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Yes | 2025-03-03 12:18 | active | 2772 | 0 | Read next chapter | On her wedding day, her stepsister set her up, framing her with accusations of promiscuity, academic fraud, and attempted murder. She was personally brought to court by her fiancé and imprisoned for three years, enduring inhuman torment! ===== On the day Khloe Evans was put on trial by her fiance, it was raining heavily. "Khloe Evans, you are suspected of bribing competition judges, academic fraud, and attempted homicide. Do you plead guilty or not?" Inside the silent and solemn courtroom, the judge's gavel echoed, signaling the start of a tense moment. Khloe's bl**dshot eyes were filled with anger and desperation, staring at Eric Watson, her fiance. She couldn't help but sneer. They had spent four years from falling in love to getting married; she had always believed that he loved her deeply and that their married life would be blissful. But on their wedding day, he personally put her on trial because of her stepsister's words. The Watson family was one of the wealthiest and most influential families in the country. No one would dare to offend them for a nobody like her. Khloe said word by word, "I have nothing to say." All along, she thought Eric was the love of her life. But it turned out he had been having an a**air with her stepsister, Sloane Evans. What was more, he had stolen her academic achievements. And now, he falsely accused her of being a m*rderer. He was ruthless. What else could she say? The judge banged his gavel again and gave his verdict. "The court hereby sentences the defendant, Khloe Evans, to eight years in prison and a fine of three hundred thousand dollars." The trial concluded, and the prison guards escorted Khloe. As she walked out of the courtroom, Khloe turned and looked back at Eric, sitting in the plaintiff's seat, her eyes burning with deep hatred and fury. ...... Three years had passed. "Khloe Evans, someone has bailed you out. You're free to go." Upon hearing that, Khloe raised her head, her pale face filled with shock. After suffering from endless torture for three years, she had thought that she was bound to stay there for the full sentence. She didn't expect that she would be released one day. An hour after she was released from prison, Khloe was taken to a hospital. She entered a ward, and her heart clenched when she saw her mother through the ICU door, lying motionless in the hospital bed. With a pale face and various apparatus connected to her body, she looked lifeless. "Mom..." Khloe got all worked up, her voice trembling with emotion. She wanted to open the door and go in. "Stop it! This ward is specially secured. No one is allowed to enter without my permission." A female voice suddenly rang out behind her. Khloe turned around and was surprised to see the person who spoke. "Sloane? My mom severed ties with the Evans family long ago. Why are you still doing this to her?" As she spoke, she glared at Sloane with eyes full of hatred. Sloane looked at Khloe, a flicker of jealousy and disdain flashing across her eyes. Then, she sneered, "Khloe, looks like you are mistaken. I'm saving her. Without me, your mother would have died long ago. Perhaps, by the time you come out of prison, you will only see her tomb." Khloe took a deep breath to calm herself down. "Sloane, stop being so hypocritical. You are saving my mother? Only a fool will believe that. What are you really up to? You're using her to manipulate me, right?" "Khloe, you're as clever as ever. No wonder they called you the rising star of academia. But it's a pity that you are now a convict for attempted murder. And your fate is in my hands," Sloane taunted. "So, today, all you need to do is spend a night with Karl Russell. Then, I'll arrange for your release and your mother's treatment." "Karl Russell? That old man is already in his sixties. Are you out of your mind?" Khloe's eyes widened in disbelief. "So what? Should I care? It's you who are going to sleep with him, not me. As long as you spend one night with him, our family can secure the Russell family's arms deal. It's a very lucrative business. You should feel honored that you are selling out your body to make so much money for us. But if you refuse..." Sloane pointed to the ICU. "I'll have them remove your mom's life support, and she'll die right in front of you. I'll give you five seconds to decide. Five, four, three..." "Fine! I'll go," Khloe agreed in despair. This time, she could no longer suppress the tears she had been holding back. She was left with no choice. For the sake of her mother, she had to do it. After freshening up, Khloe was put into a car. Tonight, she was destined to sleep with a sixty-something disgusting man. And she was still a v**gin. Chapter 2 Henrik Watson That night, the car glided through the deserted streets, headlights cutting into the night's inky darkness. Bang! A g*nshot shattered the silence, deafening and ominously close. Glass sprayed across the seats as the car window exploded, fragments glittering in the dim streetlights. All hell broke loose. Terrified creams echoed in the street as the few remaining shops hurried to lower their shutters. The driver, white-faced and trembling, veered in a panic. The car skidded, tires screeching before slamming into the curb. He slumped forward, unconscious. Beside him, Khloe blinked, disoriented from the impact. Pressing a hand to her throbbing head, she tried to make sense of what had happened. Through the cracked window, she glimpsed flickering orange flames a short distance away. "Oh, no!" She'd stumbled straight into the deadly crossfires of a g*nfight. It was likely a turf war turned ugly by two warring gangs. Steadying herself, Khloe pushed open the door and crouched low, inching towards the roadside. But before she could move further, a figure emerged from the darkness. Tall and powerfully built, he was moving fast. Even though a mask obscured most of his features, she could still see his intense eyes and the proud outline of his nose. A dark stain spread across his side, seeping through his clothes--bl**d. He stumbled towards her, breathing heavily, and collapsed at her feet. Just then, another group of burly men burst from the shadows, each armed to the teeth. Their faces were etched with vicious determination, each bearing a t**too on the hand. "Perfect! He's down. Now, finish him off!" The leader, bald and snarling, held up his g*n and pointed it towards the fallen man. Then, his gaze fell on Khloe. She was dressed to the nines, as she was meant to be a gift for a man tonight. A tight red dress hugged her perfect figure, accentuating her curves and complimenting her porcelain skin. Her glossy hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a delicate, doll-like face with wide, innocent eyes. In a word, she looked like a vision from a dream--or a man's t**ptation made flesh. The bald man's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with le**erous intent. He had never seen such a beautiful woman before, and he wasn't about to let an opportunity like this slide. "While you're finishing him off, I'll help myself to this beauty." He lunged, shoving Khloe back against the shattered window, pressing his weight against her. "No, please!" she pleaded, her voice trembling as she tried to pull away. "Please don't hurt me." "Why would I hurt a beauty like you?" he taunted, his fingers gripping her shoulder tightly as he leaned closer, his hot breath on her skin. His men jeered behind him, urging him on, enjoying the show. But Khloe's hand moved, almost imperceptibly, reaching into her purse. In one swift, desperate motion, her fingers closed around a pen, and she drove it up into his neck with a fierce thrust. The bald man's eyes widened in shock as bl**d spurted from the wound, his grip loosening. Gone was the look of a damsel in distress; her eyes, which were so full of fear just a second earlier, now glinted with a cold light. What was once a delicate, angelic beauty had transformed into a bl**d-stained rose, dark and dangerous. "B**ch, you're asking for it!" The henchmen froze for a split second, then fury overcame them, and they charged at Khloe with murderous intent. Her voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. "Don't move, or I'll pull the pen out! He'll bleed out on the spot!" The men abruptly stopped in their tracks. No one dared to move a muscle. At this moment, the man who'd been lying motionless suddenly sprang to life, g*n in hand, and unleashed a hail of b*llets on the stunned th*gs. He moved with such agility that it was clear his injury had only been a ruse. Even the bald man Khloe held hostage collapsed in a bl**dy heap, a bullet having shattered his skull in an instant. Khloe spun her head just in time, avoiding the bl**d splatter. But her clothes and legs weren't so lucky; they were stained with bl**d, sticky and warm. "Ugh!" The