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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 bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d 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 b*dmates, 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 b*d, 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 b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "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 m*rk 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 b*d 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 b**ch! 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 gr*aning 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/ | 18,002 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | IMAGE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0130-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=673595984708315&exdata=E7C53BDECE0DE88B9B42A5A7859941209EA00F9651BFA51B | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475519342_9124731670975817_5999048616059755225_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=qIpgQpHzL6gQ7kNvgEIJ3xu&_nc_oc=Adip7pnHRzt4I1TwMPXPhYmQHOGq2odf7FxitOTQPcEo84H84ewXduQg7QNU15K0-RA&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ATEweGek78cLDgDHy1KciWP&oh=00_AYDrvoHjaW3KwolTnzZWD0E9rGoTqBrXfEDum2wH2oMJnA&oe=67C30265 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Popular romance stories | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2025-02-24 19:42 | active | 2625 | 0 | 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 bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d 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 b*dmates, 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 b*d, 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 b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "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 m*rk 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 b*d 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 b**ch! 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 gr*aning 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/ | 18,002 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0130-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=673595984708315&exdata=E7C53BDECE0DE88B15A5AC96436FC97D43AAE81D549149CF | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475167040_574622412059898_4290612423088056634_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=CZ0BMES1oRQQ7kNvgEYnze7&_nc_oc=Adirum9Nmw-U7VflFjGW6t8L-wxOdryiSQkTvtEBJaNWg-3IuwdxpiGZTkCI79-5m_4&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A-twtbsqt-MLxbrRsEN_5No&oh=00_AYDE26IOBFTB3n1397EDWWiJHMGwP-_WhQnyHaADpxPHzg&oe=67C2EE42 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Popular romance stories | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉 | "Ugh... P-please stop," Zoey whimpered, her voice low and hoarse, closing her eyes with an anxious and fearful expression. "L-let go of me!" she squeaked, struggling as she kept pushing against the broad chest of a man who was crawling over her body. If she hadn't been half-drunk, Zoey was sure she could have fought this man off. But because it was her first time trying wine, her head was spinning, and her body felt weak. Zoey had been invited to a high school reunion at a famous hotel in her city, and she attended the event. One of her friends dared her to drink wine, and Zoey refused, but her friend kept insisting. Eventually, Zoey gave in and took a few sips before stopping. Not long after she drank the strong, clear liquid, Zoey's head felt heavy, and her neck suddenly felt warm. She decided to leave, sneaking away from the reunion quietly. However, as she walked down the hotel corridor toward the elevator, someone suddenly covered her mouth and dragged her away. Now, here she was, in a room, struggling—trying to hold on to the last bit of her consciousness and fighting off a stranger who intended to assault her. No! Her family would be ashamed and devastated if they found out about this. Her dad and older brother would be furious, and it would break her mother's heart. Unfortunately, Zoey's vision was blurry. She couldn't see the face of the man who was violating her. "Aaaah..." Zoey moaned, on the edge of consciousness. She knew she was being assaulted by a man, but she had stopped resisting. She was losing herself to the touches of the man, her awareness fading—it felt like a dream. She wasn't herself anymore. "Ugghh..." Zoey whimpered, biting her lower lip but keeping her eyes shut. Her expression only excited the man further. He had already managed to strip the fabric covering her beautiful body, and his desire grew uncontrollably. He removed his own clothes—getting closer to the bared girl—and then pressed his body against her. "Ugh... Ahh! P-please, no!" Zoey whimpered with the last shred of consciousness, as her eyelids grew heavy and eventually closed completely. - The next morning, Zoey woke up with her body aching and sore. When she tried to lift her head, a wave of pain and dizziness hit her. She felt nauseous, her stomach churning. Realizing something, Zoey gasped in shock. "N-no!" Tears streamed down her face as she noticed her bared body. Her heart pounded in her chest, and a sharp pain spread through it. There was a red stain on the bed sheet! "T-this can't be happening!" she cried, her tears falling even harder—rolling down her cheeks, burning her skin. With her neck stiff and her heart racing, Zoey forced herself to glance to her side—to see who had taken her innocence so cruelly. Thud! Zoey's eyes widened, and for a second, her heart seemed to stop. She was in shock, unable to believe the identity of the man lying beside her—the one who had stolen her innocence. Zoey's previously stiff body began to tremble violently, and fear engulfed her. She hurriedly, but carefully, climbed out of the bed. She dressed as quickly as possible before sneaking out of the room. This was a nightmare! Zoey swore she would never see that man again. Never! Zoey would keep this secret—her family's reputation would be ruined if the truth came out! The man was someone Zoey feared and came from a very dangerous family. He was her cousin! 'Did I seduce him last night? Or… No, that's impossible! I-I can't remember anything! All I remember is leaving the party,' Zoey thought frantically, hitting her still-throbbing head in frustration, angry at herself for not remembering what had happened the night before. There were only hazy flashes, but Zoey couldn't be sure of anything. It was like a dream that felt real, but when you wake up, the memory fades away, leaving you unsure of what really happened. Chapter 0002 Three days after the incident, Zoey felt safe. Her secret of that dark night was something she could hide from her parents and her brother. Fortunately, at the time of the incident, her parents were still abroad, and her brother was out of town on business. Zoey also hadn't run into that person in the past three days. Thank goodness. Right now, Zoey was with her brother, Hayden, who had forced her to come along with him to buy some books. She wasn't sure what kind of books, but he seemed insistent that she should accompany him. "Why are we here?!" Zoey shrieked, already sweating and feeling incredibly nervous as Hayden brought her to Jonathan Robert's house. The house belonged to THAT man's family. Terrified of bumping into him, Zoey trembled. 'Somebody, help!' "Jonathan is back from Paris. I wanna meet him," Hayden explained. "And what does that have to do with me? You freaking liar! You said we were going to a bookstore. Argh!" Zoey screamed, torn between being angry at her brother and panicking at the thought of seeing that man. She really did not want to meet him. No, no! W-what if Jonathan remembered what happened that night?! He could accuse Zoey and think she was a promiscuous girl or a desperate flirt. And to make matters worse, Zoey used to admire him. It would be so easy for him to accuse her, wouldn't it? "Gosh, you're being so dramatic!" Hayden stuffed an orange peel he had found in the car into his sister's mouth, making Zoey fall silent and even more irritated with him. "You should be happy. Why? Well, your kind-hearted brother here is reuniting you with your long-lost love after five years apart." "That was a long time ago. I don't like him anymore. Besides, I already have a boyfriend," Zoey grumbled, refusing to get out of the car. But Hayden, acting crazily, pulled her out of the car and carried her into the grand, luxurious mansion. Once inside, Hayden finally put Zoey down, but he didn't let go of her hand. He kept dragging her along with him. "Hayden, Zoey, come here, darling," called a middle-aged woman who still looked beautiful and youthful—Sophie, the mother of the man Zoey was so terrified of. Blushing slightly, Zoey and Hayden approached her. They kissed her on the cheek and then joined their other cousins. The Phillips and the Roberts family were close. In fact, Jonathan was Zoey and Hayden's cousin. "Hey, Zoey, you're even prettier now." "You've grown up a lot since we last saw you." Zoey just smiled and nodded slightly in response to her cousins' comments. She silently prayed not to run into Jonathan again, as she had sworn never to see him again. Secretly, Zoey glanced around, checking where the man she feared might be. 'He's an extreme introvert. There's no way he'd come out of his room. Hah, I think I'm safe,' Zoey thought, breathing a quiet sigh of relief. "Zoey, what are you doing standing there? Sit down." Zoey gave a shy smile and nodded once again. She looked around, searching for a place to sit. Some of her cousins were sitting on the floor, and others were on the sofa, forming groups. That was typical. She really did not want to be there. She would rather be at the cafe than hang out there. The cousin she was close to, Jodie, wasn't even around. Right now, she was pondering where to sit. 'Hayden is such a bloody liar!' Zoey thought angrily, glancing at her brother, who was still standing right next to her, busy typing something on his phone. If she sat with Raphael, their conversation would be too intense. If she sat with her female cousins, they'd just be gossiping non-stop. Zoey stretched out her hand toward the sofa beside her—intending to rest her arm there. But why did it feel like she was touching hair? Zoey immediately turned to her side. Her eyes widened in shock and disbelief as she realized whose head she had just touched. It was Jonathan. The man she feared the most and the one who had stolen her innocence that night. Chapter 0003 "S-sorry." Zoey quickly withdrew her hand from Jonathan's head. He was now staring at her coldly, with a warning look. "Hahaha…" The laughter of the people in the room echoed. They all knew Zoey used to like Jonathan, and they often teased the two, trying to match them up. But what they didn't know was that now Zoey was terrified of Jonathan. This cousin of hers had once threatened her and even terrorized her. Her feelings had shifted from admiration to fear. Especially after that night, Zoey was even more scared! "Since you touched your future husband's hair, why don't you kiss him too, Zoey? So you can memorize his scent." "Your future husband is back, Zoey. Why haven't you said hi?" Zoey winced in embarrassment, wishing she could leave. Her heart was racing, and her face turned pale. Good grief! Zoey was breaking into a cold sweat. Everyone was teasing her about Jonathan, but none of them realized how terrified she was. How could they know? Zoey had never told anyone about Jonathan's threats. "I think I need to get back to the office. Some urgent business came up," Hayden suddenly said, then turned to his sister. "Zoey, stay here with the others. I'll pick you up later, or someone else will drop you off..." Hayden left his sentence hanging, glancing at their cousins to see who could give Zoey a ride if he couldn't. "I'll take her home," Jonathan said suddenly, his voice low and deep—heavy and resonant, making Zoey's heart pound with both fear and tension. His voice was so seductive, sending shivers through Zoey's entire body. Added to the fact that she used to admire him, Zoey's body couldn't help but respond. But she couldn't deny that Jonathan's smooth voice also made her feel threatened. "No." Zoey shook her head quickly. She couldn't stay here any longer. She had promised herself to avoid Jonathan. "I have something to do at the café," Zoey said hurriedly, gripping Hayden's arm tightly, afraid of being left behind by her brother. Maybe Jonathan had forgotten about that night, but Zoey was still scared to face him. Actually after five years of not seeing him, Jonathan had returned home more charming than ever. Handsome, yes, but now much more terrifying. Especially when Zoey recalled the threats Jonathan had directed at her over the years. Hah. She could hardly remember the time she had been in love with him. To be honest, Zoey had used to idolize Jonathan. She had even dreamed of becoming this cold man's wife. She had tried to get his attention, confessed her feelings, and even asked Jonathan to marry her. But all those feelings had slowly faded. It started when Jonathan suddenly moved abroad and got a girlfriend, which broke Zoey’s heart. One night, he had contacted Zoey with a threat. "You'll know the consequences if you try anything, Zoey. I'll make your life worse than death!" Jonathan's threat still haunted Zoey to this day. Back then, Zoey was naive and innocent, so she had been genuinely frightened. She even fell sick from the fear caused by Jonathan's words. But to this day, no one knew how cruel Jonathan had been to her. Zoey chose to keep it to herself. The crazy thing was that she had ended up having a night stand with this very cousin she feared, and now, here she was, face-to-face with him again. She had spent the last three days trying to avoid him. 'Please let him have amnesia!' That was Zoey's desperate prayer. "Good grief, Zoey! Weren't you the one who insisted on coming here? You wanted to meet your dear Jonathan, didn't you?! Well, here he is, right next to you." 'You sneaky liar! When did I ever say that?! You tricked me, and that's how I ended up here,' Zoey thought in shock, staring at her brother in disbelief. The worst part was that it wasn't just her cousins who liked to tease her about Jonathan. Her annoying brother did it too. Yeah, her own brother! "You wanted to see me, but now you don't want to talk to me? Strange," Jonathan said, his voice low, without looking at Zoey. He was still engrossed in reading a thick book in his hands. His face looked cold and expressionless, his eyes serious and focused on the pages. "Sit next to me, future wife," Jonathan added, his tone deep and heavy, suddenly turning toward Zoey, making her even more nervous and awkward. "Practice sitting by my side before we walk down the aisle." "Ooooh…." Everyone in the room cheered, laughing together. Gah! Zoey wished the ground would swallow her up whole. Jonathan was still as mischievous as he had been five years ago. He always joined in teasing Zoey, just like their other cousins. 'In front of everyone, you seem sweet. But behind them, you're the devil, Jonathan Roberts! I know your dark side, and why am I the only one who knows that?!' Awkwardly and extremely nervous, Zoey finally agreed to sit next to Jonathan. What choice did she have? Her brother kept nudging her, and her cousins kept cheering her on. If Zoey refused to sit next to Jonathan, they'd all get the wrong idea, thinking she still had feelings for him and was just too shy. So… reluctantly, Zoey had to muster the courage to sit beside him, just to prove she didn't have any feelings left. "How have you been?" Jonathan asked after a long silence, once their other cousins were preoccupied with their own conversations. "Fine," Zoey replied flatly, pretending to be busy with her phone, though in reality, she wasn't doing anything on it. Argh! She was so nervous, awkward, and scared. But… Jonathan's behavior seemed normal. Had he really forgotten that night? Or were they both just too drunk to remember? The question was, why had Jonathan been there? He should have still been in Paris at the time. Ah, in any case, Zoey could only hope he had amnesia. Chapter 0004 Unable to handle the teasing from Jonathan's family, who kept trying to match them together, Zoey decided to leave early—using the excuse that her café was busy and she needed to help her staff. "Zoey, are you leaving?" her uncle Gabriel asked, who happened to cross paths with Zoey. Gabriel was Jonathan's father. "Yes," Zoey replied, nodding slightly with a light smile. People said her uncle was quite intimidating, but to Zoey, he was the best uncle. Yes, he was quiet and cold, but her uncle was someone who deeply cared about and loved his family. "Jon, come here for a moment," Gabriel suddenly called when he saw Jonathan walking by, intending to enter the elevator. Zoey immediately panicked, glancing at her uncle, then at Jonathan, who was walking coolly like a king approaching his throne. 'Zoey, you already have a boyfriend. Please forget about Jonathan. Remember! There are many beautiful and smart women in Paris, and last time you saw him, he was with another woman. Don't fall for him again. And don't forget he once terrorized you! Don't fall in love with the devil,' Zoey tried to convince herself in her heart. Zoey's heart pounded wildly, beating faster as Jonathan approached her. When he stopped right next to her, so close that her shoulder brushed against his arm, her heart felt like it was about to explode. This was too close! Her heart wasn't safe around Jonathan! The truth was, this was the man Zoey had always liked, and she had never confided her feelings to anyone. She had kept it all to herself. Yet somehow, the family found out that Zoey had feelings for Jonathan, and now the news had spread, leading to constant matchmaking between her and Jonathan. In the past, Zoey had been shy about being paired with Jonathan. Even now, she was, but she had come to understand something: Jonathan was uncomfortable with it and didn't like it. Five years ago, Zoey had foolishly confessed her feelings to Jonathan. In the spur of a moment, she had told him how she felt. Jonathan had told her to graduate and chase her dreams first, and only then would he consider a relationship. The worst part was that just a few months after Zoey confessed, Jonathan started avoiding her. Not long after that, Jonathan abruptly decided to move to Paris to manage their family's business there. Zoey understood then that he wasn't promising to wait for her; he was gently rejecting her. The most painful thing was that Zoey had impulsively followed Jonathan to the airport, intending to see him off and say goodbye. But when she arrived, she saw Jonathan sitting with another woman on his lap, and they were kissing. That was the deepest heartbreak Zoey had ever experienced. Since then, Zoey had buried her feelings, trying to move on and forget Jonathan, her first love. In the midst of her attempts to move on, Jonathan suddenly threatened her over the phone. That was the cruelest blow to Zoey's heart. Now, Zoey had a boyfriend. She was not quite in love with him yet, but she was sure that after they got married, she would learn to love him. "Your future wife wants to leave. Can you take her home?" Gabriel asked as soon as Jonathan was nearby. 'What?! What is he doing?! Even Uncle Gabriel is in on this?! Ugh.' "Sure, Dad," Jonathan nodded. "A-actually, it's not necessary, Uncle. I've already called a taxi—" "You can cancel it," Jonathan interrupted quickly, grabbing Zoey's wrist and pulling her along with him. "Jonathan, I don't need you to take me home. I can go by myself. Besides, my boyfriend—" "Break up with your boyfriend!" Jonathan cut her off sharply, his tone angry, his expression even colder. "Sorry, but that's none of your business and has nothing to do with you," Zoey responded, her voice soft and careful, though she was both nervous and awkward. Jonathan's sharp gaze was intense and intimidating. This terrified her greatly. "None of my business? Who gave you permission to have a boyfriend?!" Jonathan hissed, his eyes piercing into Zoey. "I'm an adult now, so I can make my own decisions without asking anyone for permission," Zoey said quietly, her voice steady despite her nerves. "An adult? What proof do you have that you're an adult?" Jonathan raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he looked at Zoey's sour expression. "I'm twenty-five years old." "Age doesn't guarantee maturity." "My chest has grown bigger," Zoey snapped in frustration, puffing out her chest as if to prove her point. But when she realized what she was doing and saw Jonathan's gaze drop to her chest, Zoey quickly crossed her arms over her chest and stepped back, embarrassed. 'Ah! What was I doing? Oh my God, I'm so embarrassed!' Zoey thought, cringing internally. Her cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment, spreading all the way down to her roots. "Tch, that's fake," Jonathan commented, hands on his behinds, still staring at her chest. "That's padding," he added, making Zoey's eyes widen in shock. 'What?! Fake? Padding?! Is he serious?!' "They're real!" Zoey retorted angrily. "I've seen them," Jonathan said, freezing Zoey in place, her body stiffening, "and they're not bigger than my hand," he added in a quiet voice, now standing so close to Zoey that she could feel his minty breath on her face. Zoey's heart felt like it had dropped into her stomach, her knees shaking. "I-I don't know what you're talking about. Excuse me, I need to go." Zoey pushed against Jonathan's broad chest, rushing away with a pale, panicked expression. Hah, not bigger than his hand? Why did this Frost King suddenly seem perverted? And... Did Jonathan remember that night? – "Let's talk again later. Just hang up; your patients are waiting, and saving lives is more important than a phone call," Zoey said softly over the phone to her boyfriend, Daniel Smidt—a surgeon at a local hospital. They had been dating for six months, and Zoey thought that was long enough to get to know each other. But for some reason, she kept putting off marriage with Daniel. Maybe it was because she still wanted to enjoy her youth. "Huh," Zoey sighed, massaging her temples after Daniel hung up. Once again, Daniel had asked if she was ready to get married. "Should I just go through with it? But I'm not a innocent girl anymore. Ugh, what do I do?" Zoey muttered to herself in the office of her café. Click. The door to her office opened, and Zoey instinctively turned to see who it was. "Excuse m—" Her words stopped short when she saw who was standing there. It was Jonathan. Zoey's heart pounded in her chest. Her eyes widened, and her face turned pale. "Why are you here?" 'Don't tell me he followed me here?' "Break up with your boyfriend!" Jonathan said coldly, not answering her question. He locked the door and began walking toward Zoey, who stood frozen in place. "I've already told you, my relationship has nothing to do with you!" Zoey snapped, trying to cover her nervousness as Jonathan drew closer. "You're going to marry me," Jonathan said casually. "What? Who said I'd marry you?!" Zoey stammered, her face turning red as she grew more panicked. "I won't marry you! I'm going to marry my boyfriend, not you." "Are you sure you want to refuse me?" Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I'm one hundred percent sure," Zoey nodded firmly. "By the way, I didn't use protection that night, and I came inside you," Jonathan said coldly, now standing directly in front of Zoey, wrapping his arm around her waist as he stared into her eyes with a sharp, warning look. Zoey's heart felt like it was about to jump out of her chest. Her face wasn't just stiff—it was burning red with both anger and shame at Jonathan's words. And with him standing so close, holding her like this, Zoey felt like she was going to faint. 'I came back for you, but you chose someone else. Tsk, don't think you can escape me!' Chapter 0005 Jonathan kept lingering in Zoey's mind—his mention of their night stand constantly replaying in her head. He acknowledged it but also used it as a threat to force her into marrying him. "But why does Jonathan suddenly want to marry me? There must be something else. It can't be that he likes me. Ugh, he can't even stand looking at me unless Hayden or one of our cousins is around, and only then does he talk to me," Zoey muttered quietly, talking to herself in her room. It was humiliating! Zoey had actually fainted, for real! Being too close and too intimate with Jonathan, she had held her breath, her head suddenly feeling light, and then everything went dark, ending with her passing out. When she woke up, she was already in her room and immediately scolded by Hayden for troubling Jonathan. Luckily, her mom and dad had come home, so Zoey could hide behind them from her brother's fury. Click. The door to Zoey's room opened suddenly, revealing her brother, Hayden, with an annoyed and sour expression. He was probably still mad at Zoey. "Dad is calling you," Hayden said curtly, looking at his sister with a flat expression before turning to leave. "Hurry!" "Alright." Zoey sighed, turning off her laptop and quickly getting up. She had been busy working on a new concept and menu for her café. Though, in truth, her mind had been preoccupied with thoughts of Jonathan. With quick steps, Zoey went to see her father. She entered his office, where her mother was also present. Her parents, Kenneth and Maria, were waiting. Her father had a twin sister named Kendra, but Kenneth and his twin sister bore little resemblance to each other. Kendra, her aunt, had married Jonathan's uncle, Alfred Barron, which was why Zoey and Jonathan were still considered cousins, although not related by blood at all. Kenneth and Jonathan's father, Gabriel Roberts, were very close, almost like best friends since their youth. This bond further strengthened the relationship between the Phillips family and the legendary Roberts family. "What did you need me for, Dad?" Zoey asked after entering the office, sitting in front of her father, who was holding what looked like two wedding invitations. 'Probably just invitations for the company's anniversary,' Zoey thought, staying optimistic as she glanced at the invitations in her father's hand. "Have you seen Jonathan?" "Yes, Dad," Zoey answered, scratching her cheek before glancing at her mom, wondering why her father was bringing up Jonathan. But Maria simply shrugged. "So, next week or the week after?" "Huh? Next week for what?" Zoey asked, increasingly confused. Were her parents going on another business trip? Would she be left alone with her temperamental brother again? Kenneth looked up at his daughter, pushing the sample invitations toward her. "Your wedding with Jonathan." "What?!" Zoey gasped, her face turning pale and her body stiffening. 'Marry Jonathan? God no!' "Why are you so shocked? Didn't Jonathan tell you that you two were getting married?" "No. And I refuse." Zoey shook her head firmly. "Jonathan and I are cousins, and there's a seven-year age gap between us. Besides, I already have a boyfriend, and he's planning to propose." Kenneth's face grew cold as he looked at his daughter with a warning expression. "Everything is already set, Zoey. You can't refuse this marriage." "Yes, darling. Jonathan came back to the country specifically to marry you. So, you really have no choice; you have to marry him," Maria added, leaving Zoey feeling both grim and disheartened. "But why so suddenly, Mom? And don't you both remember that we are cousins? We're close, like a real family, so we can't get married. I-I already have a boyfriend, and he's going to propose to me next week. And I'm sure Jonathan already has a girlfriend in Paris. So I have reasons to refuse this marriage," Zoey protested, rejecting the idea of marrying Jonathan. She had a boyfriend who loved her, and that was enough reason for Zoey to refuse the marriage with Jonathan. As the saying goes, it's better to be with someone who loves you than with someone you love. Learning to love someone may not be easy, but trying to make someone you love reciprocate can be deeply painful. Zoey didn't want to go through that! Especially since Jonathan had been a nightmare to her. His threats and intimidation over the years made her dread the idea of being married to him. Besides, didn't Jonathan already have a girlfriend?! "What are you saying, dear?!" Kenneth sighed slowly, rubbing his forehead before running his hand roughly over his face. "I begged Gabriel to have his son marry my daughter, asking him to convince Jonathan to agree to the marriage. I swallowed my pride for you!" Zoey pulled a face, feeling uncomfortable and struck by her father's words. "Why would you do that?" "For you!" Kenneth snapped, raising his voice without realizing it, his frustration boiling over at his daughter's attitude. He had gone through all of this to grant his daughter's earlier wishes. "I did it because you kept asking for it. Every birthday, you refused gifts from me, instead pushing me to arrange a marriage with Jonathan. And if I didn't agree, you would go on hunger strikes and refuse to speak to me! And now that I've granted your wish…" "But that was when I was seventeen, eighteen, and even at twenty, Dad. After that, I never asked you to match me with Jonathan again. I was just a kid back then! I was impulsive and obsessed with one thing without thinking about the consequences. I'm an adult now, and I don't want to be forced into a marriage with Jonathan. I have my own choices now!" Zoey protested again, unwilling to be paired with Jonathan. And now she understood why Jonathan had suddenly agreed to marry her. It was all because of her father's request and plea. Kenneth cut in quickly. "I love you so much that I humbled myself and begged Gabriel to accept you into their family. And this is how you repay me?!" "T-that's not—" Zoey began, but Kenneth interrupted her. "There were many others who offered their daughters to marry Jonathan, and I competed with all of them. I always believed that my daughter was better than any of them, that you were more worthy of standing by Jonathan's side. Of all the marriage proposals that came for Jonathan, Gabriel chose you to be his son's wife. "Do you know who Jonathan is and how important he is to the Roberts family? He's the main heir, continuing to manage the family's business in Paris—he's the leader of EliteQuality Electronics. Gabriel wouldn't just allow any woman to marry his son. He's selective! And Gabriel trusted you to be Jonathan's partner; he chose you. Whether it's because of my plea or not, you're the one he chose. Please don't destroy his expectations of you, and don't make me lose face in front of him." Zoey sat frozen and silent. Her eyes reddened, stinging with tears after she heard her father's lengthy explanation. She felt as if her heart had been stabbed, realizing she had become a burden to her father. Her father had begged for her to become Jonathan's wife. And on top of that, her uncle Gabriel had trusted her to marry Jonathan. What now? After hearing that Jonathan was the heir to the Roberts family, Zoey felt even more unworthy. But her father had already done so much to make sure she could marry Jonathan. He had even begged for it. 'I'm the most ungrateful and selfish daughter. My past desires have made my father humble himself to that family. I'm so thoughtless,' Zoey thought to herself, unable to speak and only crying, her head hung low. "Let me handle this, dear. I'll talk to our daughter. Maybe she'll listen to me as a friend," Maria said gently, trying to soothe her husband, who was pushing their daughter too hard. Poor Zoey! She was already crying, her head bowed, unable to look her father in the eye. "Hmph." Kenneth huffed in frustration, standing up and leaving the room. "Daddy has done everything so you could marry the man of your dreams, dear," Maria said softly, approaching Zoey and hugging her while stroking her hair. "Your daddy loves you so much! He even begged Aunt Kendra, Uncle Alfred, Uncle Gabriel, Aunt Sophie, Aunt Lucy, and Uncle Roger, all so you could marry the man you've always dreamed of. And now, you've hurt him." "I'm sorry, Mom," Zoey whispered, her voice small. "I-I was wrong." 