly said, "Wendy, I'm your mother, and I'm doing this for your good. You don't belong here…" 'Mother?' The word sounded foreign, and Wendy laughed softly. "You already sent me to the countryside once, and now you want to do it again. You really are a great mother!" Wendy didn't look at Lilian again. She stepped into a taxi and left. Lilian stood frozen, watching Wendy's taxi leave. Just then, someone approached. "Mrs. Crone." Lilian turned to see Ted Whalen, the head of the naturopathy center. Lilian immediately approached him. "Dr. Whalen, you have so many connections. Can you help us get Dr. Ceylan to treat Jessica?" Dr. Whalen smiled. "Mrs. Crone, I know Dr. Ceylan personally. I can make the introduction." Lilian's face lit up. "Really? Thank you so much, Dr. Whalen." Dr. Whalen's gaze shifted to where Wendy had disappeared. A sly smile tugged at his lips. "Mrs. Crone, was that your daughter who came back from the countryside? She's stunning. For a second, I thought I'd seen an angel." Lilian's expression turned cold, her earlier excitement fading into icy indifference.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17748&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	374	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	beokn.com	IMAGE		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17748&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476906731_972093147773421_7231810959366395711_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=JRnWmIXZe4MQ7kNvgEDm1Tz&_nc_oc=Adg6FXyuC47JnY75MsfYHTV0GeqQ5KYTgMmD4uC0OSOSDHeAOQCzX27lVLcjwIdYHR_snXB_8mNPGRoQYi0vvkQY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AVGLc1w2KmxXZCqO1VqRaE0&oh=00_AYDovIY-xdwi42j8kyqiQuXXIlbdr2lomj1O9sfvQCck1Q&oe=67C9EB8D	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,725,690	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2725668}'	Yes	2025-03-02 01:48	active	2672	Overcome Procrastination Naturally	Overcoming procrastination doesn’t have to be hard! Created by a team of psychologists and behavioral change experts, Brainway is designed to: 1️⃣ Identify your unique “Procrastination Type” 2️⃣ Reveal the unique “Trigger Point” that makes you procrastinate 3️⃣ Provide personalized, simple, and effective strategies to help you stop putting things off 🏆 And let you join thousands of people enjoying 100% stress-free productivity with Brainway! 🔥 Take a short quiz and see how Brainway can help you break free from procrastination & embrace your natural productivity today!👇	LEARN_MORE	https://brainway.app/start?qz=pro1&locale=EN_US	Brainway App	https://www.facebook.com/61551442591062/	23,454	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	brainway.app	VIDEO		https://brainway.app/start?qz=pro1&locale=EN_US	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470673685_572053979026340_4450982043249003339_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ZUU-C4ZgSTEQ7kNvgHrhVEf&_nc_oc=Adg3HbOEs6JZxFsJKzVvzs1bzpafNLhwNJk896Mu1hSjnGidAW-0mlIje3bRO56HvlQDEKzv6oP05JqFvADzvPmQ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A7ty8rpD2VQiQteafREr12F&oh=00_AYDES62K2vWnFfCivx_Qk4WdISbe-eVGWhmmVrQbmH43iA&oe=67C9CF2B	PERSON_PROFILE	Brainway App	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,725,648	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2725643}'	Yes	2025-03-02 01:48	active	2672	Rewire Your ADHD Brain & Unlock Your Potential	Effecto.app helps people take control of ADHD, create structure in life, manage overwhelm, get more done & be more confident. Take a Free ADHD quiz to find out how.	LEARN_MORE	https://effecto.app/start?lp=ad5&locale=EN_US	Top 5 apps for ADHD	https://www.facebook.com/61560333209544/	206	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	effecto.app	IMAGE		https://effecto.app/start?lp=ad5&locale=EN_US	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/453064834_427431006958460_8740930296153028046_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=svhrryMnGzYQ7kNvgHx1hbU&_nc_oc=AdhTmIwWEikPtA7s_DjlkzuMDHyUo1JljXjhhZ95-ReylcRR_-tYFbW7hEUxxzYT51jGXMymSiNIh7HYaTQQauR-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AA_eML4xwIyap2ok89MfUZc&oh=00_AYBM8ZsVJw1l4SqTIcjKiFt0BFPvBrF5PCEaK1GA96vUCQ&oe=67C9F199	PERSON_PROFILE	Top 5 apps for ADHD	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,725,863	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2725855}'	Yes	2025-03-02 01:48	active	2672	😍Read the next chapters👉	It was dinner time. Dad glanced at his daughter, who was eating quietly, then frowned as his gaze fell on the empty seat at the end of the table. "Where's that worthless girl gone? Does she expect us all to wait for her?" His tone sharpened as he continued, "Looks like she needs to be punished harder!" The butler, pausing mid-motion as he set down the dishes, answered cautiously, "Mr. Stiles, Miss Jennifer is still in the storage closet. Would you like me to release her?" Dad's hand froze mid-air. His eyes flickered briefly toward the storage closet, a flash of shock crossing his face. He recovered quickly, lifting his wine glass for a sip. "For what? Maybe a few more days in there will teach her a lesson better. Otherwise, she would bully her siblings again." The butler glanced at the two children seated at the table, their cheeks rosy with health and their eyes bright with anticipation for the meal. Internally, he pitied the eldest daughter, who was still locked away. After a brief hesitation, he ventured cautiously, "Mr. Stiles… the storage closet has been quite… quiet these past few days. "Perhaps you should take a look?" Dad put his glass down with a clink and glared at the butler. "She's been in there long enough to tire herself out from screaming. "There's