sickly, metallic scent hit her, and her stomach churned. She couldn't stop herself from retching, knees buckling as she collapsed sideways. But before she hit the ground, an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her upright. The man's grip was firm, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Feisty little thing, weren't you so badass just a second ago? What happened?" Khloe recoiled, shoving him away, her face twisting in defiance. "Let go of me!" Before she could get another word out, black-clad men suddenly emerged from the shadows, their faces hard, eyes cold. Even the surrounding rooftops showed silhouettes of these men, controlling all sniper points. Each man moved with such deadly precision, and Khloe could tell at a glance that they were all experienced killers. They brandished machine guns and rocket launchers with practiced ease, as though these were everyday items. In a word, they looked like an elite strike force--battle-hardened, lethal. Unexpectedly, one by one, they all started dropping to their knees, as though bowing before a king. Thousands of them bowed in unison. "Awaiting your orders, Mr. Watson," the leader announced reverently. Khloe's breath hitched. "Are you Henrik Watson?" Chapter 3 The Kiss Henrik accepted a handkerchief from his trusted aide, Rhett Foster, wiping the bl**d from his hands with deliberate, almost regal precision. He then removed his mask slowly, revealing a face that could seize anyone's breath. His eyes were dark, magnetic pools, deep enough to pull anyone in. And above his perfectly-shaped lips was a prominent, sculpted nose. His chiseled features conveyed both power and beauty, almost too flawless to belong to any ordinary man. It was the kind of face that could eclipse even the brightest stars in the showbiz. But more than his appearance, it was his aura--commanding, indomitable--that sent shivers down spines. This was a man who held dominion over countless lives. Henrik smiled, a flash of danger glinting in his eyes. "So what if I am?" Khloe's eyes went as wide as saucers. Henrik Watson--that name carried the weight of legend. Henrik had once been a branch member of the Watson family before vanishing into obscurity for ten long years. When he resurfaced, he singlehandedly seized control of the nation's underworld, rendering him a king without rival. In fact, he was so powerful that even the president treaded carefully around him. Khloe's ex-fiance, Eric, was a member of the Watson family, which had ascended from obscurity to supremacy solely thanks to Henrik. By blood, Eric was Henrik's nephew. So, if her marriage to Eric pushed through, Henrik would be her husband's uncle. Khloe's stepsister, Sloane, had maneuvered her into offering herself to Karl Russell. Though Karl held sway in the city, he was nothing against Henrik's underworld might. It was like comparing a lion to a mouse. As the thought struck her, hope flickered within Khloe. If she could gain Henrik's support, she might escape her forced sacrifice, and her mother could be saved. Steadying her breath, she asked tentatively, "Since I just helped you, could I ask you a favor?" Henrik's gaze sharpened, eyes gleaming with intrigue. It was the first time a woman had faced him with such poise, especially after witnessing him kill so many people. Interest piqued, Henrik strode towards Khloe with an almost lazy confidence, each step measured and unhurried. His sculpted fingers pinched her chin, lifting it so she was looking right at him. He held her gaze as he studied her with a trace of amusement in his eyes. His voice, low and rich, sent a chill through the air. "Do you have any idea who you're talking to? Aren't you afraid I'll kill you?" A shiver raced through Khloe's heart. His presence was overwhelming, like a storm cloud closing in, suffocating in its intensity. He was dangerous--merely speaking to him was like playing with fire. But she had nowhere else to turn; Henrik was her only chance. "I have a Ph.D. in chemistry and medicine, along with patents--highly profitable ones. If you help me, I can make you money," she said, voice steady but with a glint of desperation. Henrik shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Money?" he murmured, his fingers brushing her cheek. "Do I look like I lack money?" The scent of bl**d clung faintly to his skin, chilling her even as he remained outwardly gentle. Khloe's guard went up instinctively, her body tensing beneath his touch. "What do you want?" she ventured cautiously. "If it's within my power, I'm willing to exchange anything." A spark flickered in Henrik's dark eyes, something enigmatic and unreadable. He let his gaze drift over her as if considering her offer. "Anything, you say?" All of a sudden, he let out a chilling laugh. "Then I want this." In one swift motion, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. And there, before all his men, he kissed her. Chapter 4 Decisive Action The kiss came unexpectedly. Khloe was caught off guard, unable to respond in time. Henrik's subordinates stood frozen, their eyes wide with disbelief. They had all worked for him for years, and never once had they seen him so close with a woman. Henrik had always been the type to keep his distance from women. In the past, women who approached him either ended up as fish food or were sent to toil in the mines at his orders. What kind of spell had this woman cast? How was it that she managed to make Henrik abandon all his usual rules, and all on their very first meeting? As the crowd remained stunned and puzzled, Khloe's thoughts swirled in chaos, making it impossible to think straight. Henrik's kiss was overwhelming, like a storm crashing down on her, leaving her breathless and dizzy. She found herself trapped in his arms, held so tightly it felt as though she were a flower caught in a violent storm. Yet she was anything but fragile. Once the shock wore off, a surge of anger rose within her. For years, she had endured humiliation, her fall from grace plunging her into the darkest depths. But giving up was never an option; she had always been plotting her revenge. It was only natural that she refused to yield. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss with equal ferocity. After all, what harm could a kiss do? And the man was both devastatingly handsome and of high standing. She would not suffer any losses. She skillfully fought back with her t**gue, refusing to let him dominate her entirely. Instead of pulling back, she met his intensity head-on, taking the lead. What began as a one-sided kiss quickly transformed into a fierce exchange, each of them vying for control, pushing and pulling in a heated battle for dominance. The kiss was fierce and all-consuming, each second more passionate than the last, until they were both gasping for air. When they finally pulled away, their lips were swollen and stained with bl**d, a testament to the intensity of the moment. Henrik let go of Khloe, his hand brushing against the corner of his mouth where her teeth had left their mark. His gaze was intense, locking onto her with a depth that seemed to pierce right through her. Khloe held his stare steadily, not flinching or showing even the slightest sign of discomfort. Her fearless attitude earned her the respect of those watching. It was clear now why Henrik was drawn to her. She was bold, with a courage that couldn't be ignored. She had the audacity to bite Henrik's lips, unafraid of the consequences. Henrik continued to gaze at Khloe, a growing satisfaction building within him. The sting on his lips reminded him sharply of what had just happened. The woman standing before him, with a face as stunning as an angel's, was no delicate flower. She was a thorny rose, and anyone foolish enough to underestimate her would undoubtedly pay the price. But that was exactly what made her so captivating--it was the danger beneath the beauty that drew him in. "Mr. Watson, is everything to your liking?" Khloe asked, breaking the stillness. "Yes, let's go," Henrik replied with a smile. "Now, let's take care of your little issue." ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &9& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65284322-fb_contact-e | Romance Novel | https://www.facebook.com/100083771162998/ | 48,200 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65284322-fb_contact-enp98_2-1210-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=DD7CCA935D14747FECBAB5EE85CF10A6DB13D09CC745891D | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474809137_1008386747798765_8253571279887275304_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=pOLQbxV1n98Q7kNvgFbg2Yz&_nc_oc=Adj5vKqp2YqnpE69QFirfh4MA5C0yKxO3fxTpcZQNcF48PlJkpNekJx28YzrFnNUfhuWsxl81SCt5Ll6Z_QFeFSz&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A2yaBNYKZKyedaWT-EMAh-O&oh=00_AYDC1LzMm-Vw95btE4x7XUMIASBcmeEKreq_NQQrXbEbWQ&oe=67CBB5D4 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Romance Novel | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2025-03-03 12:18 | active | 2772 | 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/ | 1,340 | 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=FC3EB673E6B15A8418AA2BAAA4BBCA10554AC20C4F04EFA3 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475208138_1416166172685618_7258164949646955251_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=6Lr1BFPaTfYQ7kNvgH9y0qp&_nc_oc=AdhBy2A5WhxO8DPBz_Q6V5MrkhnG6Tb3fQL-u-QHoM8n_xdizAyuOkcJBPkElRmxBBhVJLxPRTLccVBSVpmCJ4Li&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AEbpNqY8WY8IsUXX5MAY6Pv&oh=00_AYDGktUiGFOW9flx-vAeJqINgavChu3Je4Gu4n2z4JpAXg&oe=67CBD99B | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Fun Novel | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2025-03-03 12:18 | active | 2772 | 0 | 🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉 | "Where is she?" I hear the Beta scream. I groan and rise to my feet, grabbing the cleaning basket before heading over. The moment Beta Kyle sees me, he strides towards me and his hand slices against my cheek. I don't make a sound. Years of experience has taught me to keep my mouth shut at all times. "Alpha Trey is expecting company and you still have not cleaned the office." Beta Kyle spits at me. I nod my head and my hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If only I could find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make my day. But I didn't need another week locked up with no food. My stomach already hurt enough. "We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Don't you understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!" I don't answer, It's a trap, a ploy to provoke me into saying something that would justify punishment. I keep my eyes lowered, avoiding his gaze. "He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!" We had never been attacked and we had never attacked anyone, so why did we need another pack to help us? He grabs my shoulders, his nails digging into my skin as he turns me around and kicks me into the office. "Useless Wolf." He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean against it, observing the already clean office. It looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing my eyes, I slide down to the floor. I hated this house. I thought that when I turned eighteen, I could finally escape, but four years later, here I still am, a slave in my own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for my brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While my ex mate, Beta Kyle waltzes around reminding me of how worthless I am. Someone clears their throat and I freeze, I thought I was alone. Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair, just around the corner. A foot propped up on his knee as he nurses a glass of alcohol. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don't quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. "Is this the way you greet all Alphas?" His deep voice rumbles through the room, there was an edge of amusement to his tone. "I'm sorry." I whisper, getting to my feet. "I...I thought I was alone." I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. "Come forward." He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey wil kill me. I step around the corner, doing as I'm told, allowing him to see me properly. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. "You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?" I nod, though I couldn't tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. "I would prefer it if you spoke to me." He growls, "I'm not in the mood to play games." "Yes." I whisper. I couldn't help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? "Why do you smell strange? And how is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me." "I..." I hated the question. "You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?" His deep voice sends a shiver through me. Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them, there was no way I was making eye contact."My Wolf abilities were bound," I mutter. Twice, I wanted to add. Twice my abilities were bound. But he probably wasn't interested in that part. He leans forward, I could feel him staring at me, "Why would someone do that?" If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. "It was a punishment." I whisper. It wasn't far from the entire truth. There's a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn't tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me "Neah, what are you doing in my office?" He turns to the crimson eyed man. "I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it's him. My brother spins around, hand poised to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He is taller than my brother, more muscly too. "Neah," My name rolls off of his tongue, "was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested." What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, withdrawing his hands reluctantly. "Neah is your sister, correct?" Alpha Dane questions my brother. "She is." Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. "Why do you treat her like trash?" No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't move but I knew I'd better leave. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. "Neah was responsible for our parents' death." Alpha Trey spits. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Responsible how?" Alpha Dane's voice rumbles through me. He was definitely angry. "She served them Wolfsbane." Don't make a sound. Don't make a sound. I knew Alpha Dane was studying me. They all did, no one could ever quite believe how someone could do something so disgusting as poisoning their own parents. I stood there, with my head hanging low, wishing for the ground to open up and suck me in. There are movements around me. He was standing directly in front of me. With a rough finger he tilts my face up towards his, forcing me to look at him. "You poisoned your parents?" "I was six." I splutter. "I just made them lemonade." My voice comes out all squeaky as I try to defend myself. I could barely remember my parents, but I could remember all the guilt I had been made to feel since that day. His crimson eyes flash to my brothers. "Hardly seems fair to blame a six year old." "A six year old should know the difference between plants." Alpha Trey snaps "Sounds to me like she was set up." Alpha Dane shrugs his shoulders, letting go of me. "You weren't there, Alpha Dane." My brother muttered through gritted teeth as his eyes narrowed to slits. "I didn't ask you here to talk about my slave!" Alpha Dane grabs his leather jacket from the chair. Unlike other Alpha's, he seemed to dress more casually, and his arms are bare of tattoos, not a single bit of ink poked out anywhere. "You're right and now I have a few things to mull over." "I thought we agreed." My brother exclaims. "Nothing has been signed. Now I will show myself out." The moment he is out of the office, my brother slams a hand into my stomach. "What the heck did you say to him?" "N...nothing. Well, he just asked me why I smelled funny." "Did you tell him?" My head involuntarily moves up and down. "But I didn't say it was you." I tried to sound strong and confident but it just comes out as a whisper. My brother's hand locks into my black hair as he yanks my head back, sending a shooting pain through my skull. "If you have ruined this, you won't see daylight again." He drags me by my hair from the office and down the hallway towards the basement door. "Please…." I beg. "He was an Alpha…I… I had to answer him." My cheeks burn with my tears as he flings the door open. On the other side of the door is Alpha Dane. He is leaning against the wall with his arms folded, staring out at us. My brother's hand falls from my hair, relieving the pressure on the back of my skull... "Alpha Dane, I thought you had left." Alpha Trey murmurs angrily. "I said I would show myself out. I thought I had found the door, but instead I find a basement, riddled in your sister's strange scent. Is this how you treat your family?" "It's none of your business!" Alpha Trey sputters. Alpha Dane laughs. "If I agree to this deal, everything about your business becomes my business. So tell me, what would your punishment be for her? No food, locked away for a week, beatings?" I see those crimson eyes land on my swollen face. "I have a proposition for you, Alpha Trey." "We have already agreed on terms." "Well, I'm adding one. And if you don't agree, you will not get my help. Instead, you will become my enemy. And we both know, you don't want that." "I take it that your new terms have something to do with her?" Alpha Trey mutters through clenched teeth. "You would be correct. Let me take her away to my pack and then you, Trey will have a deal." Me? Why would he want me? I was a nobody, no one special. "Deal." After a little more