'You all only know that I used to love Jonathan. But you don't know that now I'm terrified of him. I'm even afraid to look him in the eye. And now I have to marry the man I fear? This is a nightmare.' "Daddy thought you'd be happy when you found out you'd marry Jonathan. Instead, your reaction is like this, and now you tell us you have a boyfriend. That only hurt him more, sweetheart." Maria said while holding her daughter's hands. Zoey shook her head. "I didn't mean to hurt him, Mom. I regret going against him. I'm sorry..." "I'll talk to Jonathan tomorrow and sort this out," Zoey said through her sobs, still crying. "Alright, sweetheart." Maria nodded, continuing to stroke Zoey's hair. Chapter 0006 As Zoey had mentioned to her mother, today she mustered the courage to meet with Jonathan at his family mansion. To avoid drawing too much attention from her family, Zoey used the excuse of accompanying Hayden—just like the previous night. But actually, Zoey genuinely wanted to go, without being forced or tricked by Hayden again. After observing the surroundings, Zoey saw Jonathan in the kitchen. She mustered the courage to walk up to him. "I need to talk to you," Zoey whispered, tiptoeing to reach Jonathan's ear. This man was incredibly tall, and his height was abnormal to Zoey. At 5'5", Zoey already considered herself quite tall for a woman. Jonathan and the rest of his family were unusually tall compared to the average, with Jonathan standing at 6'3". So, next to Jonathan, Zoey felt incredibly short. Even her brother, Hayden, was only six feet tall, which already made Zoey feel like she was short. Next to Jonathan, she felt like a dwarf! "Go ahead," Jonathan said casually, taking a carton of milk from the fridge before closing the door. "Not here," Zoey replied, looking up at Jonathan with a gloomy and nervous expression. Her heart was racing, almost ready to explode. To be honest, there was a lingering fear of this man that made Zoey's hair stand on end. Jonathan's aura was intimidating, and his gaze was hypnotic. "Hmm." Jonathan walked ahead, followed by Zoey. He led her to the rooftop, locking the door so they were alone. Zoey grew more anxious, her heart pounding. But she knew Jonathan wouldn't do anything strange to her since they were still at the Roberts residence. "Sit," Jonathan ordered, already seated in a lounge chair. Zoey nodded and chose to sit in the chair beside him. "Did you come to tell me you've broken up with your boyfriend?" Jonathan asked coldly, without looking at Zoey. Zoey shook her head. "I came to ask you to cancel our wedding. I'm sorry, but I only recently found out that my dad asked your dad for me to be your partner. That was my fault for pressuring my dad to arrange our match in the past. I'm sorry, I was immature. My actions might have made your dad uncomfortable with my dad, so maybe he pressured you into agreeing to marry me. But now, there's no need to feel burdened anymore because I don't want to be your wife, and... and I won't bother you anymore. You can cancel the wedding." "You think it's that easy to cancel this wedding? The invitations have already been sent out," Jonathan suddenly growled, glaring at Zoey in anger. "But—" Zoey stiffened. 'I don't even know the wedding date. How come the invitations are already sent out? Last night, Dad just gave me a sample invitation. What on earth?' Zoey's mind wandered around. "You're being even more childish now! After making your dad beg on your behalf, you're still insisting on canceling the wedding?!" Zoey swallowed hard. "That's why I came to apologize and admit my mistake." "Do you have a brain?" Jonathan snapped sarcastically, silencing Zoey. "Your fake padded chest isn't helping you act more mature. You might as well take it off!" "Jonathan!" Zoey shouted, a mix of anger and humiliation. Jonathan's comment wasn't just sarcastic—it was bullying and body-shaming. To be honest, Zoey felt deeply hurt by Jonathan's inappropriate words, but mostly, she was embarrassed. The truth was… she was wearing a padded underwear. Jonathan's comment about her small fronts made Zoey feel insecure, which is why she wore the underwear to enhance her chest size. "Can you not make a big deal about my chest? You've always brought it up. What's your problem with it?!" Zoey fumed, though she wanted to cry, she was too embarrassed. Crying over her small fronts? Seriously? How pathetic. "Tch," Jonathan clicked his tongue softly, glancing at Zoey's fronts, making her immediately cross her arms in front of her. "Fine, but if you really want to cancel this wedding, it's not a big deal for me." Zoey hesitated, looking at Jonathan with a mix of shame and flushed cheeks—a remnant of Jonathan's earlier words. Jonathan's tone was calm again, but somehow that only added to the horror and danger. Zoey grew even more scared! This man was too mysterious, and Zoey couldn't figure him out. "I've already felt your body," Jonathan said nonchalantly, "and if you still want to cancel the wedding, that's fine. But when you get conceived later, don't expect me to take responsibility. And one more thing, don't drag my name into it!" Like being crushed, Zoey's heart felt like it was about to burst and shatter, leaving her numb and in pain. Zoey froze, feeling slapped by Jonathan's words. This man was truly exploiting that tragic night. Zoey was speechless! "But if you agree to marry me, then from this moment on, you'll call me 'hubby'," Jonathan added with his winning smile. Zoey clenched her hands tightly—she was anxious and restless. Jonathan threatened her and now acted as if he could do whatever he wanted with Zoey. But— What was Jonathan's real motive for insisting on marrying her? Jonathan was always so annoyed and uncomfortable around her. Zoey had already apologized for her father's request that Jonathan marry her. Jonathan was free now! Could Jonathan have feelings for her? Impossible! If he liked Zoey, he would have proposed properly or at least expressed his feelings. Not bullied her and used her as a tool to subdue her. Jonathan seemed… like a pervert! Did Jonathan have a grudge against her?! That made more sense to Zoey. "H-hubby," Zoey whispered nervously. She had no choice! She was terrified of getting conceived, and if she thought about it, she felt selfish rejecting the wedding. Her dad had sacrificed so much for this! The truth was… Jonathan had succeeded in threatening her by exploiting that tragic event. "Not bad," Jonathan muttered softly, leaning back in his chair and staring straight ahead. "But we're cousins. We can't get married." "We're not related by blood," Jonathan replied simply. "Break up with your boyfriend as soon as possible." Zoey nodded. 'Maybe Jonathan doesn't want to see Dad begging him over and over to marry me. Jonathan and Dad are close, so maybe that's why Jonathan is so insistent. Or… is this revenge?' Chapter 0007 After meeting Jonathan, Zoey decided to visit her boyfriend, Daniel, at the hospital. Daniel was supposed to come to Zoey's café, but she had told him not to, especially since Jonathan, Hayden, and their cousins were hanging out there. Ugh, Zoey hadn't even fully agreed to marry Jonathan, yet everyone assumed she had, and here's the kicker—they were getting married in three days. Crazy, right? But that was the reality. The situation was urgent, and Jonathan couldn't stay in the country for long. The company needed him, so everything was rushed. "Daniel?" Zoey said, surprised to see him already at her café—along with a young, conceived woman. 'Oh my God, why did Daniel come here? I told him I'd meet him at the hospital. Ugh, Hayden is here, and so is Jonathan. I'm doomed!' Zoey thought to herself. "Zoey," Daniel called softly, walking toward her while holding the hand of the woman next to him. "I'm sorry we couldn't meet at the hospital. My mom was there, so I decided to come here. I also have something to tell you." "Let's sit over there." Zoey smiled awkwardly at Daniel, feeling the eyes of her cousins and Hayden on her, which made her feel constrained. Daniel and the woman sat down, and Zoey followed, again smiling awkwardly at them both. "I wanted to say…" "I need to talk…" Both of them spoke at the same time, clearly nervous. "Oh, you go first, Daniel." Daniel Smidt, a 26-year-old doctor, nodded awkwardly. "I want to apologize, Zoey. You're a beautiful and talented woman." 'That's a bad sign,' Zoey thought, still smiling gracefully, though her heart was already pounding. She had a bad feeling about this. "I love you. But—I can't wait for you anymore, Zoey. I'm sorry." "What do you mean?" Zoey asked, even though she already knew. She chose to ask anyway, though their intentions were the same, it still hurt. "My parents never approved of our relationship. I'm sorry, there's a difference in our statuses. I'm a doctor, and you're just a waitress in this café," Daniel explained. Zoey smiled sweetly once again, even though… it hurt so much! Daniel had no idea that Zoey actually owned the café, nor did he know that she was the daughter of the Phillips family. But why did it still hurt when Daniel made their status an issue? All humans are created equal! But in reality, many still cared about social status, like Daniel. 'I humbled myself and pretended to be simple so you wouldn't feel insecure about finances. I wanted you to feel like you were worthy of standing beside me. But apparently, a waitress is too low for your family,' Zoey thought. "And… this is Maya. She's seven months conceived by her ex-boyfriend. But since he refused to take responsibility, my family wants me to marry her. I'm sorry," Daniel spoke gently, suddenly pulling something out and handing it to Zoey. "Here's my wedding invitation, and I hope you can attend." "Oh, that's okay. Congratulations, Daniel," Zoey said, accepting the invitation. "Oh, and I need to get back to work. My boss might get mad if I just sit around. Sorry, but I have to go." Zoey quickly excused herself, walking briskly and leaving. Even though she didn't have deep feelings for Daniel, it still hurt to be in this position. Maybe it was just her ego, not wanting to be the one dumped first. But why did it have to be because of her job? She didn't love Daniel yet, but she had put in so much effort for him. Zoey had even pretended to be a waitress in her own café—just so Daniel would feel confident and worthy of her. "It's okay. The important thing is that I didn't hurt him first. Now I don't have to explain anything to Daniel," Zoey muttered, trying to console herself. "Hmph…" But in reality, Zoey still cried. First, Jonathan rejected her because of their age gap, and now Daniel rejected her because of social status. Meanwhile, Jonathan had been watching the entire event between Zoey and Daniel. He even followed Zoey when she went to the café's kitchen. Jonathan saw her go to the corner of the room and sob quietly. That made Jonathan furious! – "Dad, I want to marry Zoey tomorrow." "Are you out of your mind?!" Gabriel looked at Jonathan with a mix of confusion and warning. "They're trying to get the company's data, and I need to return as soon as possible. If it's not tomorrow, then there won't be another day for the wedding. It's tomorrow or never!" Jonathan said flatly, staring at his father with an unreadable expression. | LEARN_MORE | https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17968&u | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 373 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | redtgb.com | IMAGE | https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17968&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/t39.35426-6/475812820_972144491520478_6311968132973008843_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=FtYeVN4pakUQ7kNvgHaP6Su&_nc_oc=AdgAL-r4IdnXOgj0gKAIGRB1uo0d6mXh_7ZsJTdlGZuoe01YoK_lg--jTYFiMjLuwRI&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AnOXAXshLP2LxWIJLvDjKhQ&oh=00_AYA3Wv1IayGHVzwOS6yYHv4bXLl_lntsoDAgaJienzgdSw&oe=67C2D7C0 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔥NEW POPULAR READ🔥 | “I want a divorce.” I said, but there was no response. “I said I want a divorce.” I repeated louder this time, clenching my fists at my sides. Alpha Dante finally looked up from his desk, staring at me like I had come to throw another tantrum. “You are tired. Go and have a nap or something,” he said dismissively. I bit down on my lips and, in annoyance, slammed the divorce papers I had secretly gathered on his desk. “What is this?” he muttered in irritation, flipping through the papers. “These are the divorce papers. I have my signature already on them. All that’s left is your signature.” His brow furrowed, and his jaw clenched. Then suddenly, he tore the papers into shreds, causing me to gasp. “What… what do you think you are doing? I spent months gathering that… why would you…” “I will not divorce!” His voice thundered, causing me to flinch. He tossed the shredded papers across the room. “You are my wife. The Luna of the Moonshade Pack. How dare you ask for a divorce?” “What more do you want? You’ve caused me nothing but pain for the past three years,” I found myself yelling in anger. “You’ve had your revenge. My father's dead and you took over his pack. What more do you want? Why won’t you let me go? Why…” “It’s not enough!” he cut me off. “Your pain is not enough! You cannot be happy while I am unhappy! You will remain unhappy by my side forever,” he said, now standing, his voice filled with nothing but disdain. I let out a shaky breath. Who was he? This wasn’t the man I had fallen in love with. This wasn’t the man who held me close on cold nights, who whispered sweet nothings in my ear, who promised to protect me from all harm. No, this was a stranger—a monster wrapped in the same familiar body. I shook my head in disbelief, my heart pounding in my chest. How had we come to this? “I, Amaya Blackwood…” “Don’t you dare, Amaya!” he said, taking steps forward while I took more back. “…of the Moonshade pack reject you…” “Amaya!” he yelled, closing the distance as I slammed my back against a wall. His hand gripped my jaw, his red eyes glowing as he stared at me while I glared back at him. “Divorce me, Dante,” I muttered, breathing heavily, but his grip only tightened around my jaw, so tight that it felt like he could actually crush it any moment. “Please… let me go.” “Never!” he growled. “I will never let you go, Amaya. Even if you hate me.” We continued staring at each other, panting heavily, until I looked away. Only then did his grip loosen, and he took a step back. “Now return to your room, and don’t you ever think about something as absurd as divorce again, because it’s never going to happen.” I paused by the door, my grip tightening around the doorknob, but I said nothing. As I was returning to my room, I was so lost in thought that I bumped into someone by the stairs. “Oh, sorry,” I muttered, and when I looked up, I saw that the man I bumped into was Cyrus, the son of my father’s Beta, Vaughn. His father was part of the revolution that had overthrown my father. Unfortunately, before my father was caught, Vaughn was shot in the heart by my father. He did not survive. “Watch where you are going,” he sneered. I lowered my head and continued walking, but then he added, “The Alpha received a marriage proposal.” I froze, gripping the hem of my dress. He continued, “She’s an amazing woman. One of our best warriors. The people love her and approve of them as a couple. Do you know what this means?” He turned to me with a smug look, expecting a disapproving response. Instead, I smiled warmly. “Ah yes, they do seem like a perfect match. I already asked Dante for a divorce, but he refused. You are his close friend. I am sure you would be able to convince him to take the proposal seriously.” His smug look faltered, and he looked at me confused. “You are giving up so easily?” he said, and now I was the one who was confused. “What else can I do? He’s made it clear that I have no say in my own life. If this marriage proposal is what’s best for the pack, who am I to stand in the way?” He frowned, and when he didn’t say anything else, I turned away. When I got to my room, I closed the door behind me and let out a shaky breath as I recalled Cyrus’s words. The pack adored their new Alpha. After all, he had saved them from misfortune. Kara was also everything I wasn’t—strong, beloved, and loyal to the pack. She had fought alongside Dante for the freedom of the pack. It was only natural for them to be together. They were a perfect match, and I was sure the people would pressure Dante to accept. But what did that mean for me? Would I be finally free? No, that wasn’t possible. I was the last remaining royal bloodline of the Moonshade pack. The people hated me. They wanted me gone, and Dante would never let me go. Even if he moved on, he would keep me as a prisoner. I sighed and walked over to the window. My eyes widened for a brief moment when I saw Dante and Kara walking side by side. They were talking about something, and he was smiling. But then it all vanished as he shifted his gaze and his eyes met mine. A shiver ran down my spine, but I couldn’t look away. So we just stared at each other until Kara tugged at his sleeve, urging him to focus on her. He glanced back at her with the same warm smile, and they both walked away. “Should I jump?” was the first thought that came to my head as soon as they were out of sight. I could run as far as my legs could carry me. But where would I go? Who was I kidding? Dante had allies everywhere while I had no one. My parents were gone, their loyal followers were either scattered or dead. I was alone. Chapter 2 I woke up the next morning with a very high fever, but I still managed to get out of bed. Outside my bedroom window, I could hear chants from protesters who wanted me gone from the pack. This had become a routine; they did it every morning until they were chased away by the guards. I got dressed and headed downstairs to join Dante for breakfast. Although I didn’t want to, he had insisted, not giving me much of a choice. So, against my will, I had to see him every morning before he left the packhouse. Today was different, though. Kara was sitting at the breakfast table, smiling as she poured Dante a cup of coffee. “Good morning, Amaya,” she said, as if she wasn’t sitting in my house, at my table, sharing coffee with my husband while I sat at the far end, away from both of them. “Good morning,” I muttered, keeping my eyes down. Dante, on the other hand, didn’t look up. He was busy reading something on his tablet. “Amaya, you look pale,” she added just as I was about to take a bite of my sausage. “Are you not feeling well?” I looked at her, caught off guard. There was no way she would care. That was confirmed when I saw pity in her eyes, and my walls went back up. As if on cue, Dante looked up from his tablet, his gaze meeting mine, waiting for my response. “I…I’m fine,” I muttered. “If you’re fine, stop sulking,” Dante said coldly. “Dante,” Kara scolded. “Why are you being harsh? She doesn’t look well.” “She’s the daughter of a powerful Alpha. I’m sure her wolf will heal her,” he said. And he would be right, except I had lost contact with my wolf as a result of the trauma. It was like she just vanished. Perhaps that was another reason I couldn’t feel the mate bond, and that was why his words hurt less. “But…” Kara tried to insist, but he cut her off. “Fine…I will get the pack healer.” “No, it’s not necessary. It’s just a fever.” I tried taking a bite of the sausage, but the smell made me nauseous, and I put it back down. “Excuse me,” I said, standing up. “Where are you going?” Dante asked. “I’m not hungry,” I replied. Not waiting for his response, I turned and walked out of the dining room. In the corner, I could see some maids giggling as I walked by. I knew it was about me, but I could do nothing but continue walking. Later that evening, Dante informed me I would be joining him for a party. My dress had already been picked out, and all I had to do was be there, in his words. It was difficult walking in heels. I had mentioned this in the past, but I guess he had forgotten—or perhaps he only pretended to care back then. I felt dizzy due to my rising fever, yet I had to shake it off for the sake of this occasion. As soon as we entered, all eyes fell on us. My hand was wrapped around his, and I could feel my grip tightening because of how nervous I was, which was weird because I was always the confident one. When we walked in, a man approached us with a smile and extended his hand to Dante. “Alpha Dante, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said while completely ignoring my presence. “Always good to see you, Mark,” he said, returning the handshake. I stood there awkwardly as the two men continued to talk. The man didn’t even glance in my direction, making me feel like an outsider. After a while, I slowly released my grip and took a small step back, then another, until I had created some distance between us—but I could still hear their voices. “So, Alpha, why didn’t you accept the marriage proposal?” he asked, as if I wasn’t in the room with them. “I’m not sure where that rumor came from. I already have a wife,” Dante said, laughing, catching me off guard. But I quickly reminded myself it was probably just to save face. After a while, the show started, and I was back at Dante’s side. It was a live band playing one of my favorite songs. I closed my eyes as memories from years ago flooded back—when I used to perform on stages, traveling on tours. But after the incident, it felt like I lost my voice. “Luna, didn’t you use to sing?” I heard a voice from among the crowd, and my eyes snapped open. “Yes! Why don’t you sing for us?” another said. “Wait…what…I…” I tried to speak, but they cut me off. “Come on, one song! Don’t be shy. You’ve earned many awards for your singing.” It was true, but right now, I couldn’t. Before I could protest, a woman grabbed my hand forcefully and pulled me to the stage, handing me a mic. I stood in front of the stage, staring at the crowd in front of me. This was nothing compared to the hundreds of people I had sung in front of in the past, but back then, they didn’t look at me with such disdain. “Sing!” They urged, while my heart raced. In the crowd, I could see Dante staring at me expectantly. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I just couldn’t. A sudden wave of dizziness hit me, making my body sway slightly. My skin was burning up, but at the same time, I felt so cold that my fingers were trembling. Gosh, I should have stayed back at home. My head was pounding and my legs felt like they weren’t even mine anymore. “I…I…sorry. I…” I tried to say, but my vision suddenly blurred, and the next thing I knew, the room was tilting. No, I was falling. The last thing I saw was an image of Dante’s wide eyes as he rushed toward me, but everything went black before I could see if he caught me. When I opened my eyes, I was lying in my bed. “Don’t move,” a voice said sternly. It wasn’t Dante’s—it was the pack’s healer. I blinked, watching him mix something in a small bowl. “You collapsed at the party,” he explained, not looking at me. “I can’t believe the Alpha called me for something so trivial. There are people in this pack who genuinely need my help, not…” his words trailed off. I stared at the window. My throat was dry, and my head was aching like crazy. I wanted to close my eyes, but the healer continued muttering. “Honestly, wasting my time on someone who’s probably just fine. It’s not like I have better things to do,” he said, as if I wasn’t lying right next to him. The room fell silent. After a few minutes, the door opened, and Dante stepped in. “What happened?” he asked the healer. “Nothing serious,” the healer said, waving his hand dismissively. “She’s been indoors too much. Likely a mix of stress and low energy. She’ll be fine after some rest and sunlight.” Dante crossed his arms. “She fainted in the middle of a party. That’s not nothing.” But the healer only sighed in frustration. “Alpha, I’ve told you what I think. If you don’t trust my judgment, perhaps you’d like to consult someone else. As I said, she just needs rest.” Dante’s jaw clenched as he thought for a moment. “Leave,” he ordered. The healer wasted no time gathering his things before leaving the room. When the door shut, the room fell silent again. I didn’t dare look at Dante—I was still staring at the ceiling—but I could feel his presence close. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” he finally asked. I closed my eyes as the headache worsened. “I’m fine,” I whispered. There was another wave of silence between us until I heard his footsteps retreating, followed by the door closing. Only then did I open my eyes. I managed to sit up and opened my drawer, picking up a bag containing pills. I grabbed the bottled water I always had next to my bed and gulped down the medicine. Without taking this, I wouldn’t be able to sleep. Chapter 3 The next days that followed, I started noticing Dante more often in the house than before. Although we never truly had a proper conversation, he wasn’t yelling like he used to. “My husband has been really cold and distant lately.” I overheard a conversation between two maids while I was walking down the hallway. They were whispering, but I could hear them clearly. “Do you have a child yet?” the older maid asked while the younger one shook her head. “I wanted to wait, but now… I don’t know. Maybe it was a mistake. He’s barely home, and when he is, it feels like we’re strangers.” “Ah, that’s just what happens with newlyweds. Men get restless, but trust me, once you give him a child, everything will change. He’ll return to his loving self. That’s how it’s always been.” I froze upon hearing those words. A child? Was that the answer? But Dante had never asked for one, which is why I never even considered it. But now… maybe… just maybe. That night, I found myself standing in front of Dante’s office, debating whether to knock or not. Just then, the door opened, and he stepped out. He looked surprised when he saw me there. His gaze shifted from my head to my toes. I was wearing a slightly transparent nightgown, but at the last minute, I had thrown a robe over it. “Dante,” I whispered. “Are you busy?” We had done this many times in the past. Whenever he wanted it, he would come to my room. But for the past year, he had stopped coming. I assumed he had grown tired of me. So, I never made a move—until now. “If you are not busy, I was thinking…” I tugged on his shirt, silently praying he wouldn’t reject me. To my surprise, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me inside, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click. My heart pounded in my chest. I reached for the tie of my robe, but before I could even pull it off, his lips crashed onto mine. He gripped me firmly, holding me in place as his mouth moved against mine. It felt like he was desperate. But even then… his kiss felt cold. Before I could even think, his hands were already at the tie of my robe, and it pulled open. It fell from my shoulders, and I stood there in just my nightgown and nothing underneath. He didn’t waste time, grabbing the hem of my nightgown and pulling it over my head. Now I was standing before him, nervously fidgeting with my fingers. His eyes darkened for a brief second before his expression went blank again. “Lie down,” he commanded. Without a second thought, I moved toward the bed, doing exactly what he told me to. The next morning, when I woke up, I was sore all over. Dante wasn’t in the room. He had left that same night as soon as he was done. Gosh, I regretted it instantly. Last night, although filled with pleasure, was emotionless. He didn’t utter a single word or make a single sound. Even when he released inside of me. Nothing. It felt like a machine doing its job, even worse than before. It took me a while to pick myself up and return to my room. And after that day, I saw less and less of Dante. He was always busy with work and even missed our usual morning breakfasts together. Two months passed in the blink of an eye, and nothing really changed. “I want to go to the beach,” I suddenly brought it up during breakfast. “I will arrange for us to go this weekend,” he said, looking at his phone. “No… just me. I want to go alone,” I said, and his eyes instantly snapped up to meet mine. “You want to go alone?” he repeated. “Why? Who do you want to meet?” “Why do you assume I want to meet someone?” I asked, but I was met with a cold glare, causing me to swallow nothing. “I heard your friend is in town.” He was talking about Ryder, my childhood best friend who had confessed his love to me in the past, but I had turned him down to be with Dante. Although I was aware he was in town, he still wasn’t the reason I was going to the beach. “I just want some time alone. I have been locked inside for too long. Didn’t the healer say that I needed more sunlight and fresh air?” I reminded him. He glared at me, then nodded. “Fine, I will make arrangements for a guard to accompany you.” Even though I wanted to argue, I knew it was pointless, so I nodded. That weekend, I went to the beach alone. Well, not alone. The guard was following me but from a distance. I inhaled the salty air and watched the crashing waves. I played in the sand and picked shells, trying to remind myself of the good old days. Sitting on the floor, I thought about Dante again. I missed him—or at least the version of him that I had married. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t notice the guard moving closer. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my back as a knife was plunged deep into my skin. I gasped, and before I could scream, he yanked the knife out, whispering, “The Blackwood family deserves to die.” A shiver ran down my spine, but before I could react, he raised the knife again, preparing to strike. “Hey!” A fisherman spotted us and shouted, rushing towards us and raising alarm. The guard, realizing he had been caught, ran away while I collapsed on the floor, struggling to breathe. “Stay with me, miss,” the fisherman panicked, reaching out for his phone. Ah! He didn’t recognize me. Thank God. If he did, he would have also left me to die. But even that didn’t stop me from losing more blood until I lost consciousness. Chapter 4 Dante’s POV I was at a pack meeting when I got the call that Amaya had been stabbed—by not just anyone, but one of my own men. “What?” I barked into the phone, startling the Alphas around me. My heart pounded violently in my chest, and for the first time in years, true fear gripped me. I left immediately, shifting into my wolf and racing toward the hospital. By the time I arrived, I was breathing heavily, and my hands were shaking. The doctor was waiting for me. “The wound was deep,” he started. “She lost a lot of blood. It will take at least a month for her to fully recover.” I frowned. “A month?” That didn’t make sense. With her wolf, she should be healed in a week at most. “There’s… something else.” The doctor hesitated. “Spit it out,” I growled. “Your wife was weeks pregnant, Alpha… but she lost the child due to the trauma.” Everything stopped. A ringing in my ear drowned out all other sound, and my eyes turned red. The doctor’s mouth was still moving, but I couldn’t hear him. Pregnant? Amaya was pregnant? My body moved before I could think, and I grabbed the doctor by the collar, slamming him against the wall. “You’re lying,” I snarled, my claws digging into his chest while my wolf howled in agony, wanting to break free. “She wasn’t pregnant! She would have told me!” “It’s still in the early stages… she must not have—” “She did this on purpose, didn’t she?” I cut him off. “She didn’t tell me because she planned to leave! She was going to run off with Ryder, wasn’t she?” I couldn’t think straight. This was Amaya’s fault. She had been distant, she wanted to go to the beach alone. She had let her guard down… I shoved the doctor away and turned, my fists clenched so tightly that my nails dug into my skin. When she woke up, I confronted her about the news, but she just stared at me, emotionless like she usually did. Even now, she felt no remorse. She didn’t shed a single tear, and that annoyed me. I gritted my teeth and stormed out of the room. The guard who had stabbed her was still on the run, so after she was discharged, I had her quarantined in her room. She wasn’t allowed to step out for anything, but just in case, I stationed two guards outside and monitored the maids going in and out of her room. All her meals and drinks had to go through me before they reached her. I wasn’t taking any chances. If she wanted to act emotionless, fine. But I wasn’t going to let her make another mistake—wasn’t going to let her run away or get the freedom she wanted because of her reckless decisions. For days, she barely spoke. She ate without complaint, bathed, and slept as if nothing had happened. Her indifference made me angry. Did she not care that she had lost our child? As for the guard who had stabbed her, I personally hunted him down. Kneeling before me, covered in dirt and blood, he trembled as he dared to meet my gaze. His lips quivered as he spoke. “I was doing you a favor, Alpha,” he choked out. “The Blackwood… they all deserve to die. She’s a—” I snapped his neck before he could finish. Though I felt I should have tortured him, should have made him suffer, I couldn’t waste another second on a traitor who thought he had the right to decide my fate. Wiping the blood off my hands, I turned to my men. “Burn his body. Let it be a warning to anyone else who dares to defy me.” They bowed their heads in obedience, dragging the corpse away. That night, I headed straight to her room unannounced to deliver the news. She was sitting by the window, staring at the moon, and didn’t turn around when I entered. “He’s dead,” I said. She didn’t respond. I clenched my fists, stepping closer. “I hunted him down myself. Snapped his neck like the traitor he was.” Still nothing. My jaw tightened. “Is that all you’re going to do? Just sit there and stare at moon like nothing happened?” Finally, she turned her head slightly. I flinched when I saw the emptiness in her eyes—she looked like a living corpse. “What do you want me to say, Alpha?” “You lost our child,” I growled, taking another step forward. “And you sit here as if you feel nothing.” Her lips pressed into a thin line. “What do you want me to do? Cry? Scream? You already decided this was my fault.” I scoffed. “Isn’t it?” She lowered her head. “Of course. Everything is always my fault.” My blood boiled, and I grabbed her by the arm, yanking her to her feet. “Don’t play games with me.” “Then let go.” I gritted my teeth, staring down at her, but then my eyes widened when my gaze reached her fingers—I saw her ring was missing. “Your ring… You took it off.” She looked at her hand, and when she saw it wasn’t there, she muttered, “Oh.” Oh. Just an oh. Even though I hated her, I never took off my ring. It was the only reminder of what we once shared. “That’s it?” I snarled. “You take off our bond like it meant nothing, and all you can say is ‘oh’? If you hated me this much, you should have just left.” Her lips curved into a small, bitter smile. “Didn’t I try?” “You—” “But you wouldn’t let me, so why are you surprised? You chained me to you. Did you really think a ring would change that?” “That’s enough,” I said, shutting my eyes and shoving her back onto the bed. I took a step back, running a hand through my hair. “Put the ring back on.” “No.” “That wasn’t a request.” “I can’t, because I didn’t take it off. It must have fallen off somewhere at the beach,” she said, turning back to face the window. “I will go search for it,” I said, stepping back and running my hand through my hair. She didn’t answer. “Go to bed.” I clenched my jaw, and without another word, I left, slamming the door behind me. Chapter 5 Dante POV Five Years Ago – Flashback “Did you sleep well?” I asked, running my fingers through Amaya’s silky hair as her head rested on my lap. “No,” she pouted, turning her face up to look at me. I smirked, brushing a loose strand behind her ear. “And why is that, princess?” She huffed dramatically. “Because you weren’t there.” It had only been a short mission—three days at the border—but she acted as if I had been gone for months. I chuckled, trailing my fingers down her jaw. “I told you I’d come back.” “You’re always leaving,” she muttered, crossing her arms. “And one day, you won’t.” My smirk faltered. Amaya was the Alpha’s only daughter, raised in the safety of the packhouse, protected like an egg. She had never known real war, real danger. And yet, she feared losing me more than anything. I gently tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze. “I will always come back to you.” She blinked, her emerald eyes searching mine for a moment before she whispered, “Promise?” I leaned down, brushing my lips against her forehead. “I swear it.” A small smile tugged at her lips, but I could still see the hesitation in her eyes. She didn’t like my life as a soldier, didn’t like the bloodshed or the risks. But she loved me enough to endure it. “Come with me next time,” she said, catching me off guard. I raised a brow. “What?” “On your next mission,” she said, propping herself up on her elbows. “I want to see what it’s like.” I laughed, shaking my head. “Absolutely not.” She scowled. “Why not?” “Because you’re the Alpha’s daughter,” I reminded her. “And your father would have my head if I let you anywhere near danger.