food, water, and air conditioning in there. If she still won't admit her faults, then she doesn't deserve to be let out." The butler seemed to have more to say, but Dad cut him off sharply. "That's enough. We're eating dinner here. Let's not ruin the mood." He waved dismissively before adding, "After dinner, you can ask her if she's willing to apologize. If she apologizes to her sister, she can come out, and the punishment's over." As if I had already been erased from his mind, Dad turned his attention to his son Ian and adopted daughter Wendy. He reached out, placing a peeled prawn into Wendy's bowl. "What's wrong, Wendy? Why aren't you eating? "You love prawns, right? Eat more." He ruffled her hair affectionately. "Are you scared? "Don't worry. I've already punished Jennifer. She'll never dare bully you again." Wendy looked up, her innocent smile shining. "I know you love me the most, Dad. "Honestly, as long as she apologizes, I'll forgive her… "But now that she's being punished, I'm worried she'll hate me even more." "She wouldn't dare!" Dad growled, his anger unmistakable. Then his expression softened as he smiled at her gently. "You're my favorite daughter. She wouldn't dare hate you." Ian grinned and chimed in reassuringly, "Don't worry, Wendy! I'll protect you! I'll chop her hands off if she ever dares to bully you again!" I couldn't suppress a laugh at the irony of Dad's words, but Ian's declaration sent a chill through me. I hadn't expected my brother to make such a horrifying promise, and the cruelty in his eyes told me he wasn't joking. It was bone-chilling. I laughed aloud, but it was a shame no one heard me. I was dead. My spirit had only been able to leave the storage room after I died. Since then, I'd been drifting, watching everything unfold from above. From my bird's eye view, I could see how the storage room door had been sealed. The only ventilation—a small hole—had been blocked with a towel. The storage room had become my coffin. I hadn't been buried alive, but I might as well have been. Chapter 2 Even now, as a spirit, just the sight of the sealed-off storage room door made me feel suffocated. It was as if the darkness would engulf me again at any moment. I staggered backward and quickly made my way to the dining room. There, Dad and Ian surrounded Wendy, their voices soft and comforting. Dad had his arm wrapped protectively around her. “You’ve lost weight recently, Wendy. You should eat more. “I know what happened last time must’ve scared you. It’s only right Jennifer gets punished for what she’s done. “I’ve gone easy on her this time, but don’t worry. I’ll make sure she knows her mistake. That’ll never happen to you again.” Ian chimed in, his tone gentle. “You’re my one and only sister, Wendy…” I stood silently behind them, listening as my father reprimanded me as if I weren’t there, and my brother denied my very existence as his sister. I wanted to cry, but no tears came. By blood, they were my only family. Yet, to them, it felt like I didn’t exist. Being tied up and thrown into that dark storage room had been torture. Yet to Dad, it seemed a fair punishment for the few minutes Wendy had spent in there. The silence and pitch-black darkness terrified me, but there was no escape. I’d gone mad, struggling against the ropes. I had to break a finger just to free myself from their binds. I banged on the door with every ounce of strength I had. I screamed, begged to be released, promised to apologize, and prayed desperately to survive. It was all in vain. All I received in response was my father’s mocking voice. “Scared already? Didn’t it occur to you that Wendy was scared too when you locked her in here?! She’s younger than you! “Stay here and shut up. You should feel how terrified Wendy was. Let’s see if you’ll dare bully your sister again after this. “And you call yourself her older sister? Hmph!” In desperation, I clawed at the door, trying to tear even the smallest slit, a tiny hole to let in air or light. My fingers bled, my nails broke, but it was all for nothing. Hopeless, I let the darkness swallow me. In my daze, I thought I heard Wendy’s voice. “It must be freezing in there, Jennifer. Don’t worry, I’ll make it warm soon.” Then I realized with horror that the air conditioning had been switched to heating mode. It was summer, and the storage room was already unbearably stuffy. As the temperature rose, the room became a sauna—a private Hell. I crawled through the oppressive heat, desperately searching for water to cool myself, only to discover that the food and water in the room had been replaced with trash. I collapsed onto the floor, helpless. Pain blurred my senses. Slowly, my consciousness began to fade. Chapter 3 After ensuring Wendy had eaten enough and was smiling happily again, Dad finally addressed the butler. "Go let Jennifer out. Make sure she's cleaned up and presentable, or she'll ruin everyone's appetite." His expression carried an air of self-satisfaction, as though letting me out of the storage closet after a week was some grand act of generosity. The butler quickly called for others to handle the task. Standing beside Dad, Wendy held his hand with a sweet, innocent smile. "Dad, please don't scold her when she comes out, okay? "She's your daughter, after all… I am not, and I'm just happy enough that you're so kind to me." Dad's eyes softened as he ruffled her hair lovingly. "You're both my daughters. However, you're my little princess." His voice carried a note of pride as he added, "You're too kind, Wendy. I've been far too lenient with Jennifer. "Don't worry. I won't let her bully you ever again. "How dare she lock you in the storage room at all?! I can't even