thinking, Alpha Trey sticks out his hand for Alpha Dane to shake. He doesn't take it, instead his crimson eyes shift from me to my brother. "I will have paperwork drawn up and will return tomorrow." He reaches a hand out and cups my face, "Ensure you have everything packed." He drags his thumb across my bottom lip and strides to the opposite end of the hallway and straight to the front door. He knew exactly where the front door was, so what was he up to? He pauses at the door. "If I find out you has laid a hand on her. The contract will be the last thing you need to worry about." He struts out, slamming the door behind him. After Dane leaves, my brother grabs me by the collar. "You think you're going to have a good life if you follow Alpha Dane out of here? Don't be naive!" He continues in a vicious voice. "He's the coldest man in the world, he's killed nine of his mates, I'm waiting to see what happens to you!" | LEARN_MORE | https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783& | New world publications | https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/ | 3,809 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | wwwedb.com | VIDEO | https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474584983_2269537400112779_5960840827843705877_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=WYZbjv-3yUUQ7kNvgH2oa5G&_nc_oc=AdhcFqaqW6m4b4r6_TluB7yKzTucbmkSEn_mzFLU4wTD4dQJ2_2ztFCa8Wckzvs2z75ynDDAikxIQjmp-ZnykefV&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A3h6NK8cTtMRscQSnJTQy0w&oh=00_AYDWx3iBX0dt7kawL7B68AUFuelbSfIjpDHOU_TOxS69Ew&oe=67CBAADC | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | New world publications | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2025-03-03 12:18 | active | 2772 | 0 | 😍Read the next chapters👉 | [Mrs. Gardner, are you sure you want to hire our team to stage a fire and fake your death in ten days?] Camellia Shaw paused for a moment. Just as she was about to reply to the message, a video call suddenly popped up. "Camellia, look! Andres is spending a fortune on you again!" The video was of an auction in progress. At the front, a man of striking elegance and charm was decisively bidding on several antique collectibles worth hundreds of millions. The crowd was already abuzz with excitement. "Mr. Gardner is so good to his wife! He bought all these antiques just to make her smile!" "$400 million is nothing! I heard Mr. Gardner even built her a private estate and named it Eterna Haven. Just the name alone is proof of how much he loves her." A wealthy businessman nearby sneered. "It's all for show. Who knows what he's really like behind closed doors?" That comment immediately sparked a wave of backlash. Many argued back, talking about how devoted Andres Gardner was to his wife. "If anyone in our circle could make me believe in love, it would be those two." "Mr. Gardner had risen to fame as a genius young painter, but it was his masterpiece, 'Beyond the Ordinary,' that made him a household name. "He once said his wife was his muse and source of inspiration. You can see his affection for her in every stroke and in every shadow of his paintings." As she listened to their murmurs, Camellia forced a bitter smile. She and Andres had entered an arranged marriage to merge their powerful families, meeting for the first time at the county clerk's office. Her family had never given her much love, so she assumed her marriage would be just as emotionless. However, Andres unexpectedly showered her with a special kind of affection. He remembered her peanut allergy and lactose intolerance, and he always prepared exquisite, expensive gifts for her birthday. Her heart softened over time. She even took him to visit her late mother's grave. Andres had solemnly vowed in front of the gravestone, "Mom, I swear that if I ever betray Cam, may I lose the one I love the most." Camellia laughed bitterly to herself. When did things start to change? Perhaps it was when she learned about his first love, who had passed away long ago, and found out he had taken in her younger sister to care for her. Maybe it was the day Valentina Dawson returned from abroad, throwing herself into his arms with a familiar intimacy he did not even try to refuse. Perhaps it was the faint lipstick stains on his shirt and the barely visible bite marks on his collarbone... That was when Camellia could no longer lie to herself. "Mr. Gardner, can you tell us if these are birthday gifts for Mrs. Gardner?" The question from the video snapped her back to the present. Andres' clear and steady voice rang out from the phone, "No, these are just small trinkets. I've prepared something far better for her birthday." This response drew envious gasps from the wealthy socialites watching. As Camellia prepared to end the call, she caught fragments of teasing voices in the background. "Andres, are you really planning to throw a grand wedding for Camellia in ten days?" "Of course. Anything to do with Camellia is a top priority. Make sure it's perfect!" "Understood. So… should we invite her to Val's celebration tomorrow night?" "No need. Don't let her find out." After that, Camellia could not hear anything else that Andres said. She hung up the call, staring at the message asking for her final decision. Slowly but firmly, she typed out her reply. [I'm sure.] Chapter 2 Not long after, Andres rushed home, looking travel-worn. Camellia wobbled slightly when she stood up—perhaps because she had not eaten all day—but Andres firmly caught her. "You didn't eat properly again today, did you?" he asked, his eyes full of concern as he gently scooped her into his arms. As they drew close, the sweet, cloying scent of fruit filled the air. Camellia never used perfume, so it was obvious who the scent belonged to. "What are you thinking, baby?" Andres teased while tapping her nose affectionately. Camellia's sharp eyes caught a faint red lipstick stain on his finger. On the second day of their marriage, Andres had secretly tattooed a camellia on his ring finger. He had told her that the ring finger had a blood vessel that led directly to the heart. This was a symbol of their shared bond and how she would always be connected to his heart, but that spot now bore a mark that did not belong to her. A dull pain rose in her chest. It was heavy and piercing, like a sharp blade chiseling away bit by bit. "Are you starving yourself so much you've lost your braincells?" Andres joked, kissing her forehead lightly before asking Eva Longford to serve the food that had been kept warm for dinner. Andres used to cook for her himself every day. However, some time into their marriage, his work grew busier, and the task naturally passed to the housekeeper. "Let me join you for dinner, okay? Skipping meals can really mess up your stomach," he said while carefully setting her down on a dining chair and placing the utensils by her hand. Then, he washed his hands and began peeling apples for her. "Okay," Camellia murmured, swallowing the bitterness in her heart and eating the food he placed on her plate in small bites. They had not been eating for long when Andres' phone began ringing incessantly. He glanced at the caller ID and frowned slightly before wiping his hands and stepping aside to take the call. When he returned, his expression was frantic. "Cam, something came up at the studio. I have to go handle it. Don't wait up for me tonight. You should go to bed early." He grabbed the antiques he had bought earlier. He promised to get her something even better another day and left in a rush. Once the meal was completely cold, Camellia finally stood up and went upstairs. As soon as she lay down, she scrolled through Valentina's latest post on social media. [I only had a low fever, but my boyfriend insisted on taking care of me. He even made me a table full of delicious food. Do you know how special a meal made for you by a loved one is?] The accompanying picture showed a close-up of a man in an apron cutting vegetables. As a rising name in the art world, Valentina had tens of thousands of followers on her account. The post caused a stir among her fans. [So this is the senior of hers with a nine-figure insurance policy on his right hand that Val mentioned!] [Where can I find a man like this? Can the government issue one to everyone, please?] Camellia stared at the hands in the photo and thought of Andres' promises. Her heart felt like it was being torn apart, leaving it shattered and unrecognizable. [That's nothing! Our Mr. Gardner is the gold standard for a devoted husband!] Someone had uploaded a video of the auction from earlier that day, and the buzz quickly overtook Valentina's post. [Damn, he really spoils his wife! $400 million! That's enough to buy my entire life hundreds of times over!] [Oh my God! Has anyone not been overwhelmed by Mr. Gardner's love for his wife yet? When his wife had a car accident and was scared, he risked his life to make sure he was the first person she saw when she woke up!] [Mr. Gardner is like a saint in our elite circle. He still wears the rosary beads Camellia gave him, perfectly polished from years of use. He never takes them off!] Valentina's fans went quiet under the video. Compared to Andres' public displays of devotion, a single meal could not measure up. However, a newly-registered user suddenly posted three photos. One showed the transfer of ownership for an Aurelia winery, another depicted a necklace worth $200 million called ‘The Heart of the Ocean’, and the last featured Valentina holding car keys while sitting on the hood of a Ferrari. The user captioned it: [If someone else has it, our Val can't be without it.] Fans exploded in praise, calling her senior powerful and declaring him on par with Andres. Just then, a text message from an unsaved number came through to Camellia's phone. "You absolutely can't miss the celebration my senior is throwing for me tomorrow night!" Though she did not say anything, Camellia could almost hear Valentina's smugness. The message ended with the address of the venue. 