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not a child, Dante.” “No, but you’re my princess,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to her palm. “And I won’t let anything happen to you.” She sighed in frustration but didn’t argue further. Instead, she curled up against me, resting her head on my chest. “Then don’t take so long next time,” she whispered, and I wrapped my arms around her, inhaling the familiar scent of lavender and honey. End of Flashback Ding! Ding! My phone vibrated, startling me out of my sleep. My neck was sore as I had dozed off at my desk. Glancing at my phone, I saw a message from Amaya. I frowned. “I’m sorry.” I scoffed. Sorry? She was apologizing? She should have done that sooner and made things easier for both of us, but she just had to be so stubborn. I picked up my pen to continue signing some documents. But then 10 minutes passed and I found myself just flipping the pages. “She never apologizes,” Mako, my wolf, said, and my hand froze. It was true. Amaya had never been one to admit when she was wrong, even in the past. She had always been proud, but more than that, she had always been distant, keeping her emotions hidden. Something wasn’t right. I immediately grabbed my phone to call her, but the line went straight to voicemail. I got up from my desk and sped past the hallway. There was no way she would have run away. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t… she couldn’t. When I got to her room, I saw two guards standing outside. “Has she left her room?” was the first thing I asked. “No, Alpha. In fact, she has been asleep for a while now. Told us not to disturb her,” one of them replied, and I sighed in relief. Well, that was good. At least she was actually apologizing, but why did I still feel uneasy? She hadn’t left. She was still here. But why wasn’t she answering me? I opened the door, and the moment I stepped inside, I saw her lying in her bed. I breathed another sigh of relief. “Something feels off,” Mako said. I walked closer to her and bent down beside her bed. When I touched her, her skin was cold, causing me to catch my breath. “Amaya,” I whispered, shaking her, but there was no response. “Amaya!” I shouted, shaking her harder, but still, no response. She wasn’t waking up. “No,” I whispered, backing away as my gaze shifted around the room, trying to pinpoint why—until it landed on her nightstand. My blood ran cold when I saw them. Scattered pills. Not one. Not two. Dozens. And they were all empty. My body froze as everything came crashing down. No… I stumbled back and rushed to her, shaking her violently this time. “Amaya! Wake up!” My hands were shaking as I checked the pulse in her wrist. I felt a pulse… but it was weak. Too weak. I turned to the guards at the door. “Get the healer! Get the doctor, NOW!” I watched the hours tick by as the healer worked on Amaya’s unconscious form. I stood by her bedside, clenching my fists while my wolf paced recklessly in my mind. “She’s stable,” the healer finally said, wiping sweat from his brow. “But her body is weak. It will take time before she wakes up, so she must be monitored closely.” I barely heard the last part before he bowed and left, leaving just the two of us alone. Right now, she looked so pale… like a ghost. I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed it before. I grabbed her wrist, feeling her faint pulse. “Look what you’ve done,” I muttered. How dare you try to leave me? “Isn’t this what you wanted?” Mako taunted. “Our mate almost died. Aren’t you supposed to be happy? You wanted this, didn’t you?” No. I shook my head. My breathing was becoming heavier, so I had to step back, but I almost stumbled. “I didn’t want her dead. I just… I just wanted her to suffer by my side.” She can’t leave me. Never. I won’t let that happen. | LEARN_MORE | https://getokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=18708&u | Galaxy in the Story | https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/ | 2,414 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | getokn.com | IMAGE | https://getokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=18708&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480650568_650286140831353_5265324428305249010_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=O3hZSdzA1TsQ7kNvgHy0WnR&_nc_oc=AdgkoagQaFU7et3AWppEs5Fk3KNqxbxXkzeg_zxNOCZL3wNmqjxBYR9AXHYjAM-QgqY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AnDMtC_VuoMvT8f604ncphW&oh=00_AYBKzaH4qS099daBv6hw9eivxfMUZ7TP4LNZ6-uO_ewBNg&oe=67C2EA3B | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Galaxy in the Story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-02-24 19:42 | active | 2625 | 0 | Matric Farwell dress | 🚨 Unlock All Channels with TV Streaming Device! amazing deal for you, unlimited access to all your favorite channels on any device. No more subscription fees or limited content - get it now and save money too! 👉GET HERE : https://www.easytechus.com/products/device | LEARN_MORE | https://www.easytechus.com/products/device | Waterproof Cosmetic Bag | https://www.facebook.com/61571830696664/ | 1 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | www.easytechus.com | VIDEO | https://www.easytechus.com/products/device | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476158375_1004729491516026_6926576126509356554_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Ly1Z_H5XiDkQ7kNvgEYUlxV&_nc_oc=Adi98NimZVIU9nWLFbI4Q943ieRoxe5xeTOGI8xKU3G3cvdFDW41WoR6yGOpjMBoFSA&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AfS5aO0CCUjE8qybIrTL5j6&oh=00_AYDFq0S-mgTuxmn2Pkh7pl0W5Cy91_6vkfeE0JDYHSr16w&oe=67C2E634 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Waterproof Cosmetic Bag | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-02-24 19:43 | active | 2625 | 0 | Read next chapter | Ever since my father passed away, Richard had taken on a brotherly role in my life, but he often disapproved of my closeness with other guys. Every time I found a boyfriend, Richard scared them off. I complained to my friend, "My brother is stricter than my mom!" Sandra handed me a bag of chips and thought for a moment. "Could it be that Richard likes you? You guys aren't even related by blood." Since then, I deliberately distanced myself from him, but during the New Year, he suddenly brought home a girl. "Tricia, call her sister-in-law." ===== Richard was only a year older than me, but he had always used his role as an older brother to control me. When I was younger, he'd scold me for skipping classes. As I grew older and started dating, he still interfered. One time, my friend joked, "Maybe Richard likes you? You guys aren't even related by blood." Since then, I had tried to keep my distance. But during the holidays, he suddenly brought a girl home. "Tricia, this is my girlfriend. Say 'Hi'." That night, I locked myself in my room and cried uncontrollably. He pulled me out from under the covers and gently wiped away my tears. "You could find a boyfriend to annoy me, but I couldn't do the same to you?" Lately, luck hadn't been on my side. Every time I found a boyfriend, Richard scared them off. I complained to my friend, "My brother is stricter than my mom!" Sandra handed me a bag of chips and thought for a moment. "Could it be that Richard likes you? You guys aren't even related by blood." It was true. My dad and his dad had been old friends, and ever since my dad passed away, his family had been taking care of us. My mother had always told me to treat Richard like a real brother. Even though we weren't related by blood, he was more responsible than any real brother. Back in school, he would watch me do my homework every day and even lecture me if I skipped class. He was only a year older than me, but he had always acted like an adult. Whenever I did something wrong, he'd scold me faster than my mom. "Tricia, that's not polite. Don't do that." "Tricia, don't talk badly about people behind their backs." The thought that he might like me sent chills down my spine. "Don't say that! You're going to give me nightmares!" After leaving Sandra's house, her words kept echoing in my head, as if they had put a spell on me. That night, I dreamed that Richard cornered me at the stairwell, gripping my chin and ki*sing me forcefully. "Who said you could get a boyfriend?" I woke up in a cold sweat, terrified, and immediately blocked his number. Thankfully, I was about to start my internship and wouldn't be home much longer. When I opened the door the next morning, Richard just happened to be walking by. Instinctively, I stepped back and slammed the door shut. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his cold, piercing stare. It felt like a blade cutting right through me. Later that evening, we went to his apartment for dinner. In front of everyone, he asked why I had blocked his number. I stammered, unable to come up with a reason, and had no choice but to unblock him. "I must've clicked the wrong button..." Trying to appease him, I offered him a piece of chicken with a flattering smile. "Richard, you look so thin! You should eat more meat." But something I said must've annoyed him because he even moved his plate farther away. "No need." I had found my internship on my own, even though Richard strongly opposed it and insisted I join his company. But this time, I stood my ground and firmly refused. I was too afraid that if we spent too much time together, something would happen. The apartment we were living in had been rented by Richard, thinking I'd work at his company and we'd commute together. But after starting my job, I found a new place to avoid seeing him as much as possible. My mother would text me every day, asking what I wanted to eat. She'd have the servant cook it and then deliver it to me. I'd give her a whole list of dishes, but Richard was always the one who showed up at my door. I almost slammed it shut again. But when I saw the angry look in his eyes, I stopped myself. I forced a smile and took the food container from him. "Richard, I've missed you." He ignored me, walking around the apartment to inspect the place. "Tricia, I send you so much money every month, and this is where you live? Where's all the money gone?" I hadn't touched a cent of the money he gave me. I didn't want to owe him or his family too much. But I didn't dare tell him that. He'd just accuse me of treating him like a stranger. Honestly, my mother gave me plenty of money every month too, but I had a habit of splurging on my favorite celebrities, so I had to cut costs elsewhere. "I'm investing. High returns, you know." Being a fan was an investment, especially for a toptier star like Lanny--his merch was incredibly popular. Once I got him out of my apartment, I finally breathed a sigh of relief. I swore I'd never overindulge again! Starting my new job, I often joined my colleagues for meals to fit in better. Eventually, I ran out of money and had to call my mother for help. She transferred $50, 000 to me but gave me a strict warning. "If you waste this money on a man again, I'm cutting you off." Chapter 2 Richard's Furious Because I Spent Money On Another Guy Her voice was so loud that my colleagues started giving me strange looks. I was exasperated. I had explained to her more than once that being a fan just meant liking a celebrity and spending some money on their endorsements. But my mom never listened and kept scolding me. "Spending money on men is pointless! You should be the one letting them spend money on you, got it?" Just as I was about to argue with her again, I heard a familiar voice on the other end of the phone. "Mrs. Reynolds, has Tricia gotten a boyfriend?" Why was Richard at my home? Startled, I immediately hung up the phone. The restaurant we picked was pretty popular, and we had to wait over an hour for a table. While we were waiting, a crowd suddenly started gathering. I glanced over and saw Lanny trying to make his way through the mob. Well, no wonder the place was packed--it's a hotspot for celebrities, and fans love to flock to places like this. Lanny saw me and headed my way, with a swarm of fans trailing behind him. It was a little intimidating. Wearing sunglasses, he looked cool, but in reality, he was a total goofball. "Tricia, you're here at my restaurant? Aren't you worried Richard will get angry?" Back in high school, Lanny and I were in the same class. He was great at math, and Sandra and I once went to his house to do homework. He casually put his arm around my shoulder, like we were just buddies, and neither of us thought much of it. But when Richard found out, he beat Lanny up. Ever since then, the two couldn't stand each other. I sighed helplessly. "If I'd known this was your restaurant, I wouldn't have come." I was a fan of Lanny--I went to his concerts and bought his endorsements, but I rarely paid attention to his personal life. One time, he recognized me from the stage and said he'd just give me a ticket next time, but I turned him down. Being a fan meant spending my own money; otherwise, it was not called being a fan, it was just being friends. Lanny handed me a membership card, saying I could eat at his restaurant for free from now on. I took it, thinking that if my mom ever really cut off my funds, at least I'd have a place to get a free meal. After dinner, I got home and saw Richard standing outside my door. I instinctively tried to retreat, but he was quick and called out to me. "Tricia, come here." For some reason, I always felt guilty around Richard. All I ever wanted to do was run away. "Richard, why are you here? Have you eaten yet?" He sneered, and despite it being hot, I felt a chill down my spine. "If I didn't show up, how would I know you're out here spending time with some guy?" I opened the door and explained that it was all just a misunderstanding. But he wasn't having it. He kept pressing, demanding to know who the guy was. I refused to tell him, thinking if he found out I'd spent money on Lanny, he'd beat him heavily. Then he gave me an ultimatum. "A kept man can't make you happy. Break up with him immediately." As I stood up, the card Lanny gave me fell to the floor. I quickly bent down to pick it up, but Richard was faster. He stared at me, eyes full of rage. "You don't even have money for yourself, and you're out here paying for his meals?" I was speechless as he stormed out of the apartment. Two hours later, Laurence, Richard's assistant, called me, practically in tears. "Tricia, what did you do to upset Mr. Stewart this time? I had just finished getting ready for bed when he called me back to the office to revise the proposal. I can't be on call 24/7!" I often visited Richard at his office, so I had gotten close with his secretaries and assistants. Since starting my internship, I knew all too well the pain of being forced to work overtime. Besides, they always gave me useful information--I couldn't just leave them hanging. I called Richard, and he picked up on the third ring, clearly still furious. I was trying to think of a way to coax him without making it obvious, but he was impatient. "Say something." My mind raced. Flattery never failed. "Richard, I heard you're still working overtime? You work so hard! With you in charge, the company is sure to thrive!" He didn't seem impressed. "If I didn't work my butt off, where would you get the money to spoil some guy?" Seeing that talking wouldn't help, I bought some snacks and headed to his office. When I arrived, the lights were still on, even though it was already ten o'clock. The tension in the air was palpable. Before I even reached the conference room, I could already hear Richard's angry voice inside. Chapter 3 I Thought Richard Liked Me, But He Brought Home A Girlfriend "Did I hire you to sit around gossiping all day?" "What kind of proposal is this? Is this your first day on the job? Take it back and redo it." I knocked on the door but didn't wait for a reply before entering. Everyone inside looked at me as if I were their savior, and I could see the gratitude in their eyes. Richard was caught off guard for a moment--he hadn't expected me to show up. I cleared my throat, walked up to him, and set the food down. "Richard, you should eat something. Mrs. Stewart said you haven't had dinner." He didn't move at first, so I grabbed his arm and guided him toward his office. As I closed the door behind us, I gave the others an "OK" signal. Richard's expression softened a bit, but he still looked like he wasn't in the mood to talk. I brought him a bowl of noodles, and he didn't even leave a single bite of meat. He must've been starving. "Richard, you need to take care of yourself. Work will never end. If you keep this up, your parents will be worried sick." He looked into my eyes, and I saw a mix of emotions--too many for me to make sense of. "And what about you?" I started tidying up the takeout container, avoiding his gaze. "Of course, I'm worried too. Why else would I come looking for you in the middle of the night?" My attempt to coax him worked. He picked up his jacket, slung it over his arm, and got ready to leave. "I'll take you home. It's not safe for you to walk alone at night." In the car, I avoided his eyes, pretending to look out the window at the passing scenery. For several days, I didn't contact Richard. My mom thought we were fighting and kept urging me not to be stubborn. "Don't be so willful. Richard is busy with work, and he still makes time to take care of you." I didn't know how to explain it to her, so I just stayed silent. As work got busier, I pushed the matter to the back of my mind. We spoke occasionally, but only about work-related things. Eventually, he became distant with me. I sighed with relief, but at the same time, I felt an odd emptiness inside. Time flew by, and before I knew it, Christmas was approaching. The company gave us a holiday starting three days before Christmas. Coincidentally, Lanny was holding a concert in Alodon, so I flew over to catch it and even took a photo with him afterward. Lanny said we hadn't taken a picture together in years and asked me to send him one. I did, and moments later, I saw him post it on Facebook. "Great concert! Thanks to all the friends who came from far and wide." When I returned to Pheldence, it was Christmas Eve. For some reason, I couldn't shake this feeling of unease. Every year, our families took turns hosting the family dinner, and this year it was at Richard's house. As soon as I walked in, I heard laughter coming from the living room. I headed toward the sound and saw a gentle, elegant girl sitting on the couch. She had long hair, was dressed in a luxury coat, and carried a limited-edition handbag. Clearly, she was the same type of person as Richard. The most important thing was that she was sitting next to him, with her hand linked through his arm. Richard didn't even look at me. His attention was completely on her. I felt an inexplicable surge of frustration and placed my things on the coffee table a bit too forcefully. My mom shot me a sharp look. "Tricia, can you show some manners? You just walked in, and you're already giving attitude." Richard smiled--barely, but I noticed it. Sitting across from them, their closeness felt glaringly obvious. "So, what should I call you?" I asked the girl. For the first time since I arrived, Richard actually looked at me. "Tricia, this is my girlfriend. Say 'Hi'." I didn't know what to say. Suddenly, I understood where that feeling of unease had been coming from. Richard was in a relationship, and I was the one who felt the most hurt. I quickly greeted her, but despite the feast in front of me, everything tasted bland and unappetizing. Once I got home, I rushed to my room, buried myself under the covers, and let the tears flow freely. I didn't know how much time had passed when I suddenly heard the door creak open. I hastily wiped away my tears, pretending to be asleep. Someone walked slowly to my bedside. I could feel his gaze on me as he crouched down. He pulled at my blanket, and though I clung to it, I couldn't match his strength. I opened my eyes to see Richard standing by my bed with a faint smile. "Tricia, why are you crying just because I'm in a relationship?" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/61215322-fb_contact-e | Heat Novel A | https://www.facebook.com/100089743291944/ | 610 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/61215322-fb_contact-enad50_2-250126-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=40775B4BFB7D9725885F7F58D32BBC7EAC33A3666F8B6BCD | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475122904_590396010468731_3125536487044633971_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=NeVjZq7OcUQQ7kNvgGgEkUI&_nc_oc=AdiWtcfNMadIMWu9iOCb99PmyQ16BE1u42kLY6VMrPMM8s62JsyBtlKSZ9Cd_Dy8qB6ePJo1zqCdoLwolc8YJ9Th&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AxUCfqHCRhS8-4F7doSzs-U&oh=00_AYAXaikAwzdG1h5DCxbmhYD9LxEqv79sMMRucynHBquWow&oe=67C2F9C9 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Heat Novel A | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Read next chapter | She was overjoyed when she found out she was pregnant, but she saw her husband having intimate with his first love. She left the divorce agreement in tears, hiding her pregnant belly and departing with a broken heart... ===== "Ms. Wright, congratulations! Your baby's very healthy." Jenessa Wright walked out of the hospital in a daze, clutching the pregnancy test result close to her chest. She was pregnant with Ryan's baby! Looking down, she absentmindedly caressed her still-flat belly and broke into a smile. Grinning like silly, Jenessa hurriedly took out her phone to call Ryan Haynes, her husband, excited to share the wonderful news. However, just as she was about to dial his number, her phone buzzed. It read, "Come to Imodon Hotel right now." It was a message from Ryan. Imodon Hotel? Why'd he want her to go there all of a sudden? Jenessa was puzzled, but she didn't hesitate for long. She hailed a cab and headed straight to the hotel. Since Ryan wanted to see her, she figured she might as well tell him the good news in person. With her heart pounding in anticipation, Jenessa arrived at the hotel. As soon as she stepped out of the car, she noticed the lobby was adorned with flowers and a brand-new red carpet, clearly prepared for a celebration. Jenessa paused, momentarily stunned, before remembering that today was their wedding anniversary. Could it be that Ryan had asked her to come here to surprise her? She smiled to herself, wondering idly how Ryan would react to the news of her pregnancy. Jenessa wove her way through the crowd, her plain attire blending into the festive scene unnoticed. It didn't take long for her to spot the dazzlingly handsome man, who easily stood out among the crowd. He was none other than her husband, Ryan Haynes, the father of their child. Just as a smile started to form on her lips, she spotted the woman standing next to Ryan, and her smile froze. That woman was Ryan's first love, Maisie Powell! Since when was Maisie back in town? Jenessa stood glued to her spot, paralyzed as she watched Ryan and Maisie entertain the guests like a perfect couple. Friends surrounded the two, and they seemed to be offering them their congratulations. "Maisie, you're finally home. This deserves a toast!" "Ryan, after all these years, you and Maisie have finally reunited. Doesn't that call for a celebratory drink?" Gradually, the teasing grew louder. Maisie, dressed to the nines in a s*xy red dress and exquisite makeup, chuckled graciously. "Quit teasing us, you guys. Ryan already has a wife." At the mention of Jenessa, the people around showed disdain. "Jenessa? Please! Ryan only married her to appease his grandma!" "Exactly! Ryan has always wanted to marry you. Right, Ryan?" Ryan, looking like a prince in his custom-tailored suit, radiated a cool, unique charisma. "Alright, enough already; stop teasing Maisie," he said coolly. "She can't drink; let me drink on her behalf." As soon as he said this, his friends' laughter and teasing grew even more intense. "Hey, Ryan, what the heck? You're being so protective of her, aren't you? Fine! If she can't drink, then you'll have to drink her share! And you're not allowed to leave until you've finished!" Amidst the boisterous teasing, Ryan remained cool and collected, but there was an unmistakable hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Next to him, Maisie lowered her head and blushed shyly. This loving scene was so glaring that it pierced Jenessa's heart. She didn't know when or how, but she somehow ended up outside the hotel, only realizing it when the cold raindrops hit her face. The chilly wind and drizzling rain enveloped her, and in no time, a fierce storm broke out, soaking her to her bones. Still, she didn't move an inch and simply stared blankly at the rain. Why had Ryan called her over? Was this all just a ploy to make her witness their affection and gracefully surrender her place as his wife to his beloved Maisie? Jenessa's breathing grew heavy. Looking around in a daze, she figured there was nothing she could do but leave this wretched place. With stiff, deliberate steps, she trudged home in the rain. Standing at the doorway, she gazed at the familiar house, her thoughts drifting. Two years ago, when her family was on the brink of bankruptcy, they tried salvaging their situation by marrying her off into the Haynes family. Ryan was initially unwilling, but because his gravely ill grandma kept pressuring him, he reluctantly agreed to the arranged marriage. Now that his grandma's health had improved and Maisie was back from abroad, Jenessa thought maybe it was time for her to pack her things and leave Ryan. Jenessa didn't know how long she stood in front of the house before the sound of a car engine reached her ears. Then, Ryan's deep voice spoke beside her. "Jenessa, why are you standing here, out in the rain?" Chapter 2 I Want A Divorce In a daze, Jenessa looked up, only to meet the stern gaze of the man standing before her. Was she seeing things? What was Ryan doing here? Maisie had just returned from abroad; shouldn't he be spending time with the woman he loved? Ryan couldn't help but frown when he didn't receive a response from Jenessa. Jenessa, soaking wet from the rain, looked like a drowned rat. With her long, dark hair plastered to her pale cheeks, water dripping steadily from the ends, she seemed so helpless and pitiful. "What on earth happened to you?" Ryan questioned, his tone sounding a bit harsher than intended. Jenessa recalled how gentle and affectionate he was with Maisie at the hotel earlier, causing her heart to ache. It was painfully clear that Ryan's attitude towards the woman he loved and the one he didn't were worlds apart. Trying hard to swallow the bitter taste in her mouth, Jenessa forced a smile and softly explained, "It started raining on my way back home, and I didn't have an umbrella, so I got drenched-" While speaking, her nose suddenly itched unbearably, and she couldn't help but sneeze loudly. But instead of pitying her, Ryan only frowned deeper. "You're not a child anymore. If you get caught in the rain, the first thing you should do when you get home is dry off and change your clothes. Do I really need to spell things out for you?" The smile on Jenessa's face stiffened. "I-I'm sorry..." "Go get changed quickly, or else you'll catch a cold." Ryan seemed too impatient with her to say anything more, so he bypassed her and walked inside the house. Catch a cold? Only then did Jenessa remember that she was pregnant; she couldn't afford to get sick, lest she put the baby in harm's way. With that in mind, she hurried to her room, took a hot shower, and let the warm water chase away the chill. Wrapped in a towel, she stepped out of the steam-filled bathroom, only to find Ryan standing in her way. She gasped in surprise and instinctively clutched her towel more tightly around her chest. Ryan's sharp gaze remained fixed on her, and upon noticing her reaction, he asked indifferently, "Why should you be nervous? It's nothing I haven't already seen." Jenessa's face flushed bright red as memories of their passionate, intimate nights together flashed before her eyes. Without waiting for a response, Ryan casually held out a cold medicine pill and a glass of water. "Here, take this." Jenessa hesitantly glanced at the pill in his hand, worried that it might not be good for the baby. "Well, I think I'll be fine without it. After all, I was only in the rain for a while." Unexpectedly, Ryan refused to let her off the hook. "Have you seen yourself in the mirror? You're as pale as a ghost. We're visiting Grandma tomorrow, so you'd better not get sick, you hear me?" But Jenessa, worried about the baby, stubbornly resisted. "I just need to drink something warm, that's all. I'm fine, really." At this point, Ryan's patience wore thin. He decisively popped the pill in his mouth and drank some water from the glass. "Ryan, what're you- Agh!" Before Jenessa could get another word out, Ryan leaned closer, his tall frame looming over her, and grabbed her delicate chin. Forcing her to raise her head, he planted his lips firmly on hers. The pill and water then flowed into her mouth, and he didn't loosen his grip until he was certain that she had swallowed the pill. The sudden kiss made Jenessa dizzy, washing away all her inhibitions. Ryan's desires were stirred, and he carried her over to the bed. He pulled away from her for the briefest of moments to undo his tie, his eyes burning with an all-consuming desire for her. When Jenessa met his intense gaze, she snapped back to reality and cried out, "No!" Trembling, she pushed against his rock-hard chest. "Hmm?" Ryan stopped in his tracks, wondering if he had