imagine how scared you must have felt." His tone was laced with anger and disappointment, as though I were some irredeemable sinner. I couldn't help but laugh ironically. Wendy had staged the entire incident. And yet, here they were, two fools playing into her hands. A week ago, she had barged into my room, her voice dripping with malice. "I heard you applied to stay in a dorm? "You're an idiot if you think that'll make Dad pay attention to you. "All I need to do is say one word, and I can make them hate you forever. "Without you, I'll be Dad's only daughter, Ian's only sister. Everything you own will belong to me." I refused to waste my energy on her antics and simply shut the door in her face. Fifteen minutes later, she went to the storage room and started banging on the door, shouting as though someone had locked her inside. When Ian returned from his extracurricular class, he immediately "rescued" her from the storage room. Then Wendy made her move. She called Dad, her voice trembling with feigned fear. "Dad, I was so scared. "I know Jennifer doesn't like me, but I didn't think she'd lock me in the storage room. It was so terrifying. "I know I'm not related to you by blood, and it's only fair that Jennifer doesn't like me, but it was so dark in there. "Maybe you should send me back to the orphanage, Dad. Then Jennifer wouldn't feel so angry about my existence anymore." Chapter 4 Dad was in the middle of a meeting when he received the call. Without a second thought, he rushed home. As soon as he arrived, he carried a pale Wendy and roared, "You are my daughter, Wendy. No one can send you away! "Don't say a word about leaving again." At first, I thought something serious had happened, but when I stepped out of my room and saw the scene before me, the bitter irony wasn't lost on me. I was speechless. Wendy was no delicate porcelain doll, nor was she afraid of the dark. A short time in the storage room hardly warranted such theatrics. That was until Ian shouted, "It's all Jennifer's fault! She's the one who locked Wendy in the storage room! Who knows how long she would've been trapped if I hadn't come back!" Dad stormed upstairs, dragged me out of my room by my hair, and shoved me into the storage closet. Tying me up, he raged, and in that moment, I finally understood—this family had no place for me. "How could you be so evil, Jennifer?!" Ian yelled, his eyes blazing with anger. "How could you lock Wendy up? She's just a girl! Do you even know how scared she must have been? You're not my sister anymore! I refuse to have someone so evil as my sister!" "Ian is right," Dad growled, his glare cutting through me like a knife. "How could you be so heartless at such a young age? You're hopeless. "This is my house, and you have no right to order anyone around here. "You like locking Wendy in the storage closet, huh? Fine! Then you can stay in there until you understand how it feels! "You won't be allowed out until you're truly sorry for what you've done." Even now, Dad believed it was all my fault. He would accept nothing less than my complete submission—me on my knees, sobbing and begging for forgiveness. Too bad. They'd never hear that from me. The butler's trembling voice cut through the tension. "Mr. Stiles… Mr. Stiles! Miss Jennifer… is dead!" Dad's hand froze midair, hovering above Wendy's head. I stared at him, refusing to miss even the faintest flicker of emotion. Was it regret I was hoping for? Or fear? There was none. Instead, he smiled faintly and sighed in annoyance. "How dare she. "Dead? As if." Shaking his head, he added coldly, "I know my daughter. She'd do anything to survive. "Tell her to stop playing games before I call the crematorium. Then she'll really be dead." The butler stood frozen, clearly shocked. "What are you waiting for?" Dad snapped. "You have thirty minutes to get her cleaned up and ready to apologize to Wendy. Or else, you can leave with her!" "Mr. Stiles…" The butler hesitated, his voice faltering. "Get on with it!" Dad snarled, throwing the dessert in his hand—meant for Wendy—at the butler. The butler had no choice but to retreat. Dad turned back to Wendy with a smile, wiping her mouth tenderly. "We're out of dessert. Why don't we eat something else, hmm? "Wendy, when Jennifer apologizes to you later, don't forgive her too quickly, alright? "She better kneel and beg for your forgiveness before you even think about it. You're too kind to her. "You can't be too nice. Remember my words, Wendy." Wendy smirked faintly but then replaced it with an anxious, innocent expression. "I'm sure she's sorry, Dad. "She'd be so sad if I didn't forgive her…" "You're too kind, Wendy," Dad said with pride. Ian wrapped an arm around Wendy's body, smiling contentedly. What a picture-perfect, loving family. This was my so-called blood-related family. I smirked at the cruel irony and tried to move away, only to realize that I couldn't. My body was still there, binding me to this place. I had no choice but to watch as they acted all lovely-dovey in front of me, a grotesque display of affection that only deepened the bitterness in my heart. Chapter 5 Things weren't always like this, not before Wendy came into our lives. Back then, I still had a mother and father who loved me, and Ian was just a little boy. Ian and I would play together, Mom would tell me bedtime stories, and Dad would take me on walks in the park. Everything changed three summers ago. Mom and Dad left for the ancestral home while Ian and I stayed behind for school. A few days later, Dad returned with two pieces of devastating news. Mom had been in a car accident at the ancestral home. She didn't survive. And before her death, she and Dad had adopted