742, Ocean Middle Road, Camellia Street. It was the restaurant where Camellia and Andres had their first meal together. He had promised her it would always remain closed to the public, so it would belong only to the two of them. Camellia stared at the address until her eyes stung. Her hand slipped, and the phone dropped onto her face. The sharp pain from the impact pushed her over the edge, and the tears she had been holding back spilled silently into the darkness. Chapter 3 Andres did not return home all night. Camellia ended up sitting alone in the empty living room, waiting from early morning until noon. Her phone buzzed with a social media notification. [Renowned artist Andres Gardner stands in support of his junior. What a deep camaraderie between peers!] Camellia let out a bitter laugh. Of course he did. She stopped waiting and went alone to visit her mother's grave. She bought a bouquet of lisianthus on her way over. At the cemetery, she carefully cleaned her mother's tombstone, placed the flowers in front of it, and leaned gently against the stone. It was as if she was trying to feel the warmth of her mother's embrace. Andres returned home late at night. Just as he was about to ask why Camellia had not gone to bed yet, he noticed a bundle of lisianthus peeking out of her bag. It suddenly hit him that today was her mother's death anniversary. Panic flashed across his face. "Baby, I'm so sorry. I've been so busy today that I completely forgot. It's all my fault," he stammered, cupping her face and instinctively stroking the beauty mark at the corner of her eye. Camellia noticed the faint trace of a lipstick mark on his hairline just behind his ear. She gently pushed him away, her voice calm as she said, "It's fine." Trying to ease the tension, Andres suggested, "How about we have an artist paint a portrait of us tomorrow? Once it's done, we can take a photo with it and place it at your mother's grave to give her peace of mind." Camellia wanted to refuse, but Andres was insistent, so she reluctantly agreed. The next morning at ten, the artist he had arranged for arrived. "Nice to meet you, Cam. I'm Valentina Dawson, Andres'… junior." Seeing Valentina, Andres' face betrayed a flicker of unease. Clearly, she was not the artist he had called. "Mr. Wilson had something come up, so I'm filling in for him," Valentina explained, her gaze sweeping over Camellia with a faint, inscrutable smile. "Has anyone ever told you that you look a lot like my sister, Cam?" she asked. "My sister had a beauty mark in the exact same spot as yours. The only difference is that hers was real, while yours… is drawn on." The room fell silent. Andres' expression darkened as he snapped, "Val, that's enough. "No one is more important to me than Camellia," he said firmly. Valentina blinked in surprise, then playfully stuck out her tongue at him. "Alright. I was just joking." She hooked one arm around Camellia's and led her toward the studio. With her other hand, she reached behind, tracing lazy circles on Andres' palm. Her gaze was sultry and inviting. "Andres, you're standing all wrong," she complained moments after starting the painting. Setting her brush down, she stood up and walked over to him. She caressed his face with one hand while the other trailed down his chest. Her fingers brushed over his Adam's apple, then came to rest on his shoulder. Leaning in close, she breathed warm air into his ear. "Why so tense, Andres?" His eyes darkened instantly. Camellia caught a glimpse of their interaction from the corner of her eye. Pain stabbed through her chest, and she forced herself to look away. Barely a few minutes later, Valentina suggested that Camellia's pose was not intimate enough. "Let me show you how it's done, Cam," she said with a sly smile. She pushed Camellia aside and tugged Andres forward by his tie. Her full figure pressed against his chest as her thumb brushed deliberately over the corner of his lips. Finally, she left a bold kiss on his mouth. Turning to Camellia, she tilted her head with a brazen expression. "Do you get it now, Cam?" When he saw Camellia's reaction, Andres quickly explained, "In the art world, we're a bit more… uninhibited." Camellia said nothing, merely clenching her trembling hands to keep herself composed. She excused herself to the bathroom, needing to escape. When she returned, muffled sounds from inside the room made her stop in her tracks. "Andres, no… You're going to ruin me," a woman's voice purred breathlessly. As she peeked inside, Camellia saw Valentina with one leg wrapped around Andres' lean waist. Her back was pressed against the windowsill, and she was moving in rhythm with him. Andres' eyes burned with passion as he kissed her fiercely. "You came all the way to my house! Wasn't this what you wanted?" he growled. Chapter 4 Camellia collapsed at the doorway of the studio, tears streaming down her face. She thought she was strong enough to endure anything, but witnessing this scene shattered her heart. She did not know how much time passed before she heard the rustling sound of clothes being put on from inside the room. Andres came to the bathroom looking for her and froze when he saw her red, swollen eyes. "Baby, why are you crying?" he asked. Camellia shook her head. "It's nothing. I accidentally got soap in my eyes." He let out a sigh of relief and playfully pinched her cheek. "You're still such a little troublemaker," he teased. When the painting was nearly finished, Andres was called away by his agent. With him gone, Valentina dropped the act entirely. "I know you saw it, Cam. Well, what can you do about it? Andres seems to love me more than you." She unbuttoned her shirt, revealing bruises on her skin. "When's the last time you were with him? Was it as passionate as just now? Can you even satisfy him?" Valentina stepped closer, her gaze condescending. She seemed to relish the idea of seeing Camellia break down, and she looked was expecting pain or hysteria. However, Camellia's expression remained calm and even unreadable. Underneath, her heart was shattered into countless pieces, leaving her barely able to breathe. After Valentina left, Camellia wandered aimlessly back to the studio. She suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to look at the paintings. Without turning on the light, she stumbled up to the third floor. She ended up twisting her ankle in the dark. Even so, the sharp pain from her ankle was nothing compared to the ache in her heart. Every painting that was celebrated by the public as symbols of her and Andre’s ‘perfect love’ now stared back at her. Each prominently featured the beauty mark that now felt like a mocking lie. Camellia pulled a craft knife from the penholder and slashed through the beauty marks in each painting one by one. With every cut, she severed another piece of the beautiful memories she once shared with Andres. When Andres returned home, Camellia had already freshened up and was lying in bed, ready to sleep. He barged into the bedroom, carrying a keyboard from his study in one hand and takeout from her favorite restaurant in the other. Without hesitation, he dropped the keyboard onto the floor, knelt on it, and faced her. "Honey, I know what happened today upset you. I've already reprimanded Val," he said earnestly. "I only think of her as a younger sister. She's still immature and doesn't know any better. As for her sister… That ended a long time ago. Besides, she's not even here anymore. "If you don't like it, I swear I won't see her again. But no matter how angry you are, please don't ruin your health by skipping meals…" The man who had been utterly consumed with Valentina earlier that day was now kneeling humbly before her, his tone desperate and full of affection. It was as if he could not live without her. For a moment, Camellia could not tell which version of