misheard. He tried to kiss Jenessa again, but she decisively turned her head away, avoiding his eyes. "Ryan, I..." She gulped, struggling to get the words out. "I want a divorce." Her words extinguished Ryan's desires in the blink of an eye. Annoyance flashing across his face, he coldly grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at him, his deep eyes staring piercingly into hers. "Say that again?" Jenessa's heart skipped a beat. Still, she managed to suppress the turbulent emotions inside her and bravely met Ryan's intense gaze. "I said, I want a divorce." A flicker of unreadable emotion crossed Ryan's eyes. "Why?" Jenessa was taken aback by his question, confusion and bewilderment evident on her face. Why else? To fulfill his wish to marry his beloved Maisie, of course. "Because..." Her voice trailed off feebly, unable to utter the obvious. "Is your family in financial trouble again? This is about money?" Ryan looked down at her icily. "Jenessa, don't you know your place? If you need something, just say it. Don't play these little games with me, because I do not have the patience for this bullshit." Jenessa quietly clenched her fists and gritted her teeth. So, Ryan assumed that her request for a divorce was just one of her games, an attempt to leverage the situation for her benefit? Jenessa smiled bitterly, but her eyes showed a look of uncharacteristically fierce determination. "Don't worry. I don't want anything but a divorce. Ryan, we were going to get a divorce sooner or later, so what difference does it make?" Ryan didn't respond immediately. He just stared at her with a strange, serious look in his eyes. His silence sent Jenessa into a trance, a mix of anxiety and inexplicable flicker of hope taking root in her heart. "Or... do you not want a divorce?" Chapter 3 Look Out, World! The thought that Ryan might want to stay married made Jenessa's heart skip a beat, her chest heaving from anticipation. However, under her hopeful gaze, Ryan scoffed coldly. "Jenessa, don't kid yourself." His tone was full of mockery, each word piercing her heart like a knife. "Do you really think I'd say 'no' to a divorce?" He locked eyes with her, his gaze icy cold. "Remember this, Jenessa-you're the one who asked for a divorce. You'd better not come crawling back to me when it's all said and done." With that, he got out of bed and left, slamming the door behind him. Jenessa lay despondently on the bed, her heart heavy with disappointment. Tears rolling down her cheeks, she gently placed a hand on her belly, feeling the little life growing inside her. She had originally planned to tell Ryan the good news, but in the span of just a few hours, they were on the brink of divorce. After thinking about it a moment or two, she decided it was best to keep Ryan in the dark about her pregnancy. Even if they separated ways, she could raise the baby on her own. Then, thinking about her job as Ryan's secretary, she felt a pang of helplessness. Ryan's grandma had arranged for her to work under Ryan to nurture their relationship, and back then, it seemed like a good idea. But now, things were different, and it was high time she left that job. The following morning, as soon as Jenessa arrived at the WorldLink Group's headquarters, a few of her more gossipy colleagues surrounded her. "Jenessa, we've been waiting for you all morning! What's going on with Mr. Haynes and that Maisie girl? Are they an item now?" "News of Mr. Haynes throwing a welcome-home party for international supermodel Maisie Powell went viral overnight. He even invited all his friends. Looks like he's planning to make their relationship public soon!" "I heard that after the party, they spent the night together. Maybe she's his future wife!" Jenessa felt a pang of bitterness as she listened. After a brief hesitation, she replied despondently, "I don't know much about it." Her colleagues exchanged glances and rolled eyes. Obviously, they didn't believe her. "Come on, Jenessa! You're Mr. Haynes' secretary. You know him better than anyone. How could you not know any insider information? Just spill the beans already!" Jenessa forced a weak smile. Everyone knew that she was Ryan's secretary, but very few people knew that she was also Ryan's wife. He was even reluctant to make their relationship public. With a soft sigh, she stood her ground more firmly. "I really don't know, okay? Enough with the gossip." The colleagues wanted to press her further, but Jenessa cut them off before they could get another word out. "I said there's nothing to say, so quit pestering me. Were you all hired just to gossip? Get back to work, all of you!" Her stern expression made them uneasy, but she was right; they had to comply. "Okay, okay, we get it." As Jenessa walked away, they couldn't help but mutter and grumble among themselves. "Who does she think she is? Acting all high and mighty. Humph! She's not the only secretary here." "Yeah, when she started working here out of the blue three years ago, we all thought she had some kind of relationship with Mr. Haynes. But in the end, he didn't pay her any special attention-never took her to meetings with clients. She's his personal secretary, but what of it? Just eye candy!" "Her days here are numbered. Once Maisie marries Mr. Haynes, Jenessa will be the first one to go. After all, who would trust a pretty secretary around their man?" "Exactly!" Their laughter and unrestrained chatter filled the office, but Jenessa turned a deaf ear to it all and walked straight to her desk, immersing herself in her work. She knew how those seemingly friendly colleagues truly saw her. But she couldn't argue with them, because even she herself felt like a joke. Before she knew it, it was time to get off work, and most of the secretaries had already gone home. Just as Jenessa was packing her things, she received a call from her best friend, Brinley Lloyd. "Hey, I saw the news this morning. What the hell is going on with Ryan and that Maisie girl? Just rumors, right?" Hearing the disbelief in Brinley's voice, Jenessa sighed heavily. "It's true." Brinley gasped in shock mixed with horror. "What the hell?!" Throughout the day, Jenessa had thought things through, so she was relatively calm as she explained, "In the first place, Ryan and I only got married as part of an agreement. I always knew he had no feelings for me; he only married me because his grandma insisted. Now that the woman he loves is back in the picture, there's no reason for me to stay. It's time to let them be together." Brinley felt both incredulous and indignant. "But... What about the baby? Weren't you going to surprise him?" "Would it be a wonderful surprise to him? Or a horrifying shock?" Jenessa instinctively touched her flat belly, a bitter smile on her lips. "Anyway, what matters is I've made up my mind- I want a divorce, and I'll raise this baby on my own. There's no need for him to know." "Seriously, a divorce? Are you sure about that?" Brinley sounded very concerned. "If you don't want him to know you're pregnant, then you can't keep working at WorldLink. Your belly will get bigger and bigger." "Don't worry, I'm way ahead of you. I'll resign soon. Then, I can finally go back to doing what I truly love." The mention of her long-lost dreams brought a rare smile to Jenessa's face. "Oh, my God! Jenessa, are you going back to your old career?" Brinley was thrilled. "That's fantastic! I always believed in you! You're a genius designer! Look out, world-Sloane Todd, a legend in the fashion design world, is coming! You shouldn't have wasted your talents as Ryan's secretary all these years. He's not worth it!" "Sloane Todd..." Jenessa felt a bit dazed at the mention of that long-forgotten pseudonym. For Ryan, she had lost herself for so long. She almost forgot who she truly was. "Jenessa." A magnetic, masculine voice suddenly sounded behind her. Startled, Jenessa whirled around to find a stern-looking Ryan standing behind her. Chapter 4 A Bun In The Oven "Ry-I mean, Mr. Haynes! What are you doing here?" Jenessa was so startled that she fumbled for the right words, having been caught completely off guard. She hurriedly ended the call, her jittery gaze searching Ryan's face for any signs of anger, feeling inexplicably scared and flustered. When had Ryan arrived? How much had he overheard? "Weren't we supposed to visit Grandma at the hospital today?" Ryan asked, impatience evident in his tone. Only then did Jenessa remember that they had indeed made plans that day. Lowering her head apologetically, she murmured, "I... I'm sorry." "Hmph," Ryan grunted indifferently. As though unwilling to spare another glance at her, he turned around and walked out, saying briskly, "Let's go." It took the dazed Jenessa a second before she snapped to her senses and quickly caught up to him. On the way to the hospital, her mind was in turmoil. A complex mix of emotions plagued her heart as she anxiously wondered if Ryan had overheard her conversation with Brinley. But then she figured, if Ryan had heard that she planned to secretly raise their baby on her own, he wouldn't be so calm now. The two sat side by side in the back seat in complete silence. Naturally, Jenessa's distracted demeanor was a bit hard to ignore. Ryan couldn't stand it anymore. Brows furrowed, he turned his head slightly and demanded, "What's going on with you?" His deep voice startled Jenessa, interrupting her thoughts. "N-nothing," she stammered hastily. "Is that so?" Ryan spoke slowly, his tone carrying a hint of doubt. Jenessa's racing heart pounded in her chest. Just as she opened her mouth to defend herself, Ryan's magnetic voice suddenly sounded again, this time a lot closer to her ear. "If it really is nothing, then why are you avoiding me? Why won't you look at me, hmm?" Jenessa, frozen in place, dared not move an inch. A barely audible scoff escaped Ryan as he reached out one hand, gently grasping the back of her neck. From the corner of her eye, Jenessa saw him leaning in slowly...... ...... ==== To the public, she was the CEO's executive secretary. Behind closed doors, she was the wife he never officially acknowledged. Jenessa was elated when she learned that she was pregnant. But that joy was replaced with dread as her husband, Ryan, showered his affections on his first love. With a heavy heart, she chose to set him free and leave, only to be caught by Ryan... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://web.weread.mobi/57632322-fb_contact-enr25_ | Fun Novel | https://www.facebook.com/100090881055588/ | 1,343 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | web.weread.mobi | IMAGE | https://web.weread.mobi/57632322-fb_contact-enr25_2-c3-0727-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=1435595577085911&exdata=E7C53BDECE0DE88BFC44FAD7FA9F79428B34AC643DA42A31 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476133661_1678962803027166_4544862421390006173_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=C4bS2z8RZTkQ7kNvgEZnCSB&_nc_oc=Adj4bpvwseANDmv1QzlCbBOzfUHQTRP2kU2bxf5-GVWIK5V0X9zSYNyY4pnrjnsu9N8wjxoAW8bp6oGpEO-B7kV9&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AZ7xhMnaVxEzdMtHvuiDLeL&oh=00_AYDNUZLSdfVBw8AzpApd_QcVt9NFhBxrJIu_Mqcjnddfsg&oe=67C2FD77 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Fun Novel | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-02-24 19:43 | active | 2625 | 0 | 🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉 | The brilliant lights in the hall dimmed, leaving a concentrated glow upon the stage. The bride and groom stood bathed in radiance—she in her flowing white gown, he in his impeccably tailored suit. They were the perfect picture of beauty and elegance. The background music shifted, rising into a crescendo, infusing the air with a palpable sense of excitement. The wedding ceremony had reached its peak. Deidre clasped her left hand over her right, her palms damp with sweat beneath the delicate white gloves. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, each beat echoing like a drum in her ears. She was so nervous it felt as though her heart might leap into her throat. Her gaze settled on the man before her, a mix of elation and unease swirling within her. Micah Landon—one of Salve City's most eligible bachelors, heir to one of its most powerful families—was about to marry her. It felt surreal, like a fairy tale come to life. A Cinderella marrying her prince, with all the incredulity that entailed. Micah stood tall in his sharply cut suit, his handsome face composed, his demeanor radiating charm and distinction. The unframed glasses perched on his high-bridged nose softened the sharpness of his features, lending his eyes a gentle warmth that seemed deeper than usual. "And now, let's have the bride and groom exchange rings!" The emcee's voice was vibrant, his enthusiasm infectious. A poised bridesmaid stepped forward, carrying a tray with a red velvet base upon which the wedding rings rested. Micah's gaze lowered to the open ring box, and for a fleeting moment, his calm façade faltered. His gentle, smiling expression froze ever so slightly. The warmth and softness in his eyes disappeared entirely, replaced by an unfamiliar coldness. Deidre followed his gaze to the rings, her brow furrowing in confusion. These weren't the rings they had chosen together. What was going on? Micah's hand hovered over the ring box but didn't move to pick one up. An awkward pause settled over the ceremony. The emcee hesitated, his expression reflecting the growing tension in the room. Then a shout broke through the silence. "What's that on the screen?" Heads turned toward the massive display behind them. Deidre instinctively followed their gaze. The screen, which had been playing a slideshow of their sweet, romantic pre-wedding photos, now displayed a completely different set of images. The pictures still showed a man and a woman, but the man wasn't Micah. The first photo revealed Deidre being intimately embraced by a stranger outside a hotel. The next showed her leaning into the same man in a hotel room, their bodies close on a bed. The lively background music continued to play, a jarring contrast to the now stifling atmosphere. Whispers swept through the crowd, their eyes darting toward Deidre. Daring to humiliate Micah, the powerful and revered heir, on his wedding day? And this bride, from her modest family background, had the audacity to wear such a scandalous stain on her character? Deidre felt as if lightning had struck her. Panic surged through her as she snapped her gaze toward Micah. His attention was fixed on the screen. The light from the display reflected off his glasses, making it impossible for Deidre to discern his expression. But the tight line of his lips and the vein bulging at his temple revealed enough. A cold blade seemed to pierce her chest, twisting sharply. The once cheerful wedding music now felt like a cruel mockery. "Micah, I didn't—" Deidre started, her voice trembling. Micah's gaze finally shifted to her, his eyes icy and unreadable behind his glasses. The storm brewing in them made her heart sink further. "I…" She wanted to explain, but no words came. The images on the screen were a mystery to her. She had no memory of them, no explanation for their existence. Who would do this to her? Who would want to ruin her like this? Micah's expression grew colder, a mocking glint appearing in his eyes. He didn't say a word. Instead, he glanced at the bridesmaid holding the tray of rings. He picked up one of the rings, turned sharply, and walked away. "Micah, don't go!" Deidre cried, lifting the hem of her gown as she rushed after him. She grabbed his hand, desperate to stop him. He halted briefly, turning to look at her. His lips curved in a faint, mocking smile, his voice low and biting. "This wedding…" He trailed off, his gaze flicking back to the screen where yet another photo appeared—Deidre asleep in bed, her features serene. Beside her, the same stranger propped his head on one hand, gazing at her with a tenderness that seemed all too intimate. Micah's faint smirk turned into a derisive laugh. "…is off." Each word struck Deidre like an arrow, sinking deep into her heart and leaving a searing pain in their wake. He shook off her hand with enough force to send her stumbling backward. She staggered, unable to steady herself, and fell to the ground, her pristine white gown pooling around her like a defeated flag. Chapter 2 The wedding host, visibly flustered as the groom turned and walked away, hastily gestured to the sound engineer to cut the music. As the cheerful background tunes abruptly ceased, the atmosphere shifted, the murmur of the crowd swelling into an unabashed roar of judgment and speculation. "They've been engaged for over a year, and now this scene unfolds at the wedding? Utter humiliation," someone remarked loudly. "She looks so pure, doesn't she? But clearly, she's got other, shall we say, talents that hooked Micah. Guess she practiced those talents with plenty of others. Walk along the river long enough, and you'll get your feet wet. Someone probably got fed up and exposed her. Tsk, tsk." That particular comment sliced through the air like a shard of glass, sharp and cutting. "Nonsense! I didn't do any of that!" Deidre screamed, her voice raw with desperation. Her outburst only added fuel to the fire. None of the attendees spared her even a modicum of sympathy. They were there for the prestige of the Landon family. Now that she had been abandoned by Micah, who was she to them? A nobody, someone to ridicule without consequence. "Look at her, losing her temper. How unsightly." "Exactly. Instead of finding a hole to crawl into, she's still yelling at others." "Such shameless defiance. Playing the victim while pretending to be saintly—what a joke." "If my daughter ever turned out like this, I'd beat her to death." "Let's go. The wedding's clearly over." The voices piled up, overlapping in waves of cruelty. Deidre's head buzzed with a hollow static. None of it made sense. How had the day turned into this nightmare? No. It couldn't end like this. She slipped off her high heels, hoisting up the heavy layers of her wedding gown, and ran after Micah. Outside the hotel, Micah stood by the open door of his car, flipping through some documents. The sight of him brought a glimmer of hope to Deidre's heart, and she quickened her steps. "Micah!" she called out, her voice trembling with both fear and longing. His hand froze mid-turn, but he didn't look up. Tears welled in Deidre's reddened eyes. "How can you just leave me like this? How can you believe those photos without even hearing me out?" Micah finally lifted his gaze, his eyes cold and detached, like a winter wind slicing through her skin. "One week ago," he began, his voice steady but unyielding, "Westin Hotel, Room 309. Was it you?" The precision of his words hit her like a jolt. A specific time, a specific place—her memory stirred reluctantly to life. Her breath hitched as fragments resurfaced. She had been there. It was her sister Valerie's 18th birthday party, and they'd forced a bottle of whiskey down her throat. The next thing she remembered was waking up alone in that hotel room with a splitting headache. The images from the wedding screen replayed in her mind, overlapping with her fragmented recollection. Could it be? But no—when she had woken up that morning, she was alone. There had been no one else, she was sure of it. Her silence spoke volumes. "Can't answer, can you?" Micah's voice dripped with disdain, dragging her back to the present. "I was there, yes, but—" she began, desperate to explain. "Spare me your excuses," he cut her off icily. He thrust the documents in his hand toward her. "Take a good look. No one's an idiot here." Mechanically, Deidre accepted them, her hands trembling. Her eyes skimmed over the pages—photographs, so many photographs. Many were the same ones that had been displayed on the wedding screen, but these… these included more. Her breath caught in her throat. Among the images, her sister Valerie appeared too, unmistakably linked to the events captured. "This isn't real," Deidre stammered. "I'll call Valerie—she'll explain. This is all a misunderstanding. That night—she—" Her frantic words were abruptly silenced as Micah seized her chin, forcing her to look at him. "It's over, Deidre," he said quietly. His gaze locked onto hers, unyielding. She saw her own desperation reflected in the lenses of his frameless glasses, his eyes devoid of warmth or mercy. His voice dropped to a chilling whisper. "If only you'd stayed obedient. But there are no 'if onlys.' You hid it well these past two years. I almost believed in you, fooled by that face of yours. But you're tainted. In the end, it was my mistake for thinking you could ever compare to her." Her mind stumbled over his words, catching on one fragment: "Her." Who was he talking about? Before she could grasp it, Micah let out a bitter laugh. With his free hand, he pulled a ring box from his pocket, opening it with a flick of his thumb. Chapter 3 Deidre recognized the wedding ring—it was the same unfamiliar one that had appeared earlier at the ceremony. Micah's voice broke through the heavy air, low and dripping with disdain. "You're not worthy of this ring." Her heart shuddered at his words, and pain flared across her jaw as he harshly released her. Without so much as a glance back, he stepped into the car, slamming the door shut with finality. His expression remained cold as he instructed the driver, "Drive." Desperate, Deidre chased after the car, her bare feet burning against the scorching pavement. The southern Salve City was in the grip of a relentless summer heat, but she barely noticed. The pain in her feet seemed distant, insignificant compared to the ache in her chest. She ran with abandon, her cumbersome wedding gown tangling around her legs, until she tripped and fell hard onto the unforgiving ground. Her knees and elbows scraped against the rough asphalt, bleeding slightly. She looked utterly disheveled, a far cry from the radiant bride she had been moments ago. The driver, catching sight of her pitiful state in the rearview mirror, hesitated. His foot eased off the gas, and he ventured cautiously, "Young Master Micah, Miss Deidre is—" "Did you not understand what I said earlier?" Micah's tone was sharp, cutting. "Yes, sir!" The driver stiffened, not daring to say another word. He pressed harder on the accelerator, and the car sped away. For a fleeting moment, Deidre thought she saw the car slow down. A glimmer of hope ignited in her eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it came. The car roared forward, disappearing into the distance, leaving her behind. She sat where she had fallen, her meticulously applied bridal makeup now smeared and ruined. The oppressive summer sun bore down on her, but she didn't care. Perhaps if her body suffered enough, her heart might hurt a little less. The sound of approaching heels broke through her haze. A shadow loomed over her, and Deidre slowly looked up to see Casey Landon standing before her, her elegant face frosty with disdain. Casey crouched down, bringing their gazes level. Her lips curled into a cold smile as she produced her phone, unlocking it and flipping through her photo album. She held it out for Deidre to see. "Take a good look. This is my brother's first love." Deidre's face drained of color the moment her eyes landed on the photo. The girl in the picture was young, no older than eighteen or nineteen. Her delicate features radiated joy, her hand raised in a playful gesture that highlighted the ring on her slender finger—a ring identical to the one Micah had just dismissed as unworthy of Deidre. Her breath caught. The resemblance was uncanny. The girl's eyes, especially, bore a startling similarity to her own. "This photo," Casey said coolly, "is why my brother took an interest in you." Deidre's mind reeled. 'You're not worthy of this ring.' Micah's words came rushing back, sharper than ever. "So, I'm… her—" Deidre began, her voice trembling. "Her replacement," Casey finished mercilessly. Her tone was detached, but each syllable landed like a dagger to Deidre's heart. "No… that can't be," Deidre murmured, her voice barely audible. Yet her body betrayed her denial, trembling uncontrollably. Though the summer heat was oppressive, she felt as if she had been plunged into an icy abyss. She was a joke. Right from the start, she had been nothing more than a substitute. Casey watched Deidre descent into despair with evident satisfaction, though her anger hadn't quite abated. She raised her hand and struck Deidre across the face. The slap echoed sharply. Deidre's head snapped to the side, her cheek instantly stinging with heat. A vivid red mark bloomed across her pale skin, the outline of fingers clear and unrelenting. "Today, you humiliated my brother in front of everyone," Casey said coldly. "You turned this wedding into the laughingstock of the entire Salve City's elite. You should be thankful my parents left in disgust early on. If they were still here, you wouldn't have gotten off with just a slap." Deidre bit her lip, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth. Slowly, she turned her face back to Casey, her eyes red-rimmed but resolute. Tears welled up but refused to fall. "I didn't do anything to betray him," she said through clenched teeth. "Spare me the pitiful act," Casey sneered. "Who do you think you're fooling?" Her disgust was unmistakable, simmering just beneath the surface. She straightened, slipping her phone back into her pocket. With a final disdainful glance, she added, "You're just a shameless woman clinging to lies and excuses. Disgusting." Without another word, Casey turned on her heel and walked away. Chapter 4 The reporters had trailed after Micah's car for a good while, hoping to intercept him, but when it became clear that their efforts were futile, they shifted their attention. Like a tidal wave, they surged toward Deidre instead. Vincent Winsley, who had also rushed out, caught sight of Deidre slumped on the ground, her hair disheveled, her expression blank. A surge of fury erupted within him. "You've disgraced me completely!" he spat, his teeth clenched in rage. Without waiting for a response, he stormed over and yanked her up forcefully. Deidre stumbled as he dragged her toward the parking lot, his movements sharp and brimming with frustration. Like a discarded, soulless rag doll, Deidre let herself be shoved into the car. Her mind was elsewhere, caught in an unending loop of Micah's cold words and Casey's venomous taunts. A replacement. The phrase clung to her, refusing to loosen its grip. Deidre's lips curled into a silent, bitter smile. Of course. It all made sense now. No wonder Micah had believed those photos, no wonder he had so readily embraced such absurd accusations. Trust? There had never been any between them. How could there be trust when all along, he had seen her as someone else? To him, she was merely a shadow, an echo of his lost love. A stand-in needed no trust—only convenience. When she no longer suited his mood, he could cast her aside without hesitation, without remorse. After all, she was just a replacement. Nothing more. For two whole years, she had been ensnared in the illusion of Micah's tenderness, his feigned affection. Even until this very day, she had dared to dream of a future together, of growing old by his side. But now, the illusion was shattered. The truth lay bare, unrelenting in its cruelty. She was nothing but a substitute. And if she had paid closer attention, she might have seen it all along. The signs were there. The way Micah would often stare at her, lost in thought—as if seeing through her, seeing someone else entirely. The pain clawed at her chest, raw and relentless. Why? Why did Micah have to do this to her? Just because she happened to resemble his first love? Did that alone condemn her to this undeserved heartbreak, this torment? "You still have the audacity to cry after committing such shameless acts!" Her father's enraged scolding pierced her thoughts. Deidre didn't even have the strength to argue anymore. Exhaustion weighed down every fiber of her being. She closed her eyes, letting the tears fall silently. But behind her closed lids, she couldn't stop the image from resurfacing—Micah's cold, disdainful gaze, those eyes filled with nothing but contempt. Again and again, the memory replayed, refusing to fade. Her heart felt as though it were being torn apart, over and over, each tear exposing fresh wounds, each wound bleeding pain she couldn't contain. … The moment Deidre stepped into the house, pushed forward by Vincent, she stumbled through the doorway into the entryway. As soon as the door clicked shut, his palm came down hard across her face. It struck the same spot Casey had hit earlier—her left cheek—and the sharp sting of pain flared up once more, searing and numb all at once. Deidre's expression didn't even flicker. She had no tears left to shed; the journey home had wrung her dry. All that remained was the dull ache behind her eyes. She stood there like a wooden doll, her gaze hollow and detached, staring at Vincent without truly seeing him. "How dare you humiliate the Landon family like this? How dare you cheat on Micah!" he roared. There was no questioning, no attempt to understand—just an immediate verdict of guilt, a judgment passed without trial. This was her father, Vincent. He had always been like this. The rage that had been simmering within him on the way home boiled over entirely now, erupting with full force. He raised his hand again, his voice thunderous. "I'll beat you to death today. That way, the Landon family won't come after me for this disgrace!" Deidre didn't move. She didn't even flinch. She knew better than to try. It wouldn't make a difference. Another slap landed squarely on her cheek, hard and unrelenting. The pain was distant now, buried under layers of numbness. Her expression remained as lifeless as before. "Look at you! Always that dead, useless look!" Her passive indifference only fueled Vincent's anger further, like oil thrown onto an open flame. His veins bulged at his neck, his face twisted with fury. "Fine! I'll end your life right here!" He glanced around, his eyes landing on a shoehorn resting by the entryway. He grabbed it without hesitation and swung it at her. Blow after blow rained down on her, relentless and furious. The shoehorn struck her arms, leaving bright red welts on her pale skin, each mark stark and startling against its canvas. The door opened again, and Kiera Winsley, her stepmother, appeared. She took in the scene, her voice laced with feigned concern as she exclaimed, "What's going on here? Why are you hitting Deidre?" "Stay out of it!" Vincent snapped, his grip tightening on the shoehorn. "This disgraceful wretch deserves it. end her life would be doing us all a favor." "Now, now," Kiera replied, stepping between Vincent and Deidre, her tone calm yet firm. "She's still your daughter. You can't say things like that." Her words seemed protective, but her eyes betrayed her indifference. There wasn't the faintest glimmer of worry in them. Deidre's gaze drifted to the silhouette of Kiera standing in front of her, shielding her from further blows. For the first time in what felt like forever, her empty eyes focused again. Her voice, hoarse and strained, broke the silence. "Where's Valerie?" Kiera blinked, startled by the unexpected question. She hesitated for a moment before responding, "Your sister and brother took a different car. They'll be home soon." Deidre said nothing more. Without another word, she turned and walked toward the living room. "Look at her! Look at the way she acts!" Vincent fumed behind her, his rage still simmering. Kiera stepped closer to him, her voice soothing as she tried to calm him down. But even as she murmured words of comfort, her gaze followed Deidre, scrutinizing her retreating figure with a calculating glint in her eyes. Chapter 5 After a long string of coaxing and placating, Kiera finally managed to calm Vincent's seething anger to a simmer. She tugged at his arm, steering him towards their room to change out of the formal attire they'd worn for the wedding. As they reached the stairs, Kiera glanced back and saw Deidre sitting quietly on the living room sofa. Her gaze was fixed on the front door, unblinking, her expression unreadable but for the faint furrow in her brows. Kiera hesitated, then called out, "Deidre, go change into something else, won't you?" Deidre didn't move. It was as if her ears had turned deaf to the sound of her stepmother's voice. "That girl's just like her mother—a cursed woman through and through!" Vincent spat as he ascended the stairs. "What bad luck it's been to have a daughter like that!" Deidre's eyes flickered for a moment, a ripple disturbing their stillness. Her hands clenched tightly, nails digging into her palms. It wasn't long before Valerie and Johnny returned. The atmosphere in the house had barely settled when their chatter filled the space again. "What a disaster today turned out to be," Valerie muttered as she stepped inside, slipping off her shoes. She paid no attention to the figure rising slowly from the living room sofa. "I told you from the