the daughter of an old friend. I lost my mother but gained a sister. At first, I welcomed Wendy. I thought of her as the last connection I had to Mom since Mom had adopted her before the accident. I wanted a sister, too, so I did my best to care for her. I made sure no one at school bullied her, keeping an eye out for trouble in her class. I helped her with homework and took care of her whenever she was sick. I gave her everything I could as a sister, treating her like she was my own blood. However, one day, everything changed. I had gone to her class to bring her burn ointment, only to overhear her talking to her classmates. "My sister burned me by accident," she said, her voice soft and pitiful. "It's my fault—I shouldn't have brought her such a hot drink. "Please don't say bad things about her. She's really nice to me. She asks me to do chores and serve her tea, but she's never bullied me." I stood frozen, stunned by the lies. The burn on her hand wasn't my doing. She'd wanted to make coffee for Dad but claimed I had forced her to serve me hot tea. Dad had already punished me for her injury, yet I hadn't blamed her. I felt guilty for letting her into the kitchen in the first place. After hearing her lies, I confronted her at school. That day marked a turning point in my life—or maybe the change had started long before. Dad stopped doting on me. Ian no longer followed me around like my little shadow. I became an outsider in my own home, the person everyone vented their frustrations on. As I recalled the past three years, my body shuddered. Perhaps it was because the spirit itself was numb, but it felt like I had returned to the storage closet again. Chapter 6 My father's expression darkened as the half-hour mark passed, and I still hadn't appeared. "It's already been thirty minutes! What? Does she think I can't do anything to her?! "What a stubborn girl! She still doesn't understand what she's done wrong! "Hmph! I'd like to see what tricks she has up her sleeve!" In a fit of anger, he threw the teacup in his hand onto the ground, the sharp crack echoing through the room. I watched silently from behind, amused. Beneath his anger, there was a flicker of worry, though he'd never admit it. I couldn't help but snicker when he knocked into a chair as he stood up. "Wait here for me, Wendy. I'll drag Jennifer over to apologize." He stormed toward the storage room, his steps heavy with frustration. Just as he neared the door, a rat darted out, causing him to jolt in surprise. "What's going on? Where did that rat come from?!" The butler stood pale-faced by the door, his expression twisted in a grimace as he turned away. "Mr. Stiles… Perhaps you should take a look for yourself." I watched as my father stiffened, his movements robotic as he approached the storage closet. His gaze fell inside, landing on my corpse. I must admit, I was curious to see his reaction. Would it shock him? Would he finally feel remorse? Instead, he roared, "Jennifer Stiles! What the heck is this?! Get out here right now, or I'll lock you in that closet forever!" Tsk. I clicked my tongue beside him, my spectral form floating nearby. 'You should've come while I was still alive if you wanted to see me. 'I wanted to come out too, you know. Look at my hands. I was banging on that door until my dying breath. My fingers are all broken. 'Surely, my death must bring you satisfaction, hmm? 'You killed me.' My father, oblivious to my voice, leaned into the closet for a better look. That's when he truly saw it—what was left of my rat-eaten corpse lying in the middle of the storage room, surrounded by scurrying vermin. "Ah!" he gasped, stumbling back. The sudden noise startled the rats, sending them scampering. A few even leaped onto him, climbing up his body. He shrieked in shock, frantically swatting and shaking them off. The absurdity of the scene made me laugh aloud. It was rare to see him in such a humiliating state. If only I could record this moment on video. It would've made for a masterpiece.	LEARN_MORE	https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	374	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-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476150442_1739067599986675_2966257246497511099_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ruTo_x-Pss8Q7kNvgF5LwgP&_nc_oc=AdjlTHjyoW38uSeAp4Ay6qRk8geBgfF6hCfb3lawYEHHUjMnIuw7uZDUDFioqeQs0rPFITpAfpqtpv828hVj1uvd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMhbvJLx2ly2oyAmGobY3fb&oh=00_AYB4vYirarkjGyNfRIxrjAIPfV2W8FdyAWnLAghl4b1UDg&oe=67C9C2B9	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,725,670	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2725668}'	Yes	2025-03-02 01:48	active	2672	Overcome Procrastination Naturally	Overcoming procrastination doesn’t have to be hard! Created by a team of psychologists and behavioral change experts, Brainway is designed to: 1️⃣ Identify your unique “Procrastination Type” 2️⃣ Reveal the unique “Trigger Point” that makes you procrastinate 3️⃣ Provide personalized, simple, and effective strategies to help you stop putting things off 🏆 And let you join thousands of people enjoying 100% stress-free productivity with Brainway! 🔥 Take a short quiz and see how Brainway can help you break free from procrastination & embrace your natural productivity today!