Andres was real. If he loved her so much, how could he forget the vows he once made? If he loved her so much, why did he betray her? As Andres passed a dish toward her, he accidentally creased a page in the book lying on the bedside table. Camellia glanced over, and he casually smoothed it out and closed the book. "I fixed it. Now, eat," he said with a smile. The familiar aroma of the dish wafted from the bowl. Camellia took a few bites before saying, "But once a page is creased, it can never be perfectly smooth again." Andres, who was already sensitive about the day, tensed at her words. He knew it carried a deeper meaning. "Then I'll buy a new book. It'll be as good as new," he said, his bright eyes fixed on her. It was like his entire world revolved around her. "I'd pluck the stars from the sky for you if you asked." Camellia stayed silent, swallowing the words she wanted to say. Even if he had bought a new one, it would only be a replacement—it would no longer be the same book. She understood this truth, and he should have understood it even more. The two spent the night in silence. Over the next few days, perhaps out of guilt, Andres canceled all his work and stayed glued to Camellia's side. One day, he accompanied her to restore artifacts, buying a few antique treasures worth millions. The next day, he took her shopping and bought her an entire collection of the season's limited-edition items. The day after, he somehow got his hands on a pink Rolls-Royce Cullinan, parking it dramatically at the entrance of Eterna Haven in the city center as a grand gesture of love. This display led to a wave of online ridicule, with netizens mocking Andres' for being wrapped around his wife’s finger. Andres posted a self-deprecating tweet with a picture of himself kneeling on a keyboard. [I made my wife mad. How do I fix this if nothing works?] Only then did people realize Andres' predicament, with many pleading for Camellia to forgive him. With two days left until Camellia's birthday, she still had things to take care of. Seeing Andres' desperate efforts, she decided to go along with it and let the matter drop. Andres was overjoyed, lifting her in his arms and spinning her around several times. "Baby, I love you more than anything in this life! You’re my only love!" On the way to dinner, Andres received several phone calls. The number flashing on the screen was one Camellia knew well—Valentina's. He declined the calls four times before finally receiving a message. When he opened it, a single glance made his expression falter. "Baby, my agent says there's an issue with the new painting contract. I need to handle it right away," Andres said apologetically. Camellia did not call out his lie and let him leave. She then bought a baseball cap and mask from a roadside shop and hailed a car to follow him. She trailed him into a mall and all the way to her once-favorite bridal boutique. The dressing room curtain opened, and there stood Valentina, radiant in the wedding dress Camellia had loved most. "Do I look beautiful, Andres?" Valentina asked. She reached out, her hand sliding from Andres' shoulder, tracing his Adam's apple, and stopping just shy of his lips in a teasing caress. Andres' eyes darkened. He cupped her face and kissed her deeply. Both of them were breathless by the time they pulled apart. Valentina curled into Andres' chest, tracing lazy circles on it with her finger. "Andres, if Cam finds out I wore this dress first, she'll probably lose it," she murmured. Andres' breathing grew heavier as he pulled her into the dressing room and drew the curtain shut. "She won't know. I owe you a wedding, and it's my fault you've been wronged," he replied. "Today, you're my most beautiful bride." With those words, the sound of running water filled the dressing room, accompanied by intimate whispers. Chapter 5 Camellia stood in a distant corner, watching through the gap in the dressing room curtains as Valentina and Andres’ entwined figures moved. Her heart twisted in unbearable pain. Her stomach churned violently, and she could not suppress the urge to dry heave. Her entire body was now convulsing uncontrollably. Tears streamed down her face, draining all her strength. She collapsed onto the floor, feeling utterly spent. As she turned to leave, she did not get to see the satisfied smile on Valentina's face inside the dressing room. Back home, the oppressive silence was suffocating. Camellia turned on the television, flipping to a random channel. It was broadcasting a segment on Andres' latest art exhibition. The painting featured a girl in a bright yellow dress running freely through a field. The commentators remarked on how drastically different this piece was from Andres' earlier works. It no longer exuded a soft, reserved gentleness but instead brimmed with vitality and energy. Though the girl's face was not visible, her back displayed the painter's tenderness and love for her. One critic observed sharply, "Even the strands of her flying hair are perfect, like the wind itself favors her." Online, viewers joked about Andres' newfound spark, saying his marriage with Camellia must have entered a second spring. Only Camellia knew the truth. That was not her. It was Valentina, or perhaps it was Nelina Dawson, the woman from his dreams. Taking a deep breath, she tried to suppress the ache in her chest and called her best friend, Penelope Hall. While waiting for Penelope's arrival, Camellia began sorting through the gifts Andres had given her over the years. In the first year of their marriage, he noticed her concerns and gave her a diamond bangle. "I've locked you in for this lifetime. You belong to me now, so don't even think about leaving," he had said. In their second year, he noticed how much she missed her mother and folded her a jar of wishing stars. "When you miss your mom, open one. No matter where I am or what time it is, I'll come back to make your wish come true. This life might be long, but I'll always be here with you." Camellia began unwrapping the stars one by one. [Plant a little tree.] [Adopt a corgi.] [Grow old together.] … She picked up her phone, snapped a picture of one of the stars, and sent it to Andres. Her phone screen remained dark. There was no response from him. Half an hour later, a package arrived. It was the painting Valentina had made for them that day. However, instead of depicting the two of them sitting side by side, the image showed two entangled figures of Andres and Valentina in bed. Something cold slid down Camellia's cheek. She raised her hand to wipe it away and realized her face was already soaked with tears. In a daze, she placed the painting with all of Andres' other works in the studio. Then, she gathered every gift he had ever given her into a box, carried it into the yard, and set it ablaze. Later, Penelope would recall the moment she saw Camellia that day. She felt as if Camellia was on the verge of breaking into pieces. Penelope walked over and held her close without saying a word, letting Camellia lean on her silently. After a long while, once Camellia calmed down, she made another request. "Help me arrange a funeral. But Andres must not attend it. Only then, reveal the truth about my 'death' to him." Camellia handed Penelope an envelope containing evidence of Valentina's relentless provocations over the past few months. Penelope glanced through it and nodded firmly while suppressing her anger. Once everything was set, it was already late at night. That day, Andres quietly slipped into the house at 2 a.m. Seeing Camellia still awake did not surprise him. He approached her like a child with a prize, his eyes brimming with excitement. "I knew you'd still be up. I was too busy earlier to check my messages, but look—I'm here to make your wish come true!" He moved the small tea table by the window to the bed, fetched two bowls, and divided the seafood boil he had brought home into portions. The wish on the paper star Camellia had sent to Andres earlier in the day was to eat her favorite food with him. For some reason, Camellia's mind wandered back to the first time they went to that seafood restaurant together. It might have been Andres' first time eating at a small roadside restaurant. Before eating, he had wiped the oily table repeatedly with napkins and was clearly uncomfortable. However, he smiled at her with mock innocence when she looked his way, almost playfully. "Cam, feed me," he had said. "I'll try anything if it makes you happy." "Andres." Camellia fixed her gaze on his face. "If you could do it all over again, would you still choose this?" Andres did not think much of her question and assumed she was feeling insecure again. He gently stroked her dark hair and answered with certainty. "I would. I'd make the same choices every time. "I'd love you, spoil you, and stay devoted to you for the rest of my life." Chapter 6 The following day, Andres did not leave the house early like he usually