beginning—this match was doomed from the start. Why force it? Marrying into wealth, what a joke..." Johnny trailed behind her, nodding absentmindedly as she spoke. But before she could take another step, she found herself face-to-face with Deidre. Startled, Valerie took a step back, her eyes scanning the figure before her. Deidre stood there in her wedding dress—filthy, tattered, with her hair in disarray. The left side of her pale face was swollen. For a brief moment, Valerie froze, as though she'd seen a ghost. Then her expression twisted into irritation. "What are you doing, standing there looking like that? Trying to scare someone to death?" Deidre's voice was calm, so calm it was unnerving. "It was you, wasn't it? On your eighteenth birthday, you forced me to drink, sent me to that hotel. And the pictures on the wedding screen—those were your doing too." The tone carried no inflection, just a straightforward certainty. It wasn't a question. It was a fact laid bare. Valerie faltered, her bravado wavering under Deidre's steady gaze. "You… I…" Her voice stumbled, and her eyes darted away, the guilt she tried to suppress bubbling to the surface. Before she could stammer out a denial, Deidre's hand moved swiftly. The slap landed on Valerie's cheek. Johnny snapped to attention, rushing forward to push Deidre away. "Don't hit my sister!" Johnny shouted, his fourteen-year-old frame trembling with indignation. The shove was forceful, and Deidre stumbled back several steps before regaining her balance. Valerie, clutching her cheek, finally processed what had happened. Her shock quickly morphed into rage. "Even Dad has never hit me! How dare you?!" she shrieked, rushing toward Deidre with hands outstretched, aiming for her face. But Deidre caught her by the wrist, her grip unyielding. Another slap followed, sharp and deliberate. Her voice, low and icy, cut through the chaos. "You deserve it." "You… you hit me again?!" Valerie's voice cracked into a wail. But before she could retaliate, Deidre's hand moved for the third time, another slap echoing in the room. "Stop hitting Valerie, you useless freak!" Johnny yelled. He rushed over, intending to help his older sister. But when his eyes met Deidre's gaze, he froze. As a fourteen-year-old boy who had been pampered his whole life, he had never seen anyone with such a murderous look in their eyes. Terrified, he hesitated. "Stop it this instant!" Kiera's voice rang out as she descended the stairs, her heels clacking rapidly against the steps. Her sharp eyes took in the scene—her daughter red-faced and wailing, Deidre standing unmoved, cold as stone. "How dare you hit your sister? Have you lost your mind?" Vincent wasn't far behind, his fury reignited at the sight of his precious daughter's reddened cheeks. He stormed down the stairs, his voice shaking with anger. "Hitting your sister like this? I'll end you life myself!" Deidre watched them all—the righteous fury on her father's face, the manufactured concern in her stepmother's eyes, and the unbridled hatred radiating from Valerie. Her chest tightened, the ache so deep it numbed her. Valerie broke through the cacophony with a scream, her voice shrill with rage. "Yes! I did it! I made you drunk that night and sent you to that hotel! And those photos on the screen—I had those taken! You think you deserve to marry into wealth? You're nothing! A crow pretending to be a phoenix—know your place!" Chapter 6 Vincent had been spewing curses at Deidre just moments ago, but upon hearing Valerie's confession, his lips pressed into a rare, tight line. He said nothing. Deidre let out a derisive laugh, her gaze shifting from Valerie to settle on her father. "You heard her, didn't you? You know now who orchestrated today's wedding fiasco. Weren't you so eager to beat me to death earlier? Why aren't you laying a hand on Valerie now?" Vincent remained still, his brows furrowing deeper as he finally spoke. "She's your sister. Watch your tone." "And when she humiliated me in front of an entire banquet hall, did she ever stop to think that I was her sister?" Deidre's voice cracked as she shouted, her anger no longer contained. "She's your daughter. Am I not your daughter, too?" "You're the older one. You should let her have her way," Vincent said, as if his words were carved in stone. "Yes, that's always your answer. Whenever there's a conflict between me and Valerie, you tell me I'm the older one, so I have to give in to her," Deidre said quietly now, her tone steeped in irony. She stood a few steps away, staring at the four people before her, her eyes cold, filled with disdain. Her mother had passed away before she was old enough to form memories. Not long after, Vincent had remarried, bringing Kiera into their home. With her came Valerie and Johnny. In the suffocating silence that followed, Deidre let out a bitter laugh. "I'm just an outsider, aren't I? You're the real family here." Her words pierced through the thin veneer of harmony that had barely held their household together. It shattered like glass. "What kind of look is that? Don't forget, I'm your father!" Vincent barked, enraged by the unmasked contempt in Deidre's eyes. "Following the passing of your mother, you ate my food, wore the clothes I bought. Did you call yourself an outsider then? Don't think earning a scholarship every year makes you someone special. If you're so capable, get out of this house right now and see how far you get without my support! Starve for all I care—just don't come crawling back!" Kiera's eyes gleamed at his words, though her tone remained measured, even gentle. "Why say such harsh things? Deidre is only twenty, and she's still in university. You can't talk to a child like that." Turning to Deidre, she added with a hypocritical kindness, "Deidre, don't take your father's words to heart. Apologize and make peace." "Fine," Deidre replied curtly. Her compliance startled Kiera, who hesitated, unsure what to make of it. This girl had never shown her any respect before, and now, all of a sudden, she was so obedient? The thought didn't sit well. If Deidre were truly driven out of the house, Kiera would no longer have to keep up the facade of a benevolent stepmother. Yet, despite herself, she felt unsettled, as if she had just swallowed a fly. Vincent was equally taken aback by his daughter's uncharacteristic acquiescence. He paused, his expression softening slightly. Clearing his throat, he assumed a more commanding tone. "The matter with the photos at the wedding—Valerie is still young and made a mistake. You've already hit her. Let's put it behind us. If you've done nothing to wrong the Landon family, find a time to clear things up and reschedule the wedding." Running a construction materials company, Vincent's business had been thriving, especially with the Landon family connection. A marriage alliance with the Landons would secure even greater opportunities. Naturally, he hoped Deidre would still marry into that family. The thought of returning the Landon family's generous bride price gnawed at him. That money alone had already covered the cost of raising Deidre for twenty years, and then some. It could ever cover her living costs for another forty years. The idea of losing it was unbearable. "You were engaged to Micah a year ago," he continued, his voice laced with warning. "You've been a part of the Landon family ever since. If they decide they don't want you after this mess, don't think anyone else will have you." "Reschedule the wedding?" Deidre repeated, as though the suggestion was the most absurd thing she'd ever heard. She began to laugh—a deep, bitter laugh that only grew louder, carrying with it a sadness so profound it filled the room. This was her father. A man so blinded by favoritism, he had lost all sense of reason. "What are you laughing at?" Vincent snapped, his brows knitting together tightly. Chapter 7 "I'd rather never get married in this lifetime than marry Micah. Never!" Deidre stopped laughing, her face freezing over, her voice sharp: "I think you've misunderstood something. When I said 'fine,' I meant I'll leave this house, and you can all go ahead and live your happy little lives." Since middle school, Deidre had been a boarding student, and the bond between her and her father, Vincent, had always been tenuous. The estrangement between them was as thin as the paper separating two worlds. In a blended family, when there are children from previous marriages, someone always ends up hurt. Vincent's fatherly love had been doled out almost entirely to his other children, Valerie and Johnny, leaving only the scraps for her. It was like charity, barely a gesture. Now, standing on the edge of her limits, she had had enough. Absolutely enough. "Fine! Fine then!" Vincent, enraged, his face contorted, pointed toward the door and bellowed, "I'll cut ties with you today! Get out! Get out of this house—now!" "Don't worry, I'm leaving." The deepest sorrow wasn't in the confrontation itself but in the stillness that followed it. Deidre had imagined this moment countless times, but now that it was happening, she felt a strange tranquility—almost a sense of release. Like her presence in this house had always been superfluous, an eyesore. She should have left long ago. Calmly, Deidre turned and went upstairs to her room to pack her things. Kiera, thrilled on the inside, masked her joy with an expression of feigned concern and helplessness. She muttered, "Don't be so upset. Why argue with a twenty-year-old? I'll go check on her." When Valerie heard Deidre's words, the sting of the slap on her face lightened. A wicked smile spread across her face, and sweetly, she said, "Dad, you still have me. I'll be a good daughter from now on." Vincent had been angry with Valerie earlier, but seeing her with that slap mark on her face, now with her pitiful, submissive expression, all the anger drained away. His tone softened as he looked at her, a far cry from the venomous words he had thrown at Deidre. He spoke gently, as a father would to a daughter he cherished, his voice full of indulgence. "Yes, having you is enough, my dear." Johnny watched Deidre walk up the stairs, his face contorted with disdain and contempt. This burden had been long overdue to leave. Upstairs, Deidre entered her room, changed out of the wedding dress, and began packing her suitcase. She heard footsteps stop at the door. Turning, she saw Kiera leaning against the doorframe, a smile plastered on her face. It was clear to Deidre that Kiera's smile was full of unmasked triumph, as if her goal had been achieved. "You don't need to stand there. Don't worry, I won't take anything valuable." Kiera chuckled lightly. "What valuable things could you even have in this room? Compared to Valerie's, yours is barely furnished. Take whatever you want—it's all just the last little bit of charity our family has given you." Deidre eyed Kiera for a moment, then silently walked past her and slammed the door shut. Kiera raised an eyebrow, unfazed by the gesture. Her mood was too good to argue with the brat now. She turned, adopting a concerned expression, and went downstairs. … Inside the room, Deidre slid down to the floor, leaning against the door, her eyes closed, her face etched with sorrow. From this moment on, she would be alone. She was only twenty, but why did it feel as though she had already lived an entire life? She didn't want to stay in Salve City anymore. She needed to leave, to disappear far away. But now, she had no money. Where could she go? Would she ask Vincent for money? She had to keep living, to prove to everyone who had mocked her that one day, she would slap their faces with her achievements. But what other choice did she have? How could she escape this place, this city, if not through death? Her eyes still closed, Deidre's mind scrambled through every possible future, searching for some shred of hope. Then, suddenly, a thought flashed through her mind. She opened her eyes, her gaze trembling slightly. Perhaps she still had one chance left. She stood up, found her phone, and dialed her mentor's number. After a few beeps, the call was answered, and her mentor's voice, warm with a smile, came through the receiver. "Deidre?" "It's me, Professor." Deidre's voice was hoarse. "Congratulations on your wedding today. If I hadn't been abroad for an academic exchange this week, I would have definitely come to your wedding." Deidre's throat tightened, her nose burning. Her voice cracked as she responded, "Professor, I… I want to ask you something." "Go ahead." Deidre took a deep breath, summoning all the strength she had left before speaking, "Is it… possible for me to reclaim my study-abroad spot?" There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by her mentor's surprised voice. "Didn't you say you were planning to stay in Salve City after marriage? What's changed? Has your husband agreed to it?" The wedding had been canceled. She didn't have a husband. Deidre barely managed a smile, her lips twitching silently, before speaking as calmly as she could. "No… I just think the opportunity to study abroad with a full scholarship is too rare." "Yes, it is. There are only three spots in the whole school, and you were the top choice. You know, for your field—finance—the offers from top international universities are extremely precious. This means you could stay in a foreign country and work there after graduation." Deidre opened her mouth but couldn't find the words. What was there to say? She had given up a brilliant future for a man she had believed was her one true love, only to end up as a fool, tossed aside in a fleeting illusion. "Deidre?" Her mentor's voice cut through the silence, noticing the quiet on the other end. "Professor, is there still a chance?" "Well, that's hard to say. The spot you gave up has already been filled by someone else." Deidre bit her lip, and the sharp pain in her mouth made her bite down harder, blood filling her mouth. She gripped the phone tightly, her voice laced with desperation. "Really... no chance at all?" Chapter 8 It seemed that the professor had sensed the unease in Deidre's voice. After a moment, the warm, familiar tone of her mentor returned over the phone. "There could still be a chance. Let me make a call and try to secure it for you." Deidre had always been a top student. Even though she hadn't finished high school, she had been exempted from exams and directly enrolled in the prestigious university in Salve City, completing both her undergraduate and master's degrees in one continuous stretch. Her mentor, who had always kept a close eye on such promising talent, was not one to let someone like Deidre miss out on such an opportunity. "Thank you. I'll wait for your call," Deidre said, her fingers tightening around the phone, turning pale as she bit down hard on her lower lip. Her heart pounded, the anxiety spreading like fire. She waited for an answer. Each second dragged on painfully, like she was being fried alive in a pan. She gripped her phone, staring at the screen, willing it to bring some resolution. Finally, the screen lit up. It was a call from her mentor. With a nervous breath, Deidre answered. "Good news," came the professor's voice. "A spot's available, and it's yours. Deidre, cherish this opportunity. Remember, no matter what others do, your future is yours to hold in your hands. That's the safest bet." Tears welled up in Deidre's eyes, and she started to cry, her joy so overwhelming that it spilled out of her like a river. She bit her lip, trying to control her shaking voice, and spoke each word slowly and deliberately. "Thank you... Thank you, Professor." "Alright, we'll talk later. I've got a lecture to begin." The screen darkened as the call ended, and Deidre, eyes still brimming with tears, looked out the window. Through her blurred vision, she could make out the faint blue sky, the soft white clouds. The vast expanse of the heavens stretched out before her. There was a way after all. The road had not been completely closed off. … Time passed swiftly. Seven years slipped by unnoticed. In Zemenia City, a bustling commercial hub neighboring Salve City, the evening descended, and the lights flickered on in their dazzling array. In the heart of this prime real estate stood the prestigious Wilton Grand Hotel, a symbol of high society, where the city's elite gathered for their business soirées. Outside the hotel, a barrier of security personnel kept the press at bay, forcing the journalists to crane their necks, helplessly watching the spectacle from a distance. This particular business banquet, however, was by invitation only. Among the luxury cars parked outside, one stood out above the rest: a limited-edition car, the kind that only the ultra-wealthy could afford. Its gleaming body spun gracefully before coming to a halt right in front of the hotel, catching the attention of all those gathered. The door to the driver's side opened, and the man who emerged was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, the kind that made his figure appear long and sharp. He pushed up his rimless glasses, and his finely chiseled face caught the light, his lips curving into the faintest of smiles. His eyes shimmered behind the lenses, and the sight instantly drew gasps of admiration from the women in the crowd. "That's Micah Landon from the Landon Group in Salve City, isn't it?" "He's even more handsome and refined in person than in his photos!" Micah glanced around, his gaze cool and detached, masking a momentary flicker of impatience. A smile, barely perceptible, touched his lips as he adjusted the buttons of his suit jacket, walking swiftly around the car to open the door to the passenger side. A slender, pale hand emerged from the car, resting lightly on Micah's arm as a woman gracefully stepped out. Her custom-made gown, an extravagant piece from this season's collection, hugged her slender form. She smiled as she looked up, her face radiant with the kind of poise that made everyone around her hold their breath. The man was elegant, the woman, stunning. They were the perfect picture of grace and beauty, drawing all eyes. "Look! A limited-edition extended Luxury car! My goodness!" The crowd's attention quickly shifted from Micah and the woman beside him to the new arrival. Micah, too, turned his gaze in response to the sound. Soon, a tall, imposing figure emerged from the luxury car. As he looked closer, Micah recognized the man immediately—Connor Halls, the young heir to the Halls family from a country called Milwarke. But just as quickly, Micah's gaze turned to one of astonishment. Standing by the car, the distinguished and handsome man offered a gentlemanly smile, bending slightly as he extended his hand. From the extended luxury car, a graceful woman emerged. Her delicate arm raised, her soft hand resting in Connor's as she descended. Her gown, a hand-crafted European design, clung to her figure, accentuating every curve, while the blue fabric highlighted her fair skin. The simple pearl necklace around her neck caught the light, and Micah—being an expert in jewelry design—immediately recognized it: a rare, limited-edition piece by renowned European designer Laire, a treasure impossible to acquire. But all Micah could feel was shock, as the woman's appearance completely stole his attention. How could it be her? A ripple of whispers spread through the crowd as people wondered about the identity of this poised and beautiful woman. Micah's gaze finally fixed on her face, her flawless features, the delicate oval of her face framed by perfect makeup. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17042&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 373 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | beokn.com | VIDEO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17042&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474875890_969028977928184_1978340479440605510_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=KL43DOHZm-UQ7kNvgG-QwSF&_nc_oc=AdgGRpa9_ZNpALyBuq7zdKvyS8evlwfgWd3260PZJdL7udJn-6JaEO2PhP1DZo2AMFuYSn2e1IDcSFTB6xh78OwC&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A6va-VqisSOlRUj5Pmljf9c&oh=00_AYCP5vGINco_n7ociYct9u8oyeJ-xUfbbhgnrvtJs1z7Ug&oe=67C2E23E | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2025-02-24 19:42 | active | 2625 | 0 | 😍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/ | 373 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | www.qknymufd.com | VIDEO | As the last sliver of light disappeared, swallowed by the oppressive darkness, I struggled helplessly. A week passed before my father finally remembered my existence and decided it was time to end my punishment. "Let's hope this week served as a good lesson for you, Jennifer. If this happens again, you will no longer be allowed in this house." He would never know that I had already taken my last breath in that suffocating room. My body had begun to rot in the darkness. | https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=17977&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476346111_494234440073839_3105124058434164352_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=6v8Ng4zPPm4Q7kNvgEGRlMe&_nc_oc=AdgKgENv5xyXBGyxRzO-xI43M-5h7RdFZXVybm4MJy9EG0dJNbA94O94ZB22C0MC3Oo&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AV0ndESOZkndyoR41oA7dw9&oh=00_AYCTFkeGVhFVD72KWx0NMWtiqiClivAsroBKu2p-5F4vDg&oe=67C2EF91 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-02-24 19:42 | active | 2625 | 0 | 🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉 | "Can you share Nash’s contact info with me?" The girl who was well-known around campus lightly poked my arm. Near the classroom window, a figure came into view. It was 17-year-old Nash Xander. I suddenly snapped back to my senses, clutching my chest and gasping for breath. "What's the matter with you?" The person who poked me was my desk mate, Yvonne Quinn, who had just transferred here a week ago and was crowned as the most beautiful girl on campus. In my previous life, she had been just as carefree and self-assured, declaring, "Give me his contact info, and I'll have him in a week." Back then, I had dismissed it as mere boasting. But that very evening, I witnessed her seated on the table, sharing a kiss with Nash. The plaster statue that should have been on the table tumbled to the ground, breaking into pieces. I was reborn! I found myself transported back to a time when tragedies hadn’t unfolded yet. I clenched my hands, battling to suppress the quiver in my voice. "Sure, I'll send you on WhatsApp." In my previous life, I hadn't given her Nash’s contact info, and she had held a grudge against me for quite a while. After a straightforward operation on my phone, I set it aside. "Alright, if there’s nothing else, I should get back to my studies." Yvonne added Nash on WhatsApp while inquiring, "Studying again? Aren't you curious why I said I wanted to win him over? Aren't you secretly infatuated with him?" My heart constricted. At the age of seventeen, I had made two grave mistakes. First, I harbored a secret affection for Nash but lacked the courage to confess it. Second, I reported his relationship with Yvonne, which resulted in him being sent abroad. Thus, he held a deep-seated grudge against me, a hatred that endured for eight long years. He was even willing to destroy me, all to exact revenge for what had transpired back then. Recalling that humiliating night, a wave of nausea washed over me. "No, you've got it all wrong. I've never secretly crushed on him," I asserted, raising my head and locking eyes with Yvonne, my expression deadly serious. My earnest response caught Yvonne off guard, and she slyly curled her lips. "Well, now that you've said that, I can breathe easy. I wasn't sure how to tell you about me and Nash, afraid it might upset you." In my previous life, Yvonne had displayed the same audacious confidence. Yvonne was stunning, possessing a well-proportioned, tall frame, flawless fair skin, and striking facial features that radiated even without makeup. Among our rather ordinary-looking group of students, she was the most dazzling rose. Yvonne had earned the moniker of a "campus heartbreaker" – she had dated practically every good-looking guy in the school. Her personality matched her appearance, passionate and outgoing. While others anxiously studied for exams, she was drinking, partying, and skipping classes. She didn't fit the mold of a conventional "good girl." However, for those who didn’t dare to defy conventions, she exuded a deadly allure. Nash was one of those who couldn't resist her charm. I recalled the moments just before my death in my previous life. I gripped the cuff of Nash’s white shirt, telling him, "Nash, you shouldn't treat me like this, even if you despise me. Seeking revenge in this manner isn't right." As his cuff slipped from my grasp, my arm bore permanent scars from smoke burns and a curling iron. Nash peered down at me with a patronizing smirk. "So, what's your suggestion then? If it weren't for you, Yvonne wouldn't have married someone else, and she wouldn't have met her end in that underground clinic." "You played a part in her demise, and yet, you have the nerve to ask for my forgiveness?" "Wendy Carter, you're incredibly naive." Yes, in my previous life, I had confided in Mr. and Mrs. Xander about Nashi's relationship with Yvonne. It led to Nash being forced to go abroad, while Yvonne, entangled in a love affair, failed SAT. She graduated shortly after and became involved with a punk. She became conceived out of wedlock, and her boyfriend abandoned her, with her parents also neglecting her. In desperation, Yvonne sought a surgery at an underground clinic but didn't survive the procedure. Nash firmly believed that if I hadn't disclosed their relationship to his parents, he wouldn't have left the country, and Yvonne wouldn't have met her tragic end. I was the root cause of it all. I smiled warmly and offered my best wishes, saying, "That's wonderful! I wish you both a lifetime of happiness and love." Yvonne glanced at me with a hint of puzzlement but remained silent. As time passed, Nash and Yvonne carried on their secret romance. They were just like any other couple, skipping classes to catch movies, adorning their ears with flashy jewelry, sharing kisses on the Ferris wheel, and racing through the streets on motorcycles. Yvonne was introducing Nash to all the experiences he had missed in his previous life. Their carefree existence didn't quite fit the mold of typical students. Perhaps they had forgotten that they were still in school. I observed it all from a distance, choosing not to be silly enough to report them to Mr. and Mrs. Xander. I had a busy schedule preparing for SAT. In my previous life, under Nash’s influence, I had enrolled in the same high school as him and pursued an art major. I had even resolved to specialize in the same field as Nash, willingly becoming his shadow. However, things were different now. I had decided to switch from being an art student to a regular one. I was preparing to take SAT and carve out my own path. Chapter 0002 This path was undeniably challenging, but regardless of how tough it might get, I was determined to give it a shot. I had faith in myself! I overheard Yvonne boasting to someone, "Oh, come on, Nash is just a guy others hype up. In reality, he doesn't know anything; he's just a bit of an art geek. "On that note, if it weren't for the fact that he's participated in so many competitions, his reputation, and the fact that he's reasonably good-looking, who would be willing to be with him?" A fellow classmate chimed in, "Cut it out, Yvonne. If you're going to brag, at least be realistic. He's a top student. Do you really think he'd be interested in you? You're probably just a fun distraction for him because you have the reputation of being a campus hottie." Yvonne snorted, "You guys are just jealous. Who cares if he's a top student? I can win him over anytime. "To prove whether he's genuinely interested in me or not, that's simple. Just wait and see." The classmate added, "I heard he's about to participate in an international art competition. If you're as talented as you claim, why don't you try to stop him from going?" I sat right beside her, fully aware of how crucial this competition was for Nash and how much effort he had invested in it. As expected, even without my interference, the pivotal moments from my previous life were unfolding once again. In my previous life, I knew that Yvonne was dating Nash casually. I tried dropping hints to Nash a few times, but he always believed I was trying to stir trouble and ruin their relationship. So, after much hesitation, I chose to inform his parents. Due to their intervention, things escalated significantly. Nash and Yvonne were compelled to break up. Nash's mother kept a watchful eye on him during the competition, but due to his less-than-optimal condition, he missed out on the first-place prize. Not long after, his parents sent him overseas. He harbored a grudge against me for many years, a grudge so deep that he was willing to destroy me in that manner. As I regained my composure, Yvonne was already standing directly in front of me. She casually rested her arm on my shoulder and asked, "Wendy, you're not going to rat us out, are you?" I lowered my head, opened my book, and made a solemn promise, "Don't worry, I didn't catch a word of it." In my previous life, Nash himself imparted a lesson to me: to let go of playing the hero and to respect the destinies of others. The first time I encountered Nash after my rebirth was right at my doorstep. It marked our initial meeting since my reincarnation. Reflecting on his actions towards me in my prior life, my palms couldn't help but break out in a cold sweat. I suppressed my revulsion and glanced down. Empty cans were scattered on the ground, and he still held an unfinished beer can in his hand. When he noticed me, he swiftly rose from the ground, his eyes bloodshot, and he clutched my shoulder. "Wendy, aren't you in the same class as Yvonne? Could you do me a favor and get in touch with her? She wants to break up with me. "I can't bear to let her go. She doesn't like me drawing, and I can give up drawing. Please convey to her that I'll stop drawing. Can you do that for me? "I'm really out of options. I love her, and I can't bear to lose her. I'm willing to sacrifice anything for her." I silently gazed at the disheveled young man before me, reeking of wine. He had lost the radiance he once had. He appeared different from the Nash I remembered. His hands had always been well-proportioned and well-kept; he cherished them dearly. He once said he was grateful to the heavens for blessing him with hands capable of crafting captivating works of art. He took great pleasure in the process of turning landscapes and people into art with his adept touch. However, now his hands, once meticulously maintained, were smeared with dirt, and yet, he remained oblivious to it all. In his eyes, no one could hold a candle to Yvonne anymore. I couldn't help but shake my head. Indeed, the unattainable Nash that I used to admire could only exist in memories; even if the actual Nash himself were to appear now, it wouldn’t work. Chapter 0003 "Wendy, why aren't you speaking? Are you willing to help me or not?" Seeing Nash's hopeful expression, I pulled out my phone and dialed Yvonne's number. Willing? Of course, why wouldn't I be? How else would I get to witness this drama unfold? "Yvonne, Nash has passed out drunk at my doorstep, shouting your name. Can you come over for a moment?" Nash stared anxiously at the phone, barely taking a breath. Yvonne chuckled and asked me, "What does it have to do with me if he's passed out at your doorstep? You must have called the wrong person." Nash's face grew even paler by the moment. These two couldn't break up, so I immediately stepped in. "Yvonne, did you two have an argument? Couples don't break up after just one fight. Why not hear Nash out or let him apologize to you? Yvonne scoffed, "Apologize? There's no need for an apology. If you want me to stay with him, ask him if he's truly willing to do anything for me." I switched on the speakerphone, and as soon as Nash heard Yvonne say that, he immediately nodded in a panic. "Yes, Yvonne, I'm willing to do anything for you. I'm sorry, it's my fault for making you upset." Yvonne appeared satisfied, "Good then. In that case, don't go to the competition." After that, she abruptly hung up the phone. Nash stared at my phone in bewilderment. I observed Nash, curious to see how he would choose in this life without my intervention. Nash stood there, rigid and with his head bowed. I understood that matters of love and dreams could be quite complex. After a while, he lifted his head with a bitter smile and asked, "Wendy, does giving up the competition prove how important she is to me?" He posed the question to me, but I sensed he already knew the answer in his heart. I didn't have much to add, considering my previous life's experiences. I watched as his despondent figure slowly receded from view, step by step. Indeed, Nash didn't participate in the competition due to an injury on his hand. Something must have happened after leaving my place, as a substantial