👇	LEARN_MORE	https://brainway.app/start?qz=pro1&locale=EN_US	Brainway App	https://www.facebook.com/61551442591062/	23,454	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	brainway.app	VIDEO		https://brainway.app/start?qz=pro1&locale=EN_US	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465790491_1694848161370673_2147163626124177661_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iU7und5xlawQ7kNvgHVW0E7&_nc_oc=AdiTP7RtDjMdPMxqagNh2Aw0mdTfzNmWvEjkeS5k2oBURPjUf8H3iDadSQ2mVTjUBxrcJWo3dlZaSipxVvSsXcfl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A6MxCANvNqBpobun-Zp_m-B&oh=00_AYApLZq2R41dxChBndSvy6JL8s7vYCRwXCZQ1pCPRxXl9Q&oe=67C9E548	PERSON_PROFILE	Brainway App	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,726,275	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-02 01:48	active	2672	Read next chapter	To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blde. "You're the one who climbed into my bd back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi*ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his bdmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my bd, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in bd. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her chst. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red mrk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my bd too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You bch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame graning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e	Popular romance stories	https://www.facebook.com/100083149047490/	17,999	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	IMAGE		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0130-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=673595984708315&exdata=E7C53BDECE0DE88B442000C4CDE41AB3ADFC1F8CE891BBAE	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475635186_625642559958841_8542119154104872155_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=8nLdSzfPgEsQ7kNvgEwzFoe&_nc_oc=AdjplIiiZ5hKTKepuTbxK6nm4sG80xs6_00zoU1hTJ8Ok6R7x25DcXXqGoD1PK9yBci72lZQoWdgWfrP4_wRbahX&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A1X3UpEagot5HpDIMpt27cV&oh=00_AYBxASfAVvQM2JE8H3dRYrk-ccw66pob3F2BVbdJIsXZyg&oe=67C9F154	PERSON_PROFILE	Popular romance stories	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,725,681	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2725668}'	Yes	2025-03-02 01:48	active	2672	Overcome Procrastination Naturally	Overcoming procrastination doesn’t have to be hard! Created by a team of psychologists and behavioral change experts, Brainway is designed to: 1️⃣ Identify your unique “Procrastination Type” 2️⃣ Reveal the unique “Trigger Point” that makes you procrastinate 3️⃣ Provide personalized, simple, and effective strategies to help you stop putting things off 🏆 And let you join thousands of people enjoying 100% stress-free productivity with Brainway! 🔥 Take a short quiz and see how Brainway can help you break free from procrastination & embrace your natural productivity today!👇	LEARN_MORE	https://brainway.app/start?qz=pro1&locale=EN_US	Brainway App	https://www.facebook.com/61551442591062/	23,454	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	brainway.app	VIDEO		https://brainway.app/start?qz=pro1&locale=EN_US	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465572954_1067244724693655_6969392312662757206_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dmrF475MumwQ7kNvgH9IIBR&_nc_oc=Adhu13SjzRvkTlWk0_1MC0zAeWLbO_S-bZNPGp9yCUkfDtpPVPyxN2xMh-GGKX2vf0xWRoPco2eStJKQTwd0krb0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7ty8rpD2VQiQteafREr12F&oh=00_AYCum9SOuanNQGrR6hJ0gi2fgRCzIAkUbRhlSkp_I02pFg&oe=67C9D6EF	PERSON_PROFILE	Brainway App	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,725,860	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2725855}'	Yes	2025-03-02 01:48	active	2672	😍Read the next chapters👉	It was dinner time. Dad glanced at his daughter, who was eating quietly, then frowned as his gaze fell on the empty seat at the end of the table. "Where's that worthless girl gone? Does she expect us all to wait for her?" His tone sharpened as he continued, "Looks like she needs to be punished harder!" The butler, pausing mid-motion as he set down the dishes, answered cautiously, "Mr. Stiles, Miss Jennifer is still in the storage closet. Would you like me to release her?" Dad's hand froze mid-air. His eyes flickered briefly toward the storage closet, a flash of shock crossing his face. He recovered quickly, lifting his wine glass for a sip. "For what? Maybe a few more days in there will teach her a lesson better. Otherwise, she would bully her siblings again." The butler glanced at the two children seated at the table, their cheeks rosy with health and their eyes bright with anticipation for the meal. Internally, he pitied the eldest daughter, who was still locked away. After a brief hesitation, he ventured cautiously, "Mr. Stiles… the storage closet has been quite… quiet these past few days. "Perhaps you should take a look?" Dad put his glass down with a clink and glared at the butler. "She's been in there long enough to tire herself out from screaming. "There's food, water, and air conditioning in there. If she still won't admit her faults, then she doesn't deserve to be let out." The butler seemed to have more to say, but Dad cut him off sharply. "That's enough. We're eating dinner here. Let's not ruin the mood." He waved dismissively before adding, "After dinner, you can ask her if she's willing to apologize. If she apologizes to her sister, she can come out, and the punishment's over." As if I had already been erased from his mind, Dad turned his attention to his son Ian and adopted daughter Wendy. He reached out, placing a peeled prawn into Wendy's bowl. "What's wrong, Wendy? Why aren't you eating? "You love prawns, right? Eat more." He ruffled her hair affectionately. "Are you scared? "Don't worry. I've already punished Jennifer. She'll never dare bully you again." Wendy looked up, her innocent smile shining. "I