did. He squeezed toothpaste onto Camellia's toothbrush and stood by, watching as she finished washing her face. "It's extremely windy today. We can't let it ruin my baby's delicate little face," he said with playful affection. Then, he told her he had a big surprise planned for the next day with an air of mystery. Before he could finish explaining, Cohen Palmer called a few times, saying there was an issue he could not resolve and needed Andres to come immediately. Andres gave Camellia an apologetic glance, and when she reassured him that she understood, he left. Once he was gone, Camellia contacted the team she had hired to confirm every detail for the next day. Then, she drove to Eterna Haven. She had not visited in several days, and everything felt unfamiliar. She called the Saltsburg Museum, and the curator arrived in person an hour later. "Cam, are you sure you want to donate all of this to the country for free?" The curator, Felix Cross, was a fellow apprentice of her mentor. Camellia nodded without hesitation. "You can tell me if you're facing any difficulties. Don't try to handle it all on your own," he said with concern. Camellia remained silent, her gaze fixed on the goddess statue in the center of the room. With its head bowed and its elegant, serene posture, the statue seemed to smile compassionately. Covered in moss and denied the light of day, it exuded a quiet sorrow toward the world. Camellia was leaving, but these artifacts should not be buried with her. "It's nothing, Felix. Don't worry about me," she said softly. Seeing her unwillingness to elaborate, Felix did not press further. After instructing his assistants to carefully transport the artifacts, he patted her shoulder before leaving. "Take care of yourself," he said as he departed. Once again, she was alone. The once vibrant Eterna Haven now felt hollow and empty. Her phone buzzed with a notification. It was about Valentina's online book signing event for her new illustration collection. The clickbaity title read: [The Beautiful Artist Who Once Had a Miscarriage for Love.] Camellia's fingers moved almost involuntarily to click on the link. The video cut to Valentina showing a scar on her abdomen. "Back then, he said I was too young, and the pregnancy was on the risky side. Out of concern for me, he stayed by my side for the procedure," Valentina said with a blissful expression. "It must have been about three years ago when he went to Faren to further his studies… "He even picked out a name for our lost baby—Cale. He said he hoped she'd return to us one day and live a life full of brilliance and light…" Camellia's phone slipped from her grasp, crashing to the floor. The screen shattered, forming a spider web of cracks. Cale? That was the nickname Andres had given their child after their first night together. He had held her tenderly afterward, murmuring the name as if it were a promise. Him and Valentina… had a child… Not to mention that it was three years ago. It had not just been going on for the past three months. Andres had lied to her for three entire years. Suddenly, Valentina was pulled into the frame as someone's arm draped around her shoulders. The sound of kissing filled the audio feed. When she reappeared on screen, her lips were swollen, and her cheeks were flushed pink. She giggled, saying her boyfriend was jealous and insisted they should ‘work harder’ to bring Cale back soon. Her fans erupted in excitement, flooding the chat with playful teasing, though their blessings were genuine. The illustration book sold well, as though it was part of their celebratory gift. Camellia did not know when the signing event ended. The last rays of sunlight disappeared from the room, leaving behind a suffocating darkness. It felt like a giant beast was ready to devour her. She simply sat motionless in her chair with the lights off. Suddenly, her phone screen lit up and became blindingly bright. It was a video message from Valentina, accompanied by a single line. "I told you I'd have you under my feet one day." The video showed two intertwined, bare legs. Camellia was about to delete it when something caught her eye—the rosary beads she had once given Andres. She had it blessed for him, but now they were wrapped around Valentina's ankle. The beads that were slightly large for her looped around her ankle twice. The excess length dangled, with a few beads pressed under Valentina's toe. "They're just rosary beads. If you want them, they're yours," Andres' voice in the video sounded indifferent and dismissive. Camellia's mind flashed back to the day Andres received the beads. "Cam, I'll always keep these with me, even in death," he had promised. The color drained from Camellia's face. She wanted to cry and let out all the pain, but no tears came. The light in her eyes had faded completely. Late at night, as the world slept, no one noticed when Eterna Haven went up in roaring flames. Andres was up early the next morning, preparing for the day. He had just arrived at Quaint Hotel and finished tidying up when Cohen burst in, pale and clutching at his phone. "Andres! Something terrible has happened!" Before Cohen could continue, Andres' phone rang. He held up a finger to silence him and answered the call. As he listened, his gaze shifted to Cohen's phone, where an image stopped him cold. The once-familiar pink Cullinan was now charred black, surrounded by the smoldering remains of Eterna Haven. Smoke billowed from the scene, and a stretcher held a body covered by a white sheet nearby. The voice on the phone interrupted his thoughts. "Hello, is this Mr. Andres Gardner? This is the Saltsburg Police Department. We regret to inform you of a tragic incident. "The property under your wife's name, Eterna Haven, caught fire last night. Unfortunately, your wife did not survive. Our condolences." | LEARN_MORE | https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 375 | 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=18306&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/t39.35426-6/477174829_1847467409337464_2133183261540147000_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=9XzwhyQ9bOAQ7kNvgF1APYk&_nc_oc=Adge04lInZHFshrVnh3ZsAETHa1TulSd4DYdG1lmmfvvW4noaIqpo05hSyS3koXnfbCHh4EWz_oZsEYKbvmIVeD_&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A9jhS9JghWareyqwtK4rUsv&oh=00_AYBB4P-4TCeZnchEKrodD7HwNyI3xwrfO6lQOsAKNRveKw&oe=67CBBB42 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-03-03 12:18 | active | 2772 | 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/ | 609 | 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=898E73583E5F98798C3D25C0CD8A0B9C4627383413AC29F2 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475900221_1779458969545438_6911658912470786350_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=p3HO5WYtSsAQ7kNvgGhO_4G&_nc_oc=Adg0y_3xgYV8H7hSyJ0Z35JIomUkaRvKs3Kp7-7saQz4-H3SXwrTJEQHWc3bMpX2UWf3jSnr2i-JMCM8nRSsSnTA&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A5P0lspc7Mb1caeTCswSTXA&oh=00_AYBIU2LjVTwB4VDmfqvSLcafTM8d2OsCdHxxcZl10oSurQ&oe=67CBD0E8 | 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 | On her wedding day, her stepsister set her up, framing her with accusations of promiscuity, academic fraud, and attempted murder. She was personally brought to court by her fiancé and imprisoned for three years, enduring inhuman torment! ===== On the day Khloe Evans was put on trial by her fiance, it was raining heavily. "Khloe Evans, you are suspected of bribing competition judges, academic fraud, and attempted homicide. Do you plead guilty or not?" Inside the silent and solemn courtroom, the judge's gavel echoed, signaling the start of a tense moment. Khloe's bl**dshot eyes were filled with anger and desperation, staring at Eric Watson, her fiance. She couldn't help but sneer. They had spent four years from falling in love to getting married; she had always believed that he loved her deeply and that their married life would be blissful. But on their wedding day, he personally put her on trial because of her stepsister's words. The Watson family was one of the wealthiest and most influential families in the country. No one would dare to offend them for a nobody like her. Khloe said word by word, "I have nothing to say." All along, she thought Eric was the love of her life. But it turned out he had been having an a**air with her stepsister, Sloane Evans. What was more, he had stolen her academic achievements. And now, he falsely accused her of being a m*rderer. He was ruthless. What else could she say? The judge banged his gavel again and gave his verdict. "The court hereby sentences the defendant, Khloe Evans, to eight years in prison and a fine of three hundred thousand dollars." The trial concluded, and the prison guards escorted Khloe. As she walked out of the courtroom, Khloe turned and looked back at Eric, sitting in the plaintiff's seat, her eyes burning with deep hatred and fury. ...... Three years