abrasion had appeared on the back of his hand. Even the slightest movement caused it to bleed. I couldn't help but admire the power of love, driving him to self-sacrifice to honor his promise to his girlfriend. Their reconciliation was nothing short of a miracle. They walked home hand in hand, enjoying sweet and happy moments every day. Nash no longer displayed the despair of that night; instead, his eyes radiated tenderness and affection for the girl at his side. As they strolled past the alley they used to take on their way home, Yvonne exhaled the smoke slowly into Nash's face. He lovingly caressed her hair, then leaned in to kiss her deeply. He placed his arm around her waist and walked into a nearby internet cafe. Once inside, a group of local young people greeted him, and he engaged in a lively conversation. I shook my head, turned away, and became a complete bystander. It wasn't until Nash's mother found us in our classroom that everything changed. Mrs. Xander was a well-known fashion designer, and she had always been kind and gentle. In my memory, she never had any conflicts with anyone, giving the impression of a very contented life. Mr. Xander’s company had also been quite successful, which was why in my previous life, when Nash took over the company, he had the power to place me in the bed of a business partner. Nash excelled in his academic subjects, and he had remarkable talent in art as well. He was what parents often referred to as the "golden child" who excelled in everything. His parents never pressured him to focus solely on academics; they fully supported his pursuit of interests and hobbies. Nash certainly lived up to their expectations, winning numerous awards over the years. Upon high school graduation, he received acceptance letters from prestigious foreign universities. This competition was his gateway to a prestigious art school. Nash could have enjoyed a splendid life, basking in the limelight and receiving applause and flowers from everyone. However, he willingly chose to forgo all that glory and opted to rot in the gutter with Yvonne. Chapter 0004 Mrs. Xander walked in followed by our homeroom teacher, her face stern and icy. "Who is Yvonne?" she demanded, her sharp gaze scanning the room. None of the students dared to make a sound. Yvonne, seated next to me, furrowed her brow and swiftly tapped a few times on her phone, then stood up calmly. "That would be me. How may I help you?" Mrs. Xander scrutinized Yvonne from head to toe with her slender brows furrowed. Yvonne's face gradually turned red, and she appeared somewhat flustered. "It's you, the one who's dating my son every day, leading him into mischief?" Yvonne instinctively denied it, but before she could say more, Mrs. Xander slapped her across the face. "Your tricks won't work with me. Do you think I don't know what you're up to? You're so young, yet so cunning!" Yvonne, with a red mark from Mrs. Xander's five fingers on her beautiful face, stared in disbelief at Mrs. Xander and shouted loudly, "You old witch, who gave you the right to hit me?" Mrs. Xander coldly chuckled, "I have every right, especially when you, at such a young age, deliberately seduced my son. He used to be such a well-behaved child, but now, because of you, he's drinking, getting into fights, and defying his parents. If you want to ruin yourself, go ahead, but why drag my son down with you?" Yvonne was a popular figure at school, and she couldn't tolerate being accused of seducing someone. "Well-behaved? Ha, old witch, Nash is a human being, an independent thinker. How dare you use 'well-behaved' to describe him as if he were a dog." Yvonne argued vehemently. Mrs. Xander was so furious that her chest heaved up and down. She grabbed Yvonne's hair and began pulling. "My son, my rules. It's my choice how I want to raise him. It's none of your business." Nash finally arrived, pushing Mrs. Xander aside and protecting Yvonne. Our homeroom teacher managed to restrain Mrs. Xander, who was now panting heavily. "Mom, what are you doing? It's my choice to be with Yvonne so hit me instead. "Withdrawing from the competition was my own decision; it has nothing to do with Yvonne." Mrs. Xander never expected her obedient and sensible son to openly defy her for a girl who clearly had ulterior motives. She trembled with anger, swayed a bit, and our homeroom teacher hurriedly supported her. "Mom..." Nash hadn't expected his mother to be so upset. Seeing Mrs. Xander's unsteady steps, he worriedly called out to her. "Don't call me 'Mom.' I don't have such a disobedient and unfilial son like you." Mrs. Xander raised her hand and slapped Nash. She pointed at me, standing among the crowd. "You want to date? Your dad and I never stopped you, but at least find a decent girl like Wendy. Wake up and see what kind of person she is. Are you trying to drive me and your dad to an early grave?" I stood there, feeling unexpectedly singled out. This hadn't happened in my previous life. Mrs. Xander had never come to the school, and even when she later found out about Nash and Yvonne's early romance, they had chosen to send Nash abroad discreetly, cutting off their contact. Something must have happened this time to make Mrs. Xander react so irrationally and embarrass both of them publicly. Since Mrs. Xander mentioned my name, everyone's eyes turned to me. Yvonne, seemingly realizing something, stared at me with sudden anger. "Wendy, it's you! You're the one who told on us!" "You promised me you wouldn't snitch on us. Why would you do this? What do you gain from it?" Nash, too, looked at me with a mixture of caution and annoyance. I shrugged. "This has nothing to do with me. I told you I wouldn't get involved in your affairs, and I've kept my word. If you want to argue, can you at least do it outside? It's affecting everyone's studying here. Also, Mrs. Xander, please clarify that I didn't inform on you." However, Yvonne was convinced that I was the informer. "Enough of this arguing. I'm the one who told Mrs. Xander. Calm down, and if you have any issues, discuss them in my office. Don't disrupt the other students here," our homeroom teacher said, rubbing her temples. We followed our homeroom teacher to her office. It was class time, so there was no one else inside. Mrs. Xander, still furious, was seated by our homeroom teacher. "If our homeroom teacher hadn't told me, how long were you planning to hide this from me? All the things you've done behind my back, how do you plan to explain them to me and your dad?" Mrs. Xander glared at Nash. Chapter 0005 "Alright, talk to your child calmly," our homeroom teacher said, pouring a cup of tea for Mrs. Xander and patting her hand. Our homeroom teacher and Mrs. Xander were old classmates and had a very close relationship. With her soothing words, Mrs. Xander managed to restrain her anger. Both Mrs. Xander and our homeroom teacher confirmed that the information didn't come from me, and I finally cleared my name. "Now that it's not my problem, I'll head back to the classroom. There are so many practice papers I haven't finished." The college entrance exam was approaching, and I had to make the most of my time. However, I had underestimated the gossip mills in our school. This incident became widely known. While teenage romances were not uncommon, and some even involved parents and the school, this one attracted unparalleled attention. I heard that Mrs. Xander gave them two choices that day. Either Nash would go abroad, or Yvonne would transfer to another school. Yvonne thought she could easily get into an art school with her looks and figure, which was why she dared to be so reckless in her relationship with Nash. She certainly wouldn't transfer schools for Nash; she hadn't fallen in love with him that deeply yet. Tears welled up in Yvonne's eyes as she hid behind Nash, feeling wronged. "Don't worry, Yvonne, I'll protect you." Nash probably felt responsible for Yvonne's humiliation by his mother. When Nash was taken home by Mrs. Xander, another intense argument erupted. To express his determination to be with Yvonne, Nash even smashed his beloved easel and went on a hunger strike in protest. I saw Nash a week later. It was the first sunny day in two months. I happened to catch a glimpse of him sitting by the window, painting. Since being with Yvonne, he had rarely touched a paintbrush. He would discard a painting even before it took shape. In the middle of the night, the piercing sound of an ambulance tore through the silence. My parents heard it and rushed next door to help. I saw Mr. Xander carrying Nash on his back, and Mrs. Xander was sobbing behind them. Nash's right hand hung in front of Mr. Xander, and blood was dripping down one drop at a time. "Quick, get him into the ambulance, Mr. Xander, I'll give you a hand." My dad rushed up, supporting the unconscious Nash on Mr. Xander's back, and they hurried towards the ambulance. Nash, pale as a ghost, lay on his father's shoulder, a victorious smile in his eyes. As he passed by me, he chuckled and said something. "In this lifetime, I'll live for Yvonne. Wendy, don't obstruct me, or you know what'll happen." In that moment, it felt like a bucket of icy water had been poured over me, and I stood frozen in place, feeling a chilling dread. Nash's tendons in his hand were severed, and while the discovery was made quickly and his life was not in danger, his hand was rendered useless. Mr. and Mrs. Xander had no choice but to agree to let the two of them be together. Nash could never pick up a paintbrush again, but he didn't mind it one bit. When someone asked, he would proudly display the long scar on his wrist, boasting, "This is proof of my love for Yvonne, this is my youth!" But only I knew that those hands of his could have painted unique works of art. He could have been in the halls filled with an artistic atmosphere, enjoying the admiring glances of everyone. After Mrs. Xander's visit to the school, Yvonne moved to the seat farthest away from me. The two of them were now openly together. I heard there were a few breakups in between, but each time, Nash went and coaxed her back. As for Yvonne, she simply assumed herself to be part of the Xander family. After witnessing Mrs. Xander's wealth and extravagance, and dissatisfied with her own modest circumstances, Yvonne often asked Nash for expensive gifts that students couldn't afford. However, Nash was determined to be with her. Disappointed, Mr. and Mrs. Xander cut off Nash's allowance. Nash had already moved out of his home, and he rented a house with Yvonne off-campus. Thanks to Nash participating in various competitions over the years, he had won numerous prizes and managed to save a substantial amount from his previous allowances. For a while, they were living quite comfortably. Chapter 0006 I paid no attention to all of this and dedicated all my time to my studies. Whenever I encountered something I didn't understand, I would seek guidance from my teachers. My parents even hired a private tutor for me. After school each day, I focused on strengthening my weaker subjects. Following the second mock exam, my grades improved significantly, and I secured a place in the top ten students in the entire grade. My homeroom teacher called me into her office, his face filled with pride but tinged with a hint of regret as he patted my shoulder. "Your friendship with Nash has always been excellent. It's a shame." Another teacher chimed in, "He's such a talented student! Yet, that Yvonne doesn't seem to study at all, and she's influencing good students." I quietly left the office, passing by the hallway where I spotted Nash and Yvonne kissing. Nash, seemingly accustomed to Yvonne's playful nature. He wasn't wearing his usual white shirt but had donned a T-shirt with bold patterns, much like Yvonne's. When Yvonne noticed me, she nudged Nash and playfully raised her chin toward me. "Hey, it's your little crush. No greeting? She's in the top ten now, you know." Nash glanced at me, his gaze strangely distant, as if we had never met before. His thin lips formed two words. "Not interested." Yvonne burst into laughter. Ever since Mr. and Mrs. Xander stopped caring about Nash, he had become unrestrained. Just a few days ago, he even got into a fight with a troublemaker from our school. Coincidentally, the troublemaker happened to be Yvonne's ex-boyfriend, and he couldn't resist provoking them when he saw them together. Yvonne couldn't stand it and egged Nash on to fight the guy. Nash didn't hesitate, delivering a single punch that broke the guy's nose. Mrs. Xander came to our school for the second time. The wealthy lady, accustomed to a life of luxury, was now humbly apologizing to the teachers and parents. Nash stood silently by her side, tightly holding Yvonne's hand without uttering a word. Mrs. Xander was seething with anger, rendering her speechless. Our homeroom teacher, unable to bear it any longer, stood up and scolded Nash. "Nash, look at yourself now. You used to be such an outstanding student, how did you become so unreasonable? While your family is well-off, your parents can't protect you forever. Even if you want to date, can't you find a sensible girl? You've known Wendy since childhood, why don't you choose her instead of someone like..." The rest of her words were unkind, and as she glanced at Yvonne, who was nonchalantly chewing gum next to Nash, she frowned and swallowed the remaining words. She couldn't help but add, "Nash, this shows a lack of responsibility towards yourself!" Nash lifted his head, sarcastically remarking, "How could Wendy ever compare to Yvonne?" Our homeroom teacher slammed her hand onto the desk, exclaiming, "Wendy is currently ranked third in the class and is among the top ten students in the grade. How can you claim that she can't be compared to Yvonne?" Nash, with a blank expression, retorted, "She's just a bookworm who only knows how to study. Boring." "Yeah, teacher!" Yvonne chimed in with a laugh, hooking her arm around Nash's. "If we don't go a little crazy in our youth, what's the point?" Nash frowned irritably. "And please, can you all stop comparing me to Wendy? We don't have anything to do with each other..." He stopped mid-sentence, noticing me entering with my homework. In fact, I had been there for a while and overheard their conversation. I entered just because it was time for the next class. Silently, I placed my homework on the teacher's desk and said, "Teacher, I'm going back to class." | LEARN_MORE | https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 | Happyday | https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/ | 1,643 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | www.qknymufd.com | VIDEO | https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=17985&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475651411_576737338678546_8884347335546157246_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=0e9TsN3EohQQ7kNvgH2dGQt&_nc_oc=Adg3D76tW8qf0g8bfrBfpi0PqYa78uZBhfajDO8DtQvPvOmjGrXDb_fHIcjwvk5skho&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AM-IiibpyT2bQy24R0aY0WE&oh=00_AYCAuPoYQBRlrdmB0wABtBTG3XGWH5IE3Mwusb4wLzWPLw&oe=67C2EDAA | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Happyday | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-02-24 19:43 | active | 2625 | 0 | 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 bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d 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 b*dmates, 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 b*d, 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 b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "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 m*rk 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 b*d 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 b**ch! 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 gr*aning 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 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=EC8FD1970BAC50A839E7432FD383CF77036DBD0AD68B555A | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474488835_1353075029019284_5677164933659860798_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Dkeohv3gRZsQ7kNvgHDesZh&_nc_oc=AdhZeUl8Mf0VPlIa0DubXGlk_63piWWn0OfkHGvBJLEmVCQ6oyzTqkXrO5g-OsAyWoOVHegpYmkZ43O9RcmEQxCf&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AZ7xhMnaVxEzdMtHvuiDLeL&oh=00_AYDzZQdfNVIT2Csci0zhRcnk5RP5wTXhwAnugR5RrcnZOg&oe=67C30A95 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Heat Novel A | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-02-24 19:43 | active | 2625 | 0 | 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 bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d 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 b*dmates, 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 b*d, 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 b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "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 m*rk 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 b*d 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 b**ch! 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 gr*aning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e | Fun Novel | https://www.facebook.com/100090881055588/ | 1,343 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=233925549638247&exdata=FC3EB673E6B15A845064F48FD340827CCD2369102130F191 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474697577_1709414099620804_4637845787169639694_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=7BQm7SxxvSsQ7kNvgHofMy1&_nc_oc=AdgFlp5IV0ev7ZHfuodz5acrxth85RsgOFDG_bmCDENIFeWGVlOYzsOQFnmBK02HQxczdUlrRtjNi0T1ObLWLS2e&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AxUCfqHCRhS8-4F7doSzs-U&oh=00_AYA-CqHLbMBL03TH6yALfn1PqGuHu-5JehPIu25nnYsz1w&oe=67C2EE6D | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Fun Novel | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-02-24 19:43 | active | 2625 | 0 | 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 bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d 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 b*dmates, 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 b*d, 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 b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "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 m*rk 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 b*d 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 b**ch! 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 gr*aning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e | Fun reading A | https://www.facebook.com/61569549552159/ | 23 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0204-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=1166169688155768&exdata=2B4C666170BD1F15E7E6C622F09480B256EB2263E53B97E1 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475686359_2136611336741931_1405887551006299080_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=aw44V5LRjuwQ7kNvgHky7SD&_nc_oc=AdjA4NsGFAAwFmU7Vs2fmG7f3svr9Ra86kAl6JJOtWTo9UISmSTTlvLJNt2rYQjK5vRCJGzjvEpMDADtYFNzvcOI&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ATFvmXYPHQw3fmdqgM-eJgG&oh=00_AYAOFCBfw_VNnChr0tp-h46jo3CvrbMxmz0AiapUoFKgIQ&oe=67C2D8E0 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Fun reading A | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔥NEW POPULAR READ🔥 | “You really broke up with your boyfriend on Valentine's Day, Why? I mean, was he seeing another woman?” “Technically, I was the other woman.” I tilted back the shot of tequila down my throat, the liquid causing a shiver through me like lightning. “What?!” Bella’s outburst drew the attention of a few onlookers at the bar, which is exactly what I didn't want. I sigh, hoping that anybody who overhears is too drunk to remember what I just said. I leaned my elbows on the bar and dropped my chin in my hands. Not even the throbbing dance music could distract my brain from thinking what an idiot I was. That Valentine's Day was great. A romantic dinner, followed by an excellent intimate time. I’d spent the whole of last night wrapped in Jackson’s arms. It was a night more precious to me than anything, especially since he was always so busy with work. It was nice. Perfect. Until he got in the shower and his phone rang. I sat up and stared at the caller ID, a bit confused by the name. ‘Boss Lady’. I figured I might as well pick up the phone for him, because I know how seriously Jackson took his job. He’d always have to cut dates short due to it, so whatever it is, it must be important. “Then I realized it was Jackson’s wife. He’s apparently in an ‘open marriage’” I told Bella, putting up air-quotations. “His wife even knew about me before I knew about her.” Of course, I’m just summarizing everything to Bella to spare my own dignity. The woman sounded so terribly lovesick when I answered the phone that day. Asking when he would be done with me so he could celebrate Valentine's Day ‘properly’. “She didn’t really seem all that phased when I answered the phone,” I add. “She even told me she was sorry he didn't tell me about her beforehand.” “What the heck!?” Bella remarks, and I feel a spark of validation run through me. If anyone has my back, it’s Bella. “At least she didn’t blow up at you or anything. He really never told you about her?” “Nope.” I say, popping the ‘p’. “He tried to get me to understand, apparently he never told me about his marriage because I’m too ‘serious’.” “Is he freaking serious? Oh my god.” Bella remarks, her voice high. I already feel tipsy, my body feeling warm and loose, so I don’t even mind her being loud about it. It feels vindicating to hear her stick up for me in such a vocal way. “And even after I chewed him out, he still wanted me to stay with him,” I mention, and Bella’s eyebrows shoot up. “Told me he still loved me, that we could work this out.” “Nonsense!” Bella spits. “Yeah. I threw his nonsense out of my apartment that night.” “Good freakin’ riddance. What a loser!” Bella huffs. “That’s awful, Aria, I know you really liked him.” Bella puts an arm on my shoulder, and I can’t help but wilt. I really liked Jackson. He was someone who I really could see myself marrying, after all of my previous situationships. I can’t help but lean into her touch, thankful I can rely on Bella at least. “Yeah. It's a nightmare...I was even thinking about asking him to move in, maybe get a dog and raise it together. I dunno.” “Ugh, screw that loser!” Bella spits, and I can’t help but smile at how fired up she is. “I can’t believe he lied about that!” “Yeah...” Even I could hear the wistfulness in my voice, and Bella easily picked up on where my negative thoughts were headed. “Oh no, you’re not going to wallow over a slimeball like Jackson.” Bella scoffs. “You are your own woman, Aria! You don’t need any guy to make you feel special.” “Bella...” I start, but she cuts me off. “No, I refuse to let you be sad about this. It takes you forever to get over a guy, even when they do crummy things,” She shakes her head in distaste. “You’re so pretty, I bet any guy in this bar would make out with you if you asked them!” “C’mon, Bella, don’t be silly.” I feel my face flush at the very thought of kissing some random stranger. Bella smells blood in the water though, I can see it on her face. “I mean... ugh, I hate to agree with that loser, but you can be a little...” Bella hesitates, and I slowly raise my eyebrow at her. “Serious?” “You said it, not me.” Bella takes a drink. I let out a huff. “I just... I take important things seriously! Is that a crime? That doesn't make me boring, it makes me...reliable?” I’m way too drunk to think of a good word to use. “I dunno. I just... don't like spontaneous stuff. Especially not stuff like kissing a random person.” “C'monn, Aria, live a little!” Bella smiles, pushing me a bit playfully. I lean with it, the drink making my body pliant. Despite her teasing, I can feel a smile on my face. “If you loosened up, I bet you could forget all about that loser Jackson.” “Okay, loosen up how?” I indulge her, putting up another hand to get another shot from the bartender. “I dunno, do exciting stuff! Skydiving! Mountain climbing!” “Seems like a lot of work,” I say sarcastically. “Okay okay, how about we start with what I suggested earlier?” Bella smirks, and I’m pinned by her gaze. “C'mon, I’m not kissing anyone at this bar.” I look around, and sure enough, I don't see anyone that's particularly my type. “Okay, then don’t kiss anyone here! How about...” Bella gets a wicked grin on her face. “You kiss the next person that walks in?” “Oh my god, no, no way.” I laugh at her, but I can tell from her gaze she’s serious. “C'mon! You gotta prove that loser wrong.” “What if the next guy that walks in looks like an orc?” I say. That third (fourth? fifth?) shot of tequila is making its way through me fast. I already feel like what she’s proposing isn't that much of a big deal. “That’s part of the thrill!” I throw Bella a judgmental glare which she just laughs off. “C’mon, it's just one kiss.” I know I’m drunk when I realize I’m actually considering this. What's one kiss in the grand scheme of things anyway? The worst that can happen is we get thrown out of the bar. I get my next shot and down it quickly. I’m going to need to be drunk to go through with this. I think distantly. It goes down like hot fire, and I slam the glass back onto the bar, mind-made. “Fine. But I can veto him if he’s not to my taste.” She pumps her fist in victory, and both of our eyes look over towards the door in anticipation. We watch for a bit, and I’m about to call it off when the door opens. I barely get a glimpse at the guy before I feel Bella push me off the barstool. “Go!” Bella urges. “Do it without thinking!” I hesitate for only a moment, but the drink makes me feel a little more confident. I walk over, head held high. The bar is so dimly lit, I can’t make out the guy's face. Just his cleanly pressed suit and long hair. Either way, the goal is not to think, right? So, without any hesitation, I walk right up to him, close my eyes, and capture his mouth in a kiss. I was intending to make it brief, just a peck, but he drew me in. His tongue feels electric against mine, and I am overcome with the desire to go even further, to put my hands into his long raven hair, and pull him in deeper. But while I am drunk, I’m not that drunk. I pull away before I am further tempted, my face flushed. I can’t believe I just did that! I scream internally. I open my eyes to see a really handsome guy looking back, with an expression of pure shock across his chiseled features. He seemed a little familiar, like I’d seen his face before. I’m shaken away from my admiration by another man, a blonde guy with a very short haircut. He steps between me and the long-haired guy, his face stormy. “What the heck are you doing?” He remarks, and I suddenly feel embarrassed. I feel a hand grab my arm, and I turn to see it belongs to the bar owner. This just went from bad to extremely bad! “I’m sorry sir, I didn’t catch up to her in time. You okay?” I look back at the handsome guy, and his eyes are looking me over, scrutinizing me. I notice that his suit seems much more expensive than I thought, and I can definitely see a high-end watch brand on his wrist. I feel awash with shame, suddenly realizing how badly I just messed up. Did I just... make out with some famous VIP?! Chapter 2 Did I just... make out with a famous VIP?! The handsome VIP looks at me with a questioning glare, and I quickly try to offer some kind of justification. “I-I’m so sorry!” I stutter out, taking several steps back. “I… I just…” I flounder for a moment. How the heck would I be able to explain myself? Nobody normally kisses random strangers because of a silly dare! I decide to just lie, hoping I don’t slur my words and come across as some kind of drunk sleaze. “I just thought you were someone else!” I squeak out. “It’s dim in here, I-I didn’t realize…” The VIP just raises a singular eyebrow, and the gesture alone takes my breath away. Now that I can see him clearer, it's plain to see just how unfairly handsome he is. His expression shifts to one of disdain. “Right,” he begins, and his voice demands attention from everyone around us. He looks to the bar owner, who still has my arm in his grasp. “Do you normally allow this kind of behavior in your establishment?” “No! Of course not Mr. Avarise.” The bar owner clearly wants to impress the guy. Mr. Avarise gives a faint nod to me, as if I’m nothing more than dirt on his shoe. “Then I suggest you get rid of the problem.” He says offhandedly. I feel like I should be offended for only a moment before the more rational side of my brain takes over. It was kind of an offensive move to kiss him without permission, I think, and my shame grows even further. “Certainly, certainly.” The bar owner begins to drag me off, and I stumble in his grasp. The VIP, Mr. Avarise, just gives a curt note and walks on, giving me one last piercing stare before he leaves to go towards the upstairs of the bar, followed by the blond man and his entire entourage. They’re probably going to the exclusive VIP area on the upper floor, I realize. Once they leave, the bar owner lets go of me, and I see Bella walk up to where I am. It’s right about now I noticed just how many people were looking at this entire scene. This just keeps getting worse and worse! I internally scream. “Okay, so, I can’t really kick you out over something like that, but…” The bar owner sighs, and holds up some strange-looking clips of paper. “Here are some free vouchers. If I give these to you, could I close your tab early and see you out?” “Of course!” Bella interrupts, grabbing the vouchers out of his hand. “We were just leaving anyway!” I feel myself nodding along. I am way too embarrassed by that entire affair to be sitting around the people who just saw me do that. Bella takes over closing the tab, and I cannot wait to get out of there. It's clear the other patrons were watching the entire scene, and all of my attention was focused on trying to leave. As soon as we walk out into the cool night air, Bella lets out a high, shrill laugh. “Woooow! I didn’t know you had that in you!” She hollers, and I just put my face into my hands. “That’s probably the boldest thing you’ve ever done, Aria! I’m so proud, they grow up so fast!!” Bella chimes in cheerily, looping her arm in mine as we start our drunk walk home. “I’m never doing something like that again,” I vow. “Seriously, it's just my luck he ended up being some big shot, huh!” “I know! What are the odds! It’s a shame he didn’t seem to appreciate your attention.” Bella shakes her head. “You could’ve probably gotten his number if he is less of a prude!” “Yeah, right. Anyone normal would do the same thing if a random person kissed them out of nowhere.” I assert. “I was the misbehaved one there, if anything.” “I dunno, that kiss did seem really hot, though.” Bella sighs wistfully, but I can tell she’s trying to be funny. “Perhaps in another life…. I can see it now! Aria, the rich CEO’s doting wife!” “Oh, stop.” I scoff, shoving her playfully. “If you’re done telling jokes, let’s focus on getting home. I’d rather not hear about whatever daydream fantasy you have in your head about my love life.” I wake up the next morning with a piercing headache and a lingering feeling of shame. A typical Monday morning, all things considered. I slowly go through my morning routine, rolling out of bed, getting dressed, and cursing myself for not drinking enough water the night before. It’s only when I brush my teeth in the mirror that I remember everything that happened last night, and I let out a weary grunt of suffering. I am the worst human alive, I think, shoving my head into my hands. I am never going to drink tequila with Bella on Sundays ever again!! As my headache dissipates (thank you, painkillers), I notice that another part of my body seems to be smarting as well. I peel back my shirt collar to reveal a strange-looking mark. It looks almost like a burn, my skin raised red in the shape of crescent around my collarbone. When did I get that? I wonder. Probably something I did last night and forgot about. I write it off, vowing to pick up some kind of ointment for it while I’m out, and continue my morning routine. I dress pretty casually for today, partially because I’m taking care of a large number of dogs for today and partially because I am way too hungover to wear something cute but uncomfortable. I slip on some shades and head out the door to begin my walking route, picking up the dogs I need to walk along the way. Being a dog walker isn't glamorous, it's true, but it's something fun to do to make money along with my other part-time jobs. Besides, my neighbors’ dogs are unfairly adorable, and they need someone to walk them while everyone else is away at work. I’ve always been a dog lover, so I don’t really mind the simplicity of the job. I walk along with the various dogs, feeling a bit better as my headache lessens with every step. Seeing as it's a nice day, I decided to swing by the park. All five of the dogs seemed excited to play in the wide space today, so I quickened my pace to keep up with them. That is, until all of the dogs in my care suddenly come to a dead stop. Each one of them is looking forward, ears high and on alert. I’m a bit confused by the behavior, I’ve been walking them for a while and they’ve never done anything like this. I try to determine what has them on alert, and that's when I notice an extremely large dog bounding toward us. The dog appears to be a husky, but it's huge, much larger than any husky I’ve seen. I could almost confuse it for a wolf, until it gets closer and begins to try and sniff at me. My other dogs seem scared of it, moving out of their way and whimpering, trying to be still. These dogs are never still, so I exercise caution when I put my hand out for the husky to sniff. It nuzzles my hand, and it doesn't look aggressive in any way. It doesn't really seem all too dangerous… I think. I decide to bury my hands in its soft fur, giving it a few long head scratches. The wolf, no, husky, seems happy to be given attention. “Who is your owner, little guy?” I say offhandedly, not really expecting a response. “Sorry, that would be me.” I’m startled by the shout of a deep, familiar male voice. I quickly remove my attention from the dog and spin around, coming face to face with that same handsome guy from last night running up to me. He isn’t dressed as sharply as he was last night, but he is still a sight to behold. Broad shoulders under a clean white button down, dark long pants which are somehow free of any dog hair. His long black hair is tied up, revealing graying sideburns. The sun reveals that the dim lighting in the bar didn't hide anything, he really was just as handsome as I remembered! “O-Oh, sorry, he’s, uh, pretty friendly, huh?” Heck! Just my luck! I inwardly panic, pulling myself away from his husky. I hope he doesn't recognize me! He narrows his gray eyes at me, and I’m once again captivated by that lingering stare. The hope of me remaining unrecognizable dies in my throat at his words. “Oh. Why is it you again?” Chapter 3 “Ah, right! Um…” I nervously laugh, a habit I’ve never been able to fully get rid of. This is the worst thing that could’ve possibly happened to me this morning! He barely looks at me, his attention firmly focused on his dog. “Lucas.” At just his words, the dog underneath my hand shifts, ears going straight up. He sits, ears at attention, but refuses to leave my side. Mr. Avarise seemed a bit frustrated, and I hurried to try and find some way to salvage this horrible social interaction. “I...