know you love me the most, Dad. "Honestly, as long as she apologizes, I'll forgive her… "But now that she's being punished, I'm worried she'll hate me even more." "She wouldn't dare!" Dad growled, his anger unmistakable. Then his expression softened as he smiled at her gently. "You're my favorite daughter. She wouldn't dare hate you." Ian grinned and chimed in reassuringly, "Don't worry, Wendy! I'll protect you! I'll chop her hands off if she ever dares to bully you again!" I couldn't suppress a laugh at the irony of Dad's words, but Ian's declaration sent a chill through me. I hadn't expected my brother to make such a horrifying promise, and the cruelty in his eyes told me he wasn't joking. It was bone-chilling. I laughed aloud, but it was a shame no one heard me. I was dead. My spirit had only been able to leave the storage room after I died. Since then, I'd been drifting, watching everything unfold from above. From my bird's eye view, I could see how the storage room door had been sealed. The only ventilation—a small hole—had been blocked with a towel. The storage room had become my coffin. I hadn't been buried alive, but I might as well have been. Chapter 2 Even now, as a spirit, just the sight of the sealed-off storage room door made me feel suffocated. It was as if the darkness would engulf me again at any moment. I staggered backward and quickly made my way to the dining room. There, Dad and Ian surrounded Wendy, their voices soft and comforting. Dad had his arm wrapped protectively around her. “You’ve lost weight recently, Wendy. You should eat more. “I know what happened last time must’ve scared you. It’s only right Jennifer gets punished for what she’s done. “I’ve gone easy on her this time, but don’t worry. I’ll make sure she knows her mistake. That’ll never happen to you again.” Ian chimed in, his tone gentle. “You’re my one and only sister, Wendy…” I stood silently behind them, listening as my father reprimanded me as if I weren’t there, and my brother denied my very existence as his sister. I wanted to cry, but no tears came. By blood, they were my only family. Yet, to them, it felt like I didn’t exist. Being tied up and thrown into that dark storage room had been torture. Yet to Dad, it seemed a fair punishment for the few minutes Wendy had spent in there. The silence and pitch-black darkness terrified me, but there was no escape. I’d gone mad, struggling against the ropes. I had to break a finger just to free myself from their binds. I banged on the door with every ounce of strength I had. I screamed, begged to be released, promised to apologize, and prayed desperately to survive. It was all in vain. All I received in response was my father’s mocking voice. “Scared already? Didn’t it occur to you that Wendy was scared too when you locked her in here?! She’s younger than you! “Stay here and shut up. You should feel how terrified Wendy was. Let’s see if you’ll dare bully your sister again after this. “And you call yourself her older sister? Hmph!” In desperation, I clawed at the door, trying to tear even the smallest slit, a tiny hole to let in air or light. My fingers bled, my nails broke, but it was all for nothing. Hopeless, I let the darkness swallow me. In my daze, I thought I heard Wendy’s voice. “It must be freezing in there, Jennifer. Don’t worry, I’ll make it warm soon.” Then I realized with horror that the air conditioning had been switched to heating mode. It was summer, and the storage room was already unbearably stuffy. As the temperature rose, the room became a sauna—a private Hell. I crawled through the oppressive heat, desperately searching for water to cool myself, only to discover that the food and water in the room had been replaced with trash. I collapsed onto the floor, helpless. Pain blurred my senses. Slowly, my consciousness began to fade. Chapter 3 After ensuring Wendy had eaten enough and was smiling happily again, Dad finally addressed the butler. "Go let Jennifer out. Make sure she's cleaned up and presentable, or she'll ruin everyone's appetite." His expression carried an air of self-satisfaction, as though letting me out of the storage closet after a week was some grand act of generosity. The butler quickly called for others to handle the task. Standing beside Dad, Wendy held his hand with a sweet, innocent smile. "Dad, please don't scold her when she comes out, okay? "She's your daughter, after all… I am not, and I'm just happy enough that you're so kind to me." Dad's eyes softened as he ruffled her hair lovingly. "You're both my daughters. However, you're my little princess." His voice carried a note of pride as he added, "You're too kind, Wendy. I've been far too lenient with Jennifer. "Don't worry. I won't let her bully you ever again. "How dare she lock you in the storage room at all?! I can't even imagine how scared you must have felt." His tone was laced with anger and disappointment, as though I were some irredeemable sinner. I couldn't help but laugh ironically. Wendy had staged the entire incident. And yet, here they were, two fools playing into her hands. A week ago, she had barged into my room, her voice dripping with malice. "I heard you applied to stay in a dorm? "You're an idiot if you think that'll make Dad pay attention to you. "All I need to do is say one word, and I can make them hate you forever. "Without you, I'll be Dad's only daughter, Ian's only sister. Everything you own will belong to me." I refused to waste my energy on her antics and simply shut the door in her face. Fifteen minutes later, she went to the storage room and started banging on the door, shouting as though someone had locked her inside. When Ian returned from his extracurricular class, he immediately "rescued" her from the storage room. Then Wendy made her move. She called Dad, her voice trembling with feigned fear. "Dad, I was so scared. "I know Jennifer doesn't like me, but I didn't think she'd lock me in the storage room. It was so terrifying. "I know I'm not related to you by blood, and it's only fair that Jennifer doesn't like me, but it was so dark in there. "Maybe you should send me back to the orphanage, Dad. Then Jennifer wouldn't feel so angry about my existence anymore." Chapter 4 Dad was in the middle of a meeting when he received the call. Without a second thought, he rushed home. As soon as he arrived, he carried a pale Wendy and roared, "You are my daughter, Wendy. No one can send you away! "Don't say a word about leaving again." At first, I thought something serious had happened, but when I stepped out of my room and saw the scene before me, the bitter irony wasn't lost on me. I was speechless. Wendy was no delicate porcelain doll, nor was she afraid of the dark. A short time in the storage room hardly warranted such theatrics. That was until Ian shouted, "It's all Jennifer's fault! She's the one who locked Wendy in the storage room! Who knows how long she would've been trapped if I hadn't come back!" Dad stormed upstairs, dragged me out of my room by my hair, and shoved me into the storage closet. Tying me up, he raged, and in that moment, I finally understood—this family had no place for me. "How could you be so evil, Jennifer?!" Ian yelled, his eyes blazing with anger. "How could you lock Wendy up? She's just a girl! Do you even know how scared she must have been? You're not my sister anymore! I refuse to have someone so evil as my sister!" "Ian is right," Dad growled, his glare cutting through me like a knife. "How could you be so heartless at such a young age? You're hopeless. "This is my house, and you have no right to order anyone around here. "You like locking Wendy in the storage closet, huh? Fine! Then you can stay in there until you understand how it feels! "You won't be allowed out until you're truly sorry for what you've done." Even now, Dad believed it was all my fault. He would accept nothing less than my complete submission—me on my knees, sobbing and begging for forgiveness. Too bad. They'd never hear that from me. The butler's trembling voice cut through the tension. "Mr. Stiles… Mr. Stiles! Miss Jennifer… is dead!" Dad's hand froze midair, hovering above Wendy's head. I stared at him, refusing to miss even the faintest flicker of emotion. Was it regret I was hoping for? Or fear? There was none. Instead, he smiled faintly and sighed in annoyance. "How dare she. "Dead? As if." Shaking his head, he added coldly, "I know my daughter. She'd do anything to survive. "Tell her to stop playing games before I call the crematorium. Then she'll really be dead." The butler stood frozen, clearly shocked. "What are you waiting for?" Dad snapped. "You have thirty minutes to get her cleaned up and ready to apologize to Wendy. Or else, you can leave with her!" "Mr. Stiles…" The butler hesitated, his voice faltering. "Get on with it!" Dad snarled, throwing the dessert in his hand—meant for Wendy—at the butler. The butler had no choice but to retreat. Dad turned back to Wendy with a smile, wiping her mouth tenderly. "We're out of dessert. Why don't we eat something else, hmm? "Wendy, when Jennifer apologizes to you later, don't forgive her too quickly, alright? "She better kneel and beg for your forgiveness before you even think about it. You're too kind to her. "You can't be too nice. Remember my words, Wendy." Wendy smirked faintly but then replaced it with an anxious, innocent expression. "I'm sure she's sorry, Dad. "She'd be so sad if I didn't forgive her…" "You're too kind, Wendy," Dad said with pride. Ian wrapped an arm around Wendy's body, smiling contentedly. What a picture-perfect, loving family. This was my so-called blood-related family. I smirked at the cruel irony and tried to move away, only to realize that I couldn't. My body was still there, binding me to this place. I had no choice but to watch as they acted all lovely-dovey in front of me, a grotesque display of affection that only deepened the bitterness in my heart. Chapter 5 Things weren't always like this, not before Wendy came into our lives. Back then, I still had a mother and father who loved me, and Ian was just a little boy. Ian and I would play together, Mom would tell me bedtime stories, and Dad would take me on walks in the park. Everything changed three summers ago. Mom and Dad left for the ancestral home while Ian and I stayed behind for school. A few days later, Dad returned with two pieces of devastating news. Mom had been in a car accident at the ancestral home. She didn't survive. And before her death, she and Dad had adopted the daughter of an old friend. I lost my mother but gained a sister. At first, I welcomed Wendy. I thought of her as the last connection I had to Mom since Mom had adopted her before the accident. I wanted a sister, too, so I did my best to care for her. I made sure no one at school bullied her, keeping an eye out for trouble in her class. I helped her with homework and took care of her whenever she was sick. I gave her everything I could as a sister, treating her like she was my own blood. However, one day, everything changed. I had gone to her class to bring her burn ointment, only to overhear her talking to her classmates. "My sister burned me by accident," she said, her voice soft and pitiful. "It's my fault—I shouldn't have brought her such a hot drink. "Please don't say bad things about her. She's really nice to me. She asks me to do chores and serve her