-I am really sorry about last night,” I start, trying for a smile. “I was super drunk, and… well, you could probably tell that, I just mean-” “It’s fine.” He cuts me off, his tone cold. “R-Right.” I stutter. He seems unwilling to continue any kind of conversation, so I do what I normally do in any social situation where I’m in over my head; try to pet the nearest animal. Thankfully, the dog (apparently named Lucas) was still sitting right in front of me. I stick my hand out, eager to pet him again. Wait.” The VIP’s tone is so commanding it stops me in my tracks. I look back up at him, and he stares at me warily. “I don’t know what method you used to make Lucas run to you, but he is not an affectionate dog. He bites.” “He ran here on his own. And… he seemed fine when I pet him earlier,” I remark, and a look of surprise crosses over Mr. Avarise’s handsome features. To prove I’m not lying, I let my hands brush over Lucas’ head, and sure enough, the dog seemed right at home. Panting heavily, tail wagging, he seems extremely enthusiastic to have my hands in his gray fur. “How did you manage that?” He asks, and he genuinely sounds interested. “Lucas is… particularly picky with who he likes.” “Oh, well…” I flounder for a bit, unsure as to how I can explain. “Dogs have always liked me, ever since I was young. In fact, I’m the most professional dog walker in the area!” I try to put off a cheery attitude despite my low energy this morning. “If you need some help with him, let me know, I could-” “I don’t need to pay someone to do something so frivolous.” He states, and the words stop me in my tracks. Right, he still hates me for last night. I think. “Right, sorry.” I stop my fervent petting of Lucas, and level him with an apologetic smile. “I just realized, you don’t even really know me, and I’m here asking to take care of your dog…” “I’m Aria.” I hold my hand out, hoping that he doesn’t hate me enough to rebuke me. He stares at my hand for only a moment before taking it, his grip firm and unflinching. “Darren. Darren Avarise.” I feel a rush of relief, finally happy I’ve learned his name after so long. “Right! Um,” I took a look around, seeing how my other dogs seemed to cower away from Lucas. I feel a spark of worry hit me as I notice, and I deduce that getting them away from Lucas would probably be the wisest option, before they start getting all riled up. “I suppose I’ll let you get on with your day then!” I say, feeling a bit awkward and worried I’m taking up too much of his time. “Likewise.” He states neutrally. I take a step away from Lucas, but as I do, Lucas quickly lunges. His teeth grab onto my sweatpants, not roughly, just enough to try to get me to stay. I look down at Lucas in alarm before looking up at Darren. He seems just as surprised as me, eyes locked onto his dog. The two of them exchange glances, almost like they are having some kind of mental battle, and I can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of what’s happening to me. “Ah, guess he really likes my pants,” I say nervously, giving a little pat on his head, and encouraging Lucas to let go. With my goading, he reluctantly lets go of the black fabric. I let out a laugh, almost unintentionally. “What a sweetheart…” I say offhandedly. The dog really was cute, even if he was much bigger than almost any other dog I’ve ever seen. As much as I want to stay here petting Lucas all day, I get the feeling Darren wouldn’t approve. “Wait.” As I begin to start walking off, I’m stopped by Darren’s commanding voice. “I… It is…rare to find someone Lucas accepts.” He says every word begrudgingly, almost like he regrets even stopping me. “What is your contact information?” “O-Oh! Um, here!” I hold out my business card, thankful that I usually remember to bring them on my dog walks. I’m completely shocked that he’s actually giving me a chance! I let a genuine smile out as he goes to grab it, my fingers mere inches from his. “That should have my email and everything,” I say, and there’s a moment he stares me down, gray eyes cataloging my face. I can’t help but blush under the scrutiny, and he quickly takes the card away from me. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just a precaution.” He says quickly. “Still, I appreciate it.” He gives me one last glare before he looks back down at his dog. “Lucas, Come.” He states with his commanding tone, and the dog gives me one last look before it bounds back to its owner, seemingly full of energy. Darren quickly turns around without as much as a goodbye. “Um! Hope you and Lucas have a good day!” I let out, and Darren merely waved his hand above his head in lieu of a verbal goodbye. I can’t help thinking it rude before I write it off as him being busy. A rich guy like him probably has better things to do on a Monday than let me pet his dog all day! I can’t help but think. Come to think of it, so do I. I look down at all the dogs around me, who have perked up with energy now that Lucas has left. I quickly resume my walk, replaying the interaction in my head over and over. I can’t wait to tell Bella! After I finish my walk, return home, and take a shower, I’m still thinking over what happened. I can’t believe he actually wanted my help. Considering what a bad first impression I made, it wouldn't have been out of the ordinary if he just yelled in my face for even daring to touch him. The fact he was willing to give me a chance was a miracle. That is, if I call him. I can’t help but remind myself. I sit down at my computer, trying to put the interaction out of my thoughts for now so I can actually focus on working through my emails. Instantly, when I open up my email, one sticks out in particular. An email from that pet company I applied to ages ago! I quickly opened it up, and I swear I could feel my heart skip a beat. They actually want an interview with me! Chapter 4 I quickly began to try to get ready for the interview, mind racing a thousand miles a minute. I take the fastest shower of my life in order to wash off any lingering dog hairs. I’d applied to them almost three months ago, and received radio silence in response. It was a bit of a long shot of an application anyway, I hadn't thought I had high chances of getting in anyway. By now, I thought it was a lost opportunity, I never thought that they’d actually reply! I took care in selecting what outfit to wear. I never got to go to college, so big jobs like these were always such a long shot to get in. I could only ever get freelance and part-time jobs, which made employers think I wasn’t stable enough a lot of the time. If I was able to grab this job, it would be the exact stability I was looking for! Plus, with that stability, I could actually go ahead and adopt a dog, just like I've always wanted to. Along with the other benefits that come with stability, like an actual disposable income. I put on the best outfit I had, a red business suit with a long professional-length skirt, and hurried to the location detailed in the email. I’d run out of time trying to get ready, so I did my makeup on the subway, not even really caring about the stares I was receiving. My heart was leaping out of my throat, extremely nervous about being accepted into such a stable position. My hands twisted in my red skirt, and I couldn't help but continue to check my reflection on any surface to see if my makeup was perfect. Try to calm down, I think to myself. It’s just an advertising job for the dog-focused department. You know dogs! You’ve worked at dog shelters for years, and you’ve done excellent work with creative writing gigs. You got this! I repeated that self-affirmation over and over internally as I exited the train and headed over towards the company building. It was an imposing steel structure deep within the business area of the city. I swallowed my nerves and headed inside, head held high. As soon as I entered the modern-looking welcoming area, I felt dozens of pairs of eyes on me. It seemed like everyone around me was looking in my direction, and I could feel myself blush. Am I really that odd-looking? I think Maybe the red was a mistake? I head to the main reception area, trying to dispel my nerves. “Hi, I’m here for an interview?” I ask once I reach the main desk. The receptionists, a man and a woman, look at me in surprise for a solid moment. I dart them a confused smile, and the woman looks back at her computer, analyzing something behind the screen. The man joins her, and they both give a few suspicious looks towards me and back at the computer. “You’re human?” The man asks me. “Pardon?” I ask, but he doesn't repeat himself. I awkwardly laugh, figuring it's some weird joke. “Uh, I mean, what else would I be?” The two of them stare at me for a charged moment before they start to exchange words, too hushed for me to hear. I start to think I've got the wrong address, that is, until the woman steps out from behind the desk. “Come with me,” She says unenthusiastically, and I hesitantly follow her as she begins to walk through the complex. Everywhere we go, I seem to draw attention, eyes and heads turning to look exactly at me. I start to look at myself in the many reflective doors we pass by, but I don’t see anything outwardly strange about my appearance. Why is everyone looking at me? Am I just imagining it? I try to put them out of my mind as I’m led right up to the small interview room. The receptionist gestures for me to open it, and once I do, I see a well-dressed-looking man with a pair of large glasses on his face. The first thing he asks upon shaking my hand throws me once again. “Human?” His handshake is firm, and I try to match its intensity. I nervously laugh. They must really like this joke at this pet company, huh? I think. “Yes, of course,” I say like I’m in on the joke. The glasses on the man's face do nothing to hide the disdain. He seems almost… disappointed by my answer? “Uh, haha, right.” He says, taking a seat at his desk. I quickly sat on the opposite side, eager to really impress him. “I just want to say, I’m super thankful for this opportunity,” I say with a smile. “I’ve always been super passionate about dogs, ever since I was young!” “Mmhmm.” The interviewer isn't even looking at me, he’s on his computer, looking at something else. I’m a little insulted, but I try to carry on. “Right. Well, I think I’ve got a lot of experience for the position, I’ve done a lot of freelance writing, and with my extensive experience with your main clientele, I think-” “Look,” The man interrupted me, and I quickly shut up, mentally cursing my nerves. You talked too much!! “I’ll be honest with you, I don’t think your experience is going to be relevant here.” “P-Pardon?” “Your education is also lackluster. I don’t really think you have the requirements to join our company.” His words hit me like a slap to the face. I feel a twinge of rage mixed in with my overwhelming shock. “I don’t understand,” I start, trying to keep my composure. “Why call me in if I didn’t meet the requirements? You had that information already!” “Ah, my apologies then,” he says, and I can tell he isn’t slightly sorry. He still isn't even looking at me, just locked onto his computer screen. “Our system glitches sometimes, it was probably a mistake that your resume was accepted.” “My job application was submitted three months ago,” I say, feeling more heartbroken with every second I spend in this room. “Why accept a months’ old application if you aren't even interested?” “Look, we’re very sorry, but you just don't meet our requirements. One of my subordinates must have made some kind of mistake.” I can feel angry hot tears start to form in my eyes, but before I can say another word, the door to the room opens with a slam. “I called her in.” Darren’s at the door, Lucas right on his heels. Lucas quickly ran in and circled around the chair I was sitting in, clearly happy to see me. “Do you think that was my mistake?” “Oh! Um, of course not, Alp-” He cuts himself off, looking at me. “Sir Avarise.” Darren glares at him, and suddenly the pieces are starting to connect. I sit there shocked as Lucas starts to nudge at me with his wet nose. This is when I realized Darren must be his boss, and this interview was set up right after I talked to him this morning. Did he actually want to hire me? Even though he said he didn’t want to before? And more importantly…did that mean I accidentally kissed the CEO of a multimillion-dollar pet company last night?! I can’t help but inwardly scream. Chapter 5 “My apologies, Sir.” The interviewer grabs a few papers, looking eager to leave. “I didn’t know it was you who requested such an interview. I’d never question the Alpha’s decision.” Alpha? I almost ask, but I figure it’s some weird ‘employee-at-a-pet-company’ hierarchy gimmick. These people are strange! “See that you don’t,” Darren says, and with a single dismissive nod, the interviewer leaves quickly. The two of us stand in the room for a moment, and I can’t help but let my questions bubble to the surface. “So, you’re the boss around here?” “Indeed.” He answers cooly, and I feel my temper rise “So you did want to hire me,” I say, standing up from my seat. “Why? I thought you didn’t want someone ‘frivolous’.” I couldn’t help but throw up air quotes, a little annoyed by the fact he made me nervous for no reason. He could’ve just asked me to work for him at the park, honestly! Making me go through this whole embarrassing situation left me wrong-footed. “Lucas was very taken by you,” Darren says simply, and I feel my eyebrows rise in surprise. “He became… restless, upon our return home.” “Really? He liked me that much?” “It appears so.” He seems a little annoyed by the fact. “Name a price, any price, and I’ll hire you to be his full-time caretaker.” “Well…” I hesitated, feeling off-balance. A gig like that sounded extremely tempting, not to mention lucrative. But, if it ever fell through, I’d be right back where I started with no way to support myself long-term. I pause before speaking up again; “I only applied here so I could work in the advertising department. Did you even look at my resume?” “You wouldn't have to work in this position.” Darren asserted. “It would be more trouble than it's worth, not to mention more work. All I need is a full-time dog sitter.” “Well-” He senses my hesitation, and he leaps to interrupt me. “You could be making double what you would be if you worked here traditionally. Like I said, name your price, and I will accommodate.” “Look, Darren, it's awfully nice of you to offer,” I start, looking him over. His expression is intense, and I get the feeling he’s probably used to just getting his way with a snap of his fingers. He wants me specifically, for what reason I’m not sure, but it's clear I do have some leverage here. “Honestly, if caring for Lucas is the only reason you hired me, I don’t think I can accept your deal. Don’t get me wrong; I like dog sitting, and Lucas is a sweetheart, but…” I try for a weak smile. “Well, a job with more stability and advancement is something I’ve been really searching for. If that isn't in the cards then… you might as well not hire me at all.” I begin to take a step towards the door, but Lucas stops me in my tracks. He practically howls, the sound sharp in the small interview room. I take a step back in surprise, and Lucas looks at me with shining puppy-dog eyes. He seems really distressed, and he rushes to stand right in between me and the door. I look back up at Darren, who seems lost in thought. Darren POV ‘Let Mommy stay!’ Lucas said in our mind link, sounding on the brink of a temper tantrum. I can’t help but let my frustration show through our link. ‘How many times do I have to tell you, she’s human! Not your Mommy!’ I let out a sigh outwardly. I look back at this human, her face hopeful and innocent-looking. If I were to hire her as an employee, she’d be entering into the werewolf world. Humans are not usually hired at my company, with only a few exceptions to that rule, and there's a good reason for it. Her life would be in constant danger, as no humans could ever learn of our existence. Not to mention, if she ever found out that Lucas was my son, I’d be the one signing her death warrant. She would most likely find out about Lucas the longer she takes care of him, as the date of his first shift out of his wolf form draws near. They’d have to keep up the charade that he’s just a wolf until he was much too old for it. But, I do need her. I remind myself. No one at the company can even get near Lucas, let alone seek his approval. My Beta Liam, my assistants, no one could cater to his needs effectively. And I cannot keep dragging him into business meetings or on international flights, it just wasn’t feasible. Especially once he shifts out of his wolf form, it would just be too inconvenient. He’s never liked anyone but me taking care of him. But for some reason, he likes this human, Aria. Even now, Lucas seems in a happier mood just upon seeing her. Having her help would be immensely beneficial for me and my company, not to mention my son’s well-being. I let out a mental grunt, trying to weigh out my options. ‘I can hear you thinking from where I am, halfway across the office,’ I hear the words of my Beta, Liam, in my mind through our link. ‘The human is playing hardball?’ ‘It seems so.’ I send the memory of my current conversation with Aria through the link, along with my thoughts on the matter. ‘In my opinion, Alpha, the pros outweigh the cons’ Liam sends. ‘Having her take care of him saves you time and leaves you free for business trips. The only complication would be forcing Lucas to stay in his wolf form around her.’ ‘That will be harder to maintain as he grows up’ I remind him. ‘We can cross that bridge when we get to it.’ He says, and I realize I can’t help but agree with his points. ‘Besides, if she ever does find out, we’d just have to silence her, like we have with every other mortal who found out about us. It wouldn’t be difficult.’ ‘That won't happen.’ For some reason, the idea of murdering this human sends a wave of displeasure through me. I quickly suppress the feeling so it doesn't transfer through my mind link with Liam. ‘Beta, ensure the employees are made aware of our… newest human applicant.’ ‘Right away, Alpha.’ He sends one last link before the connection is muted. I force my mind to the present, my focus directly on the shorter human woman in front of me. “Fine. I accept your terms.” I state, and the relief is evident on her face. “But, you start as an intern. If you do a good enough job here, we can start you full-time. And you will take care of Lucas when the need arises.” “O-Of course!” I see Aria’s face light up in joy, “That’s excellent. I won’t let you down!” I can’t help but feel satisfied with her ambition and determination to rise to the challenge. However, I also feel a small bit of worry enter my heart. I make a silent promise. You better not uncover our secret, human. | LEARN_MORE | https://befant.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18672&u | Galaxy in the Story | https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/ | 2,414 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | befant.com | IMAGE | https://befant.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18672&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/t39.35426-6/480528441_538009622655694_751054028500479039_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=8HqKS9fscvIQ7kNvgHL20_A&_nc_oc=AdipD9LTGAK9-jYu__oyzp9HgO2LC0OZRZhpu2td5vlFgk9Cqv7n5ZrRoDUNdDikmbw&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AiveRrnszZXQgnq1ZM7nwD8&oh=00_AYAPS7sNDxscUnp9CzE3QhKjXH6Mb1CQscOiIkk72yVBlw&oe=67C2E02D | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Galaxy in the Story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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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 bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d 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 b*dmates, 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 b*d, 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 b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "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 m*rk 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 b*d 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 b**ch! 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 gr*aning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e | Fun Novel | https://www.facebook.com/100090881055588/ | 1,343 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | IMAGE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=233925549638247&exdata=FC3EB673E6B15A8454E9C8D35A1A9A5D5777753E47FF51EB | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475065181_1855252635216583_641043529868125546_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=XNtK4qkMthEQ7kNvgHl-4D-&_nc_oc=AdjGMj4sXjCPKhr46zIpXNHbOhhAYlbLCZTj5VyyncnNwdi0TY78KO8gUPSMowLr90THYidlUlx8amEqwWoI2MeG&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AHnDIHd1vO8SiV58v592ypa&oh=00_AYDkEtNZ0rGV6ePMC6SgrTQ5Fj_ecupum-gMBMzMI5eQHw&oe=67C2F1D2 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Fun Novel | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-02-24 19:43 | active | 2625 | 0 | 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 bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d 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 b*dmates, 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 b*d, 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 b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "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 m*rk 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 b*d 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 b**ch! 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 gr*aning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e | Fun reading A | https://www.facebook.com/61569549552159/ | 23 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0204-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=1166169688155768&exdata=2B4C666170BD1F155B18C881FC01D9FB99070CC757901648 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475840681_1171634107958502_8348624295885238973_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HMGe15O6RNcQ7kNvgH5HxRm&_nc_oc=Adjac6Q64elNrXD3MMobS8oiarwpZF18A3Q3Mnnbl90ooRkucM50Uhod-W_vS-jOG-PaEXAbZfOzlLmDJGEq9-_G&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AfUdkNrvo3JwlFG_CpGETkf&oh=00_AYDLYoJ43ZY_MTf342usLnN5ROmikqLPCNRrrapEQv4B7w&oe=67C2F7C5 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Fun reading A | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2025-02-24 19:43 | active | 2625 | 0 | 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 bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d 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 b*dmates, 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 b*d, 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 b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "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 m*rk 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 b*d 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 b**ch! 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 gr*aning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e | Fun Novel | https://www.facebook.com/100090881055588/ | 1,343 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=233925549638247&exdata=FC3EB673E6B15A84D2CD36D6292239B0D79BA6185DDF58EE | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474815307_576452898548637_5367519101674065474_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5jVqEIdpe3cQ7kNvgH3vpqm&_nc_oc=AdgNxoPfsSwxjAI773VzxAnvHuzvc5Q-nq09TX74heYmZQ6T6ZaSBPG2f1MnfILMDOK6GpbGlT-sSwvdZefKgacg&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AfUdkNrvo3JwlFG_CpGETkf&oh=00_AYBKsDDspc9rNDe-vPuNi18N1jSn-ULtjdlc0TOP72wGxA&oe=67C2DE80 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Fun Novel | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-02-24 19:42 | active | 2625 | 0 | 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 bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d 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 b*dmates, 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 b*d, 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 b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "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 m*rk 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 b*d 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 b**ch! 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 gr*aning 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/ | 18,002 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0130-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=673595984708315&exdata=E7C53BDECE0DE88BE83559DB6BAEC8E5181FDEC9BB4F2555 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475746802_1126726622477978_2015199837323366778_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=LPqWHSDFnAIQ7kNvgEHI4Fw&_nc_oc=Adj7E5c5kYjo5l8l23EC_EQcJ_1yVxneuEApf3HJFN7WnvKtJOPfH92VhsJyxYW2nVgtJuKacbRKBfdOap3RNk7P&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AxGCl-pqxDOVZm2zPfGgJVG&oh=00_AYCNVllOY5qRuKOx4GvGaJFoWbZQ_oV8CyZ8pu9qHTeyWg&oe=67C2E8B1 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Popular romance stories | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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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 bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d 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 b*dmates, 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 b*d, 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 b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "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 m*rk 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 b*d 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 b**ch! 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 gr*aning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-e | Fun reading A | https://www.facebook.com/61569549552159/ | 23 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | IMAGE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0204-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=1166169688155768&exdata=2B4C666170BD1F1515BACAB2B24DC7CFD091FB4F57037D06 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475699936_587631834157669_2849938594902547025_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ksB4NPwtuGUQ7kNvgH0IC01&_nc_oc=AdgIjAeojg0bdax03eS0bUu7Pp5lRxy73cLPZvxlUIou7B-VoTI_NQ0TBwbUnFQF3puu0THSeBc3-yGfjoJSTMnr&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ATFvmXYPHQw3fmdqgM-eJgG&oh=00_AYCOWPfYyvXnT3h74_hsb8V9NkINYZjUHeVsFGhg8TzDGg&oe=67C2FC7D | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Fun reading A | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔞Attention! Do not read in public!👉 | Jasper is attacking my pack. Again. When is he going to realize that he can’t defeat me? This time, he must have gotten some friends to help him, but they aren’t the scrappy fighters that my warriors and I are. Other than me, my pack is made up solely of rogues, the misfits that the other packs kicked out. Okay, yeah, some of them are dangerous and I have to keep them in line, but they’re deadly, and Jasper needs to learn that no amount of money is worth your life. When I claimed my father’s pack at eighteen, I learned just how hard he’d worked to ensure my financial stability when I took over the pack. I know a lot of the wars that he fought were to obtain better-packed lands, and easier and cheaper access to water, electricity, and other necessities. He did it all for me. And now, I am by far, the richest Alpha I’ve ever met. I'm richer than Henry and richer than Warren. You’d never know it to look at me and my pack members. We don’t dress like we’re rich, we don’t strut around like we’re high and mighty like the rich do, but my pack wants for nothing. More than anyone, the rogues understand protecting what’s theirs. It’s another reason that I took them all in. They’re fantastic fighters to have lasted in the wild on their own, which is the primary reason that I allow them into my pack. Not only that, but they also understand the value of protecting what they have. And what they have is this pack, a home, and me as their Alpha. I don’t know how Jasper gets away again, but I know that I practically ripped his leg off this time. I’d chase after him and take him down, but I have a birthday party to attend today. Connor and Kennedy Hill turned eighteen today. Connor will take over the pack from his father, Alpha Warren, who I despise with every bone in my body. I’ve refused to create an alliance with him because the person killed my father. I watched him do it. That memory is burned into my brain and is one of the worst moments of my life. My father was a great person. Alpha Harold told me that he was greedy and that he was responsible for most of the pack wars that occurred back then. But I know that he did it all for me. My father loved me. I definitely know that. My father loved me more than his own life, giving his life for mine. My mother wasn’t that way. She protected me, but once she realized that I was safe and she lost her status in the pack, she let herself wither away and die. In the end, she loved her status more than she loved me. ‘Alpha, what should we do with the bodies?’ Kier, my Beta asks. I look around, pleased that my warriors killed so many of Jasper’s pack or the pack members of those he recruited to attack me. “Pile them up and dump them outside Jasper’s pack lands,” I growl. Kier smiles. “With pleasure, Alpha.” “I have to go get ready for this awful party. Are you good?” I ask. He snorts. “That should be fun.” “An Alpha’s duties never end,” I say. “Do yourself a favor, Alpha. Find yourself a sweet little pussy to bury yourself in.” I grunt in response and head up to my room. While I don’t shy away from a person who wants me, I’ve never fucked anyone in Alpha Warren’s pack. It’s not because I care what he thinks about me. I don’t care about what Warren thinks of me. It’s her. That little witch of a person who has always seen way too much. I climb into the shower, letting my guts wash off of me as I think about her. Kennedy. I’ve watched her grow into a person who far outshines her mother. Luna Yara is beautiful, no one can deny it. But Kennedy? That girl is something to behold. I guess today she’s technically a person. I smile as I think about her. She hates it that I still call her 'pup'. I’ve long since stopped thinking of her as a pup. That ended the first time I woke up, having a wet dream about that beautiful person. Maybe because of that, I became even more antagonistic about calling her pup when I saw her. And her scent, her sweet citrus and mint scent has only gotten stronger and more mouthwatering as she’s gotten older. What hasn’t changed is her watchfulness and her insightfulness. The person sees everything, far more than she should. And for some reason, her focus seems to be almost entirely on me. I should despise it, I should be mad or irritated that she’s constantly watching me, noticing me in ways that others don’t. But from her, I almost crave it. I fall for that such a beautiful girl, a beautiful person, watches me. I’ve seen the others falling all over themselves to get to her. Kennedy, being Connor’s twin sister and the oldest of the Alpha females in Warren's pack, is much sought after by other Alphas. I know that even Henry, who has yet to find his mate, wants her. But I’ve seen her ignore their advances just to watch me. I’m not sure that she knows how often I see her watching me, but every time I’m in the room with her, I keep an eye on her, watching her watch me. And every time I see her, that golden glow around her, that beautiful light of sweet and delicate inner beauty glows brighter and brighter. Part of me hopes that she finds her mate today. The other part of me wants to take anyone who comes close to taking her from me. That part comes from Raif, my wolf. He’s been enamored with Kennedy since she was a pup. He’s snubbed every other female we’ve ever seen, and goddess forbid that I talk about taking a chosen mate. He snarls and throws such a tantrum in my head that I can’t rest, and it makes my head throb until I relent. Not that any person is dumb enough to accept me as her mate. I’m not stupid. I’m an Alpha and people want the prestige of being a Luna. But being mated to me wouldn’t be easy. I’m too dark and eventually, I drag anyone who gets too close to me into the darkness that surrounds me. It’s another reason that I hope that Kennedy finds her mate today. She deserves better than the darkness that someone like me could give her. I told her years ago that she should be afraid of me, but for some reason, that little pup never heeded my words. A part of me, deep down in my heart, is glad that she didn’t. I’m distracted as I get out of the shower, so I don’t smell his scent until he barks at me. “What’s going on, Q? You were in a battle today? Why didn’t you call me?” Henry says, glaring at me from across my room. I frown. “I’m going to have to tell my patrols to start letting me know when you enter the pack lands.” “They know I’m your brother and don’t change the subject. Your pack smells like danger and desperation. Why didn’t you call?” “Because I didn’t need you. We were fine. Jasper was after my money again. And let’s be honest, you take a lot more time to get ready for these parties than I do,” I say to my best friend and brother. Okay, he’s my only friend. He rolls his eyes at me and throws himself on the loveseat in my room. “I don’t take a long time.” I look at him, realizing that he’s taken a bit longer today than he usually does. “Did you buy all the new clothes for today? What’s the matter, Henry? Are you hoping that Kennedy is your mate?” I ask joking. I turn to go into my closet to get dressed but when he doesn’t answer me, I turn back. “Are you kidding me?” Something dark inside of me threatens to push forward. I like Henry, more than anyone in the world I like this person who is like a brother to me, but at the moment, thinking of him with Kennedy, I’m ready to rip him to shreds. “Would that be so bad, Q? She’s gorgeous, she’s smart, she’s about the sweetest person I’ve ever met… she’d make a good Luna,” he says, shrugging and looking away from me. I can tell that he’s seriously hoping that she’s his mate. Honestly, he’d be the perfect mate to her. He’s exactly the kind of person that she should end up with. But the thought of her ending up with anyone has Raif thrashing around in my head. ‘Knock it off,’ I tell my wolf. ‘I’ll take him down if he touches her.’ ‘No, you won’t. He’s my best friend. She’s nothing but a pretty pup,’ I say, but I know I don’t mean it. She’s one of the few people who can put a warm glow into my dark and angry heart. ‘Mmhmm, keep telling yourself that,’ Raif says. I notice that Henry is watching me, so I do what I always do when I don’t want others paying attention to me. I get snarky. It usually works, except her. “Who knows, maybe Connor is your mate, and you can become his Luna,” I say, chuckling as I go into the closet. “You let me down, Q. I don’t know I even bothered to come over here to get you.” “Yeah, why did you?” I ask. He looks at me. “I wasn’t sure you’d come otherwise.” Normally, he’d be right. But I can’t miss that little pup’s birthday. I even got her a present. I got one for Connor too, but his gift is money. He’s the incoming Alpha, so if he’s smart, he’ll put it toward the pack. But for Kennedy, I wanted something special. Raif insisted that I get her jewelry, preferably something with a wolf’s head that looks like him. So, I had a wolf’s head made in pewter and onyx, and I had diamonds put into his eyes since April is her birth month. I’m nervous to give it to her, but I’m pretty sure, knowing her like I do, that even if she doesn’t like it, she’ll say she does and that she’ll wear it anytime she expects to see me. I finish getting ready, wearing like someone I’ve never been, just hating to be this formal. “You sure you want to do that?” Henry asks as I roll up my sleeves. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?” I ask him. “Luna Yara and Alpha Kennedy are going to see those marks on you. They’ll know you were fighting today.” I stop and look at my arms. He’s right, they will notice and neither person will let it go. Dammit! I roll my sleeves back down, feeling even more grumpy now than I did before. “Are you ready?” “I was waiting on you, brother,” he says, smiling and slapping me on the back as he stands. I glare at him, then we head down to his car and begin to make our way to the party. Chapter 2: Birthday Kennedy I watch as my mother prepares the person on the sofa in front of her. Sometimes I get to be in the room, helping by giving her the tools that she needs to complete her surgeries, or stitching up our pack members after she's done. But since today is my eighteenth birthday, she told me I could assist. I told her that it was the only thing that I wanted for my birthday. “When you do a Cesarean section, you have to be careful where and how you cut. You don’t want to cut too deep and risk injuring the pup and you don’t want to cut too high on the mother’s stomach because you could cut the pup,” she says, pointing to the area where she wants me to cut. Thankfully, it’s Anna who is having a baby today. It’s her fourth pup with her mate, Bennett, their oopsie baby thirteen years after the birth of their third pup. It’s why my mother suggested that she have the C-section rather than try to deliver naturally. It’s also why I’m allowed to assist. I’ve grown up around Anna and all of the nurses and doctors in the hospital. I’ve spent every possible minute of my life in this hospital. I can’t live without the medical world, feel amazing the idea of becoming a doctor just like my mother. While the others in my family were sparring and training to become strong warriors, I was here, learning everything I possibly could about medicine, anatomy, and being a surgeon. Thankfully, when my mother told Anna that assisting in surgery was the only thing I wanted for my birthday, she offered to schedule her C-section today. I was a little surprised, but since I’ve stitched up her pups before, and I’ve worked so closely with Anna, she agreed. My mother had me practice cutting on a medical dummy that she and Beta Noelle use in the hospital teaching rooms. I sliced that poor mannequin nearly to pieces I’ve practiced so many times. I take a breath and look up at Anna. Her mate is holding her hand and murmuring to her. “Focus, Kennedy,” my mother says patiently. Anna’s eyes flash to me and she winks. “You’ve got this, Kennedy.” I nod and turn back to her stomach, putting the edge of the scalpel against her stomach where my mother is pointing, and, using the pressure that I’ve practiced so many times, I make the incision. “Very good, Kennedy. Just a little further. Perfect,” she says, and I pull the scalpel away, smiling hugely as I step back to let my mother do the rest. A few minutes later, she carefully pulled the baby from Anna’s uterus and laid her on Anna’s arms. “Congratulations, on your baby boy,” she says to them. I know that Bennett is thrilled to be having a boy. Their first three children were girls. I was ready to assist my mother with closing up Anna’s stomach when she turned to me. “Your father and brother are asking about you,” she says. I look up at the clock and realize that it’s mid-afternoon. I sigh. I really don’t care about the party. The only reason I’m even partially excited is because Alpha Quirin will be here. There are a lot of other Alphas that will be here too, including Alpha Henry, who I like. But the others are just hoping to have an Alpha female for a mate. My sisters would be better options for them. They are all excited about becoming Lunas of their own packs. Me? There’s only one person for me. He just happens to be an Alpha as well. I fell for Alpha Quirin when I was six years old. There was something about him at Alpha Henry’s eighteenth birthday party that drew me to him. I’d watched him all day and then followed him outside. I don’t know why I felt safe with him that day. But I have every other time I’ve been around him since then. I don’t see him often, not nearly as often as I’d like. But I’ve noticed that he’s not as curt or abrupt with me when I approach him as he is with other people. I got my wolf, Echo, on my tenth birthday. That day at my party, she had agreed that there was something about Alpha Quirin. Maybe because he’s an older Alpha and doesn’t play the stupid games that the others play, or maybe because he refuses to let the other Alphas tease me in any way, but I’ve always seen him as a protector. Others find his quiet, glowering nature offensive, but not me. Unlike Alpha Henry, who is easygoing and has lots of friends, you have to work to get on Alpha Quirin’s good side. I’ve only known a couple of people who have earned that privilege and remained there. I count myself as one of the few. Over the years, I’ve watched as daring people have approached him during these gatherings. I also watched while he assessed them and took some to the sofa with him. I’ve tried to determine what it was about those people that made him decide to be with them and not others. I haven’t figured it out yet and maybe he hasn’t either. I’ve never seen him take the same person to the sofa more than once at these parties. If they approach him again at another party, he turns them down. My mother says the people want him because he’s a challenge. My father says they want him for his wealth. I want him because I want to get past the hard, crusty exterior that he puts up in front of others. Over the years, I’ve had glimpses of the person underneath the armor, and I want him. I want that person, the person that very few, if any, ever get to experience. ‘Kennedy, are you coming? You still have to get ready, and Dad says we can’t start the party until the birthday twins arrive. Connor won’t join the party until you do, so hurry up!’ my sister Wendy says. She’s fifteen and thrilled at the idea of seeing all of the Alphas that will be here today. ‘I’m on my way,’ I say, knowing that I need to get ready. My twin brother, Connor, is officially old enough to take over as Alpha from my father. I know my father is excited to be able to pass the torch of the pack to my brother. I also know that Connor was disappointed when he didn’t smell his mate first thing this morning. She’s not in our pack, but that doesn’t mean that she’s not in another pack. Every eligible male and female Alpha will be at our birthday party today, which has my siblings in a tizzy of excitement. It’s an important day for Connor, which makes it an important day for me. My twin is my best friend, and I won’t ruin this party for him. “Congratulations,” I say to Anna and Bennett. “Thank you. I have a gift for you even though we won’t be able to join your party today. I’ll give it to your mother to give you.” “You didn’t have to do that,” I tell her. “Of course we did. You just helped to deliver our baby, didn’t you?” Bennett asks me. I smile. “Well, thank you. I know I’ll like it,” I say. I head back to the packhouse and spend the next couple of hours getting ready for my party. When I look in the mirror, I hardly recognize myself. I chose the dress specifically because I want Alpha Quirin to see me as a person, not as the pup that he always calls me. ‘Little Pup’. Ever since that first day that I spoke to him, he’s always called me Little Pup. I would despise the name if it didn’t make me feel somewhat special. No one else gets a pet name from Alpha Quirin. The floor-length gown is covered in sequins, adding brightness to the dress. The sleeves are straps that hang off the shoulder and there’s a small train in the back that adds a softness to the overall feel of the gown. ‘Kennedy, are you ready?’ I hear Connor’s voice in my head. ‘Yes, where are you?’ “Outside your door,’ he says, and I can hear the laughter in his voice. I open the door and see my very handsome brother standing there waiting for me. He’s wearing a suit that fits him perfectly, accenting his broad shoulders and narrow waist. He will have the people at the party drooling over him. They do anyway, but today, he looks every bit the Alpha heir that he is. “Why, Alpha Connor, how very nice of you to be my escort,” I say, smiling at my twin. His tie and cummerbund are a close match to the color of my dress. We’ll look very good walking into our party together. He snaps his feet together and gives me a formal bow before extending his arm to me. “How was the surgery? Mom said you were brilliant, as always,” he says. My brother has always been my biggest supporter with my mother a close second. “Oh, it was fantastic, Connor,” I say excitedly, making him chuckle. “Good. Now remember, no matter what happens today, you will always be my twin and my best friend. I hope that we both find our mates, but if not…” “Then we keep looking,” I say, knowing how important it is for him. “Then we keep looking. But, if we’re both lucky and you end up leaving for your new home soon, never forget that I’m here for you anytime you need me.” “Thanks, Connor.” “Now we’d better go before Wendy bursts something in her excitement.” I laugh as he begins leading me down the stairs. I turn, as I hear the gasps of the people in the room, watching as my brother and I make our way down the stairs. I look around the room, not seeing Alpha Quiring and feeling a stab of disappointment that he’s not here. He was the only one I was hoping to see. The room breaks out in “Happy Birthday!” as we get to the bottom step. From there, we’re separated by the massive number of people who want to say hello and wish us happy birthday. I’m about halfway through the room of people when Echo stands up in my head. ‘Echo?’ I ask just as I hear a nearly feral snarl behind me and the scent of sandalwood floods my nose. I turn and see that the partygoers have separated, leaving a space for me to see Alpha Quirin standing across the room from me, his nose in the air as he drinks in my scent. I gasp as he opens his eyes and focuses his intense gaze on me. “Mate,” his wolf, Raif, growls. The entire room has gone quiet and almost as one, all heads turn to stare at me. I swallow hard, excitement and desire flooding my system and overwhelming me. Thankfully, Echo has no problem managing these feelings. She’s thrilled. “Mate,” she purrs. Chapter 3: Warnings Quirin When Henry and I pulled up to the packhouse, I smelled her before I even opened the door. “Quirin, where are you going?” Henry asks as I quickly leap out of the car and make my way to the packhouse. I ignore him. I have to see her. It’s all I can do to keep Raif under control as he pulls me into the packhouse. Once inside, the place is packed and I can’t see her, can’t find her. Raif snarls angrily and the party guests part like the Red Sea. There, across the room from me, is Kennedy. My mate. Raif announces it before I can stop him. Part of me is thrilled. There’s always been something about Kennedy that has drawn me in, something that has made me feel protective and even possessive at times. And now, I know why, she’s my fated mate. The other part of me knows that the words that I spoke to her all those years ago were accurate. ‘People like me are no good for little pups like you.’ I hadn’t been lying. She deserves someone like Henry, or even someone like her brother. Instead, the Moon Goddess has decided to punish her with someone like me. I should reject her, I should set her free, but I know I can’t. I’m much too selfish for that. “Mate,” she says. I know it’s her wolf who replies to Raif, but watching her sweet mouth say the word that I’ve only dared to dream that she would say to me, makes the possessiveness that I’ve held on to tightly flare inside of me. It didn’t escape me that everyone, every single person in the room, turned to look at her when I called her my mate. I’m sure they all thought she’d reject me. And maybe she will. If she’s smart, she will. ‘I refuse to accept it,’ Raif says. ‘She’s ours. I want her. I want them both.’ Raif has wanted Echo from the moment he first saw her. Of course, back then she was much too young for me or him to do anything. I’d always felt the pull to this little pup, but once she had her wolf, the pull had become even stronger. I stare at her across the room, not moving as I watch her eyes go wide. I realize that her dress brings out the color of those eyes. ‘Stop making our mate think we don’t want her,’ Raif growls before literally pushing me forward. Rather than stopping and looking like a fool, I slowly walk up to Kennedy. Some might call it a prowl, the predator hunting his prey. But since the prey looks eager to be captured, I’m not sure it’s an accurate assessment. “Happy Birthday, Little Pup,” I say to her and instantly I get the response I expected. Her lips press together but before she can come back with some smart retort, I wrap my arm around her and pull her against me, pressing my lips to hers. When I finally pull back I look at her, my mate. “We’re leaving,” I growl. “What?” she asks, frowning while still looking dazed. I like that dazed look on her face. “Alpha Quirin, it’s Kennedy’s birthday. The party has just begun. Surely you don’t intend to take her away from her party already.” I don’t have to turn to know that it’s Alpha Connor who is speaking. The person looks exactly like his father and for that alone, I despise him. But he’s Kennedy’s twin and I know that she considers him her best friend. It’s the only reason I don’t take him down for trying to keep me from taking my mate. “There are too many unmated Alphas in this room for my liking,” I growl, never looking away from my mate. “No one is stupid enough to try and take your mate from you, Q. Everyone saw that the two of you are mates. Let her have her birthday party.” That comes from Henry. He’s come up behind me and is speaking softly. “Of course they won’t. I would take him down anyone who touches her,” I growl loudly, making sure every Alpha here knows that she’s mine. “Alpha Quirin.” This time it’s the sweet voice of Luna Yara. She, like Henry, is one of the few people in this world that I would never ignore. “We worked very hard to have a nice party for our twins. Would you please reconsider your need to take Kennedy from us so soon?” I realize that, through all of this, my mate hasn’t said a word. “What do you want, Kennedy?” I see the instant happiness that I used her name, rather than calling her Little Pup. “I want to be with you,” she says and it’s like she’s turned her beacon of light on me, pushing away all my darkness. Such is the power that this little wolf, barely an adult, has over me. “We should stay and celebrate you. But we’re leaving today,” I tell her. “Okay.” “Okay,” I say, finally pulling my eyes away from her. I turn to the room and see that everyone is staring at us. “Well, is this a party or what?” I growl. The music starts again and I move to stand behind my mate, glaring at any unmarked male who even looks this way. Others come up to wish my mate happy birthday, but they quickly move away. “Alpha Quirin, it is customary in this pack that the first dance on a birthday goes to the mother or father of the birthday boy or girl. I’m assuming, since you are well aware of this tradition, that you have no problem with me dancing with my daughter,” Alpha Warren says. His hand is already extended to Kennedy, and I see that Connor and Luna Yara are also about to step out onto the dance floor. They’re just waiting for me. Kennedy looks up at me as if it’s my decision. I guess everyone here knows that I have no problem fighting them if I don’t like what’s going on. “It’s tradition, right?” I ask her. “Right,” she says and turns to me, taking my hand. “Don’t disappear on me.” “I’m not going anywhere,” I say. It's meant as a threat but rather than the fear that it should cause in her, I get her mega-watt smile. That smile has always fascinated me. How can one person be so happy? I watch as her father leads her onto the dance floor and the two of them begin to move around the dance floor, easily and gracefully. I’m content to watch her gliding across the floor, but my best friend and brother have other plans. “Stop, Q.” “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say obstinately. “Of course you do. You’re not stupid. Stopping ruining this day for her.” “I’m not ruining anything for her. I asked what she wanted, and she said she wanted to be with me. I have no intention of letting any of these lecherous people get close to what’s mine.” “Do you count me as one of those lecherous people?” he growls, but I hear the hurt behind it. I turn and look at him. “I know you wanted her. But she’s mine. Maybe I don’t deserve her, but I can’t let her go. If you can respect that, then we’re good. If you can’t, then we have a problem.” He turns and looks at me. “That will very much depend on how you treat her, Quirin. If you mistreat her…” “Then what, Henry?” I ask. “Let’s not find out, okay? And for the record, I’m insulted that you would think that wouldn’t respect the mate bond. Anyone’s mate bond,” he says, walking out onto the dance floor and asking my mate to dance. I see Kennedy look over at me as if once again questioning if it’s okay for her to dance with someone else. Am I that overbearing? Probably. “What are you doing, Quirin?” “About what, Luna Farrah,” I say sighing. There are maybe five people in this world that I care about. Four of them have approached me today. Well, technically, I approached Kennedy, but the other three, Henry, Luna Yara, and now Luna Farrah, have approached me on Kennedy’s behalf. I’m wondering when Alpha Harold will approach me. “This is her day, Quirin,” she says. I’m not surprised that the massive aura that I’m pushing out to keep people away isn’t keeping Luna Farrah away. It never did. “And I’m letting her have it,” I quip. “Letting her. What an interesting way to phrase it. How kind of you to LET her have her birthday party,” she growls softly. I sigh. “You know I hate these things.” “And I know that if you like someone, that it doesn’t matter what YOU want, Quirin. And if you can’t like that girl the way that she deserves, then reject her. It will make her feel bad now, but she’ll thank you later.” “She’s mine,” I growl, low enough that no one else will overhear. “Then make sure you treat her like that means something, Quirin. She’s a sweet girl, smart and loving. If you intend to stay mated to her, then don’t you dare take that away from her.” She walks off just as Alpha Harold walks up to Kennedy. He looks over at me and it’s obvious that he’s daring me to question his intentions with my mate. I don’t. He has his own mate and I lived with them long enough to know that he loves Luna Farrah with all of his heart. What no one else seems to realize is that I like Kennedy with all of my heart. I just don’t show it the way that others do. Chapter 4: Birthday Party Kennedy Every time someone asks me to dance, I take the opportunity to look over at Quirin. First, I was surprised by his possessiveness of me and I’m afraid to do something that will make him think that I don’t want him. I do want him. I always have. But second, I’m afraid he’ll run. It’s not that he’s a fearful person, well at least not usually. But I’ve been watching my mate for years and I know that when it comes to emotions, he’s not very good at handling them. “Luna Kennedy, how do you feel about being mated to my adopted son,” Alpha Harold asks as we dance. “I’m very happy about it, Alpha,” I tell him truthfully. “Hmmm, not many people would say that. My son isn’t an easy person to get close to.” “I’ve never found it that difficult.” “No, I guess you haven’t. Have you ever been to his pack, Luna?” I like that he keeps calling me Luna. Until Quirin called me mate, I was an Alpha, but now, being a Luna means that I’ve found the person I like. I can’t wait until his mark is on my neck and mine is on his so I can show everyone that he is mine. “No, I haven’t, Alpha. You have though, right?” “Yes. I’ll warn you, Kennedy, Quirin’s pack is different. His pack is made up of previous rogues, scrappy individuals who are used to fighting for what they have and what they want. You’re a strong person, Kennedy. It will take a strong person to make her way in a pack like that.” “I’ll do my very best, Alpha,” I tell him. “I’m sure you will,” he says just before his eyes shift to look over my head. A moment later I feel heat at my back and smell his sandalwood scent. “Are you going to let me dance with my mate, father?” “I was just warming her up for you, Quirin. Luna Kennedy, I do hope to see you soon.” “Thank you, Alpha,” I say to him and then turn to my mate. He looks at me for a moment, his eyebrow going up in the arrogant way that he has. Personally, I’ve always found it extremely incredible. “I didn’t know you danced, Alpha Quirin,” I say as he takes me in his arms. “I’ve never had anyone I was interested in dancing with before, Little Pup,” he says. I ignore the ‘pup’ part and revel in the thought that he wants to dance with me. He begins to expertly move me around the floor. “Where did you learn to dance like this, Alpha?” I ask him. He looks at me. “Quirin, Kennedy. If we’re going to be mated, we should be more familiar, don’t you think?” I smile at him and even though he doesn’t smile, I watch his eyes soften. “Where did you learn to dance, Quirin?” “My mother, mostly. My father said that Alphas needed to know how to dance so we could play the mating game, searching for our mate, finding her, wooing her, all of that.” “Since you’ve searched for and found me, is this a game to you?” I ask him. “Or are you wooing me?” “I was never good at playing games, Little Pup. I am who I am. I don’t have time for frivolous things like playing games,” he says and there’s something in his tone, something that makes me think he’s trying to warn me off of him. It won’t work. “So, you’re wooing me then?” I ask. He looks down at me and the intense look in his eyes takes my breath away. “I’m going to make you mine today, Kennedy. There will be no going back, no second chances. After today, you will be mine forever. You will belong to me. You should think about that before we leave here today. Because once my mark is on you, I will never allow you to leave me.” “Well, once my mark is on you, I’ll never allow you to leave me either. So perhaps you should be the one thinking about things before we leave today,” I say indignantly, my tone expressing my aggravation with his words. I’m rewarded with one of his rare smiles. “I’ve done nothing BUT think about it since Raif called you our mate.” “You’re questioning if you want me as a mate?” I ask quietly. His face becomes more serious. “Do you remember what I said to you that day in the garden on Henry’s eighteenth birthday?” “You said people like you are no good for little pups like me. But I disagree.” I can see the surprise on his face. I’m not sure if it’s because I remembered or because I disagree with him. “And do you remember what you said to me after that?” he asks. “I said I’m not afraid of you,” I remember that day as if it were yesterday. I’ve relived it a thousand times in my mind and in my dreams. “And you never have been, have you, Little Pup?” “No.” “Why is that? Others are terrified of me. Most people won’t even come close enough to speak to me. But not you. Never you. You always made a point of coming over to talk to me, didn’t you?” “You don’t scare me. You never did,” I tell him honestly. I’m not sure what he would have said, but at that moment, my father began tapping a glass. He calls Connor and me to the front of the room, wishing us a happy birthday and announcing my brother’s Alpha ceremony in one week. “Alpha Quirin, I do hope that you and Kennedy will be here to see her twin take his place as Alpha of the pack,” my father says. I know of the animosity between my father and my mate. It’s been there all of my life, and I know why the animosity is there. The only difference is the perspective of the person telling the story. I see Quirin ready to decline, but I refuse to miss such a momentous occasion for my brother. “Of course, we’ll be here, Father,” I say before Quirin can decline. “Excellent,” he says, not giving Quirin a chance to overrule people now, your mother and I have gifts for the two of you.” He turns and my mother joins him, handing him a box before coming to me and handing me a box. “Oh Mother, you didn’t have to,” I say. “You’re my daughter. And now, it feels even more important since you’re going to be leaving and starting your own life,” she says, with tears in her eyes. I hug her, long enough that I hear awkward laughs from the others gathered around. I’m sure it’s about my brother’s watch. I’ve seen it already and I know it cost a fortune. It’s a rare, very expensive watch that my father felt my brother should have. “Thank you, father. Thank you, Mother,” he says, putting the watch on. “Your turn, Kennedy,” my father says. I smile, looking over at Quirin. I see something like regret on his face, but I’m not sure why he’d be regretful of whatever my parents got me. I open the box and it’s a gorgeous diamond necklace. “Oh, it’s so beautiful!” I say. “Let me put it on you,” my mother says. “I knew it would go perfectly with your dress,” she says. When it’s clasped, I turn and hug her. “Thank you!” Then I go to my father and hug him as well. “Thank you!” “Of course. Let’s have some cake!” he says, tucking me against his side as he announces cake to the room. “Listen, Kennedy. Before you leave, I wanted to tell you … “ my father begins. “Kennedy, let’s go have some cake and then we need to think about leaving,” Quirin says, coming up behind me. I can feel the tension between the two people, and I can also tell that my father doesn’t want to let me go. He doesn’t trust Quirin to take care of me. I pull away from my father. There is no choice for me. Quirin has always been the person I’ve wanted. He is my mate. I’m an Alpha wolf and I like a challenge just like any Alpha. I know that things between me and Quirin won’t always be easy, but I know that there is no one else for me. “Yes, Quirin, let’s go get some cake.” I take his hand and lead him away from my parents. It’s only about an hour later when Quirin tells me that I need to go pack my things. “Since we’re apparently coming back in a week, just bring what you need for now. I’ll make plans to get a truck and we can bring everything else back next week when we’re here.” “Okay,” I say, starting to get nervous. “I won’t take too long.” I find my mother and ask her to help me, before heading upstairs to pack up my life. I’m ready to move and leave this pack and my family behind me, ready to start my new life with Quirin, wherever that may lead. | LEARN_MORE | https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=18347&u | New world publications | https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/ | 3,808 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | befant.com | IMAGE | https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=18347&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/t39.35426-6/478061902_2441779735992640_7632192292684127871_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=T-5j6ke45T0Q7kNvgGIG4yb&_nc_oc=AdgNU17lfML3pBrmeetpAb7uYTxphuFM0o-ALT90ZoBj_OxM-c5TkBu6TPz2_lIMxVg&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AV5uwBO2woYCTdXwwYDKh-i&oh=00_AYAly7AovnTkbu1G8yOoR7_ueQSq0EtXtdlQZR9DbLO9xQ&oe=67C30292 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | New world publications | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete |
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