tea, but she's never bullied me." I stood frozen, stunned by the lies. The burn on her hand wasn't my doing. She'd wanted to make coffee for Dad but claimed I had forced her to serve me hot tea. Dad had already punished me for her injury, yet I hadn't blamed her. I felt guilty for letting her into the kitchen in the first place. After hearing her lies, I confronted her at school. That day marked a turning point in my life—or maybe the change had started long before. Dad stopped doting on me. Ian no longer followed me around like my little shadow. I became an outsider in my own home, the person everyone vented their frustrations on. As I recalled the past three years, my body shuddered. Perhaps it was because the spirit itself was numb, but it felt like I had returned to the storage closet again. Chapter 6 My father's expression darkened as the half-hour mark passed, and I still hadn't appeared. "It's already been thirty minutes! What? Does she think I can't do anything to her?! "What a stubborn girl! She still doesn't understand what she's done wrong! "Hmph! I'd like to see what tricks she has up her sleeve!" In a fit of anger, he threw the teacup in his hand onto the ground, the sharp crack echoing through the room. I watched silently from behind, amused. Beneath his anger, there was a flicker of worry, though he'd never admit it. I couldn't help but snicker when he knocked into a chair as he stood up. "Wait here for me, Wendy. I'll drag Jennifer over to apologize." He stormed toward the storage room, his steps heavy with frustration. Just as he neared the door, a rat darted out, causing him to jolt in surprise. "What's going on? Where did that rat come from?!" The butler stood pale-faced by the door, his expression twisted in a grimace as he turned away. "Mr. Stiles… Perhaps you should take a look for yourself." I watched as my father stiffened, his movements robotic as he approached the storage closet. His gaze fell inside, landing on my corpse. I must admit, I was curious to see his reaction. Would it shock him? Would he finally feel remorse? Instead, he roared, "Jennifer Stiles! What the heck is this?! Get out here right now, or I'll lock you in that closet forever!" Tsk. I clicked my tongue beside him, my spectral form floating nearby. 'You should've come while I was still alive if you wanted to see me. 'I wanted to come out too, you know. Look at my hands. I was banging on that door until my dying breath. My fingers are all broken. 'Surely, my death must bring you satisfaction, hmm? 'You killed me.' My father, oblivious to my voice, leaned into the closet for a better look. That's when he truly saw it—what was left of my rat-eaten corpse lying in the middle of the storage room, surrounded by scurrying vermin. "Ah!" he gasped, stumbling back. The sudden noise startled the rats, sending them scampering. A few even leaped onto him, climbing up his body. He shrieked in shock, frantically swatting and shaking them off. The absurdity of the scene made me laugh aloud. It was rare to see him in such a humiliating state. If only I could record this moment on video. It would've made for a masterpiece.	LEARN_MORE	https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	374	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-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476409145_1582522109112738_8801041598977214432_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nqsfL7_ZKiYQ7kNvgHFg4Zn&_nc_oc=AdjWLsDV2EpjEEuFQVmRCTnbaFiQD9WoWZqpW3VTwFpwKRBbOUuoDJ3_mmQseXsHNdADuHmAwW5xtM_kCHoQMLgY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A2YR0PIxSyw7HtU8Xz13dJ0&oh=00_AYBcnoWivi_LK7wcLYj4KcN_3LxPlMMCQv9oGxfEUQTyyg&oe=67C9D44B	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
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2,726,041	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2726021}'	No	2025-03-02 01:48	active	2672	😍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/	374	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-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/477195397_1717400845490330_1803171411184655549_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=989j1fYCzK4Q7kNvgGCV5ii&_nc_oc=AdjEQJ8i1-57SR1tn_pcVCVGM07-CbJWS31XkrJxh4yDyntApEnZ6Ikt-crKOfRWGsLVn8hTM3ylvrplZn58oxN_&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AatBnKhkwiYzGb48GeNAHvW&oh=00_AYBIqqjTIKEI6eSuz7GdjopOBCHjO9DmTgIDYzqBQI_jeQ&oe=67C9C60E	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,725,662	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2725651}'	No	2025-03-02 01:48	active	2672	Stop overthinking and start living	✨️️️️️️️ Stop overthinking and start living today ✨️️️️️️️ 🎯 Boost confidence: Develop strategies for better decision making and self-esteem 💫 Eliminate negative thoughts: Learn how to identify and reduce toxic thought patterns ⌛ Live in the present moment: Become calm, happy, and trust your intuition	LEARN_MORE	https://mindway.app/start?qz=mw1	Your Personal Coach Sophia	https://www.facebook.com/61555143686071/	1,827	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	mindway.app	IMAGE		https://mindway.app/start?qz=mw1	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469952168_877260664259877_3990950328714330832_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=XZMbjA594KAQ7kNvgHE2TMS&_nc_oc=Adjb3n_aqNWeGxgm0aFjnfaUb-MKlvvTmPONL8-td_iFU3cBqysl8UbLJgiSfHoMzso3CnXKmvGlPnz0RMu4uLBN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A6MxCANvNqBpobun-Zp_m-B&oh=00_AYCBPQi8O3C1nTC7T1WbiFxHPfygqGIpoB79PHr0gHyVjw&oe=67C9CF78	PERSON_PROFILE	Your Personal Coach Sophia	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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