had passed. "Khloe Evans, someone has bailed you out. You're free to go." Upon hearing that, Khloe raised her head, her pale face filled with shock. After suffering from endless torture for three years, she had thought that she was bound to stay there for the full sentence. She didn't expect that she would be released one day. An hour after she was released from prison, Khloe was taken to a hospital. She entered a ward, and her heart clenched when she saw her mother through the ICU door, lying motionless in the hospital bed. With a pale face and various apparatus connected to her body, she looked lifeless. "Mom..." Khloe got all worked up, her voice trembling with emotion. She wanted to open the door and go in. "Stop it! This ward is specially secured. No one is allowed to enter without my permission." A female voice suddenly rang out behind her. Khloe turned around and was surprised to see the person who spoke. "Sloane? My mom severed ties with the Evans family long ago. Why are you still doing this to her?" As she spoke, she glared at Sloane with eyes full of hatred. Sloane looked at Khloe, a flicker of jealousy and disdain flashing across her eyes. Then, she sneered, "Khloe, looks like you are mistaken. I'm saving her. Without me, your mother would have died long ago. Perhaps, by the time you come out of prison, you will only see her tomb." Khloe took a deep breath to calm herself down. "Sloane, stop being so hypocritical. You are saving my mother? Only a fool will believe that. What are you really up to? You're using her to manipulate me, right?" "Khloe, you're as clever as ever. No wonder they called you the rising star of academia. But it's a pity that you are now a convict for attempted murder. And your fate is in my hands," Sloane taunted. "So, today, all you need to do is spend a night with Karl Russell. Then, I'll arrange for your release and your mother's treatment." "Karl Russell? That old man is already in his sixties. Are you out of your mind?" Khloe's eyes widened in disbelief. "So what? Should I care? It's you who are going to sleep with him, not me. As long as you spend one night with him, our family can secure the Russell family's arms deal. It's a very lucrative business. You should feel honored that you are selling out your body to make so much money for us. But if you refuse..." Sloane pointed to the ICU. "I'll have them remove your mom's life support, and she'll die right in front of you. I'll give you five seconds to decide. Five, four, three..." "Fine! I'll go," Khloe agreed in despair. This time, she could no longer suppress the tears she had been holding back. She was left with no choice. For the sake of her mother, she had to do it. After freshening up, Khloe was put into a car. Tonight, she was destined to sleep with a sixty-something disgusting man. And she was still a v**gin. Chapter 2 Henrik Watson That night, the car glided through the deserted streets, headlights cutting into the night's inky darkness. Bang! A g*nshot shattered the silence, deafening and ominously close. Glass sprayed across the seats as the car window exploded, fragments glittering in the dim streetlights. All hell broke loose. Terrified creams echoed in the street as the few remaining shops hurried to lower their shutters. The driver, white-faced and trembling, veered in a panic. The car skidded, tires screeching before slamming into the curb. He slumped forward, unconscious. Beside him, Khloe blinked, disoriented from the impact. Pressing a hand to her throbbing head, she tried to make sense of what had happened. Through the cracked window, she glimpsed flickering orange flames a short distance away. "Oh, no!" She'd stumbled straight into the deadly crossfires of a g*nfight. It was likely a turf war turned ugly by two warring gangs. Steadying herself, Khloe pushed open the door and crouched low, inching towards the roadside. But before she could move further, a figure emerged from the darkness. Tall and powerfully built, he was moving fast. Even though a mask obscured most of his features, she could still see his intense eyes and the proud outline of his nose. A dark stain spread across his side, seeping through his clothes--bl**d. He stumbled towards her, breathing heavily, and collapsed at her feet. Just then, another group of burly men burst from the shadows, each armed to the teeth. Their faces were etched with vicious determination, each bearing a t**too on the hand. "Perfect! He's down. Now, finish him off!" The leader, bald and snarling, held up his g*n and pointed it towards the fallen man. Then, his gaze fell on Khloe. She was dressed to the nines, as she was meant to be a gift for a man tonight. A tight red dress hugged her perfect figure, accentuating her curves and complimenting her porcelain skin. Her glossy hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a delicate, doll-like face with wide, innocent eyes. In a word, she looked like a vision from a dream--or a man's t**ptation made flesh. The bald man's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with le**erous intent. He had never seen such a beautiful woman before, and he wasn't about to let an opportunity like this slide. "While you're finishing him off, I'll help myself to this beauty." He lunged, shoving Khloe back against the shattered window, pressing his weight against her. "No, please!" she pleaded, her voice trembling as she tried to pull away. "Please don't hurt me." "Why would I hurt a beauty like you?" he taunted, his fingers gripping her shoulder tightly as he leaned closer, his hot breath on her skin. His men jeered behind him, urging him on, enjoying the show. But Khloe's hand moved, almost imperceptibly, reaching into her purse. In one swift, desperate motion, her fingers closed around a pen, and she drove it up into his neck with a fierce thrust. The bald man's eyes widened in shock as bl**d spurted from the wound, his grip loosening. Gone was the look of a damsel in distress; her eyes, which were so full of fear just a second earlier, now glinted with a cold light. What was once a delicate, angelic beauty had transformed into a bl**d-stained rose, dark and dangerous. "B**ch, you're asking for it!" The henchmen froze for a split second, then fury overcame them, and they charged at Khloe with murderous intent. Her voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. "Don't move, or I'll pull the pen out! He'll bleed out on the spot!" The men abruptly stopped in their tracks. No one dared to move a muscle. At this moment, the man who'd been lying motionless suddenly sprang to life, g*n in hand, and unleashed a hail of b*llets on the stunned th*gs. He moved with such agility that it was clear his injury had only been a ruse. Even the bald man Khloe held hostage collapsed in a bl**dy heap, a bullet having shattered his skull in an instant. Khloe spun her head just in time, avoiding the bl**d splatter. But her clothes and legs weren't so lucky; they were stained with bl**d, sticky and warm. "Ugh!" The sickly, metallic scent hit her, and her stomach churned. She couldn't stop herself from retching, knees buckling as she collapsed sideways. But before she hit the ground, an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her upright. The man's grip was firm, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Feisty little thing, weren't you so badass just a second ago? What happened?" Khloe recoiled, shoving him away, her face twisting in defiance. "Let go of me!" Before she could get another word out, black-clad men suddenly emerged from the shadows, their faces hard, eyes cold. Even the surrounding rooftops showed silhouettes of these men, controlling all sniper points. Each man moved with such deadly precision, and Khloe could tell at a glance that they were all experienced killers. They brandished machine guns and rocket launchers with practiced ease, as though these were everyday items. In a word, they looked like an elite strike force--battle-hardened, lethal. Unexpectedly, one by one, they all started dropping to their knees, as though bowing before a king. Thousands of them bowed in unison. "Awaiting your orders, Mr. Watson," the leader announced reverently. Khloe's breath hitched. "Are you Henrik Watson?" Chapter 3 The Kiss Henrik accepted a handkerchief from his trusted aide, Rhett Foster, wiping the bl**d from his hands with deliberate, almost regal precision. He then removed his mask slowly, revealing a face that could seize anyone's breath. His eyes were dark, magnetic pools, deep enough to pull anyone in. And above his perfectly-shaped lips was a prominent, sculpted nose. His chiseled features conveyed both power and beauty, almost too flawless to belong to any ordinary man. It was the kind of face that could eclipse even the brightest stars in the showbiz. But more than his appearance, it was his aura--commanding, indomitable--that sent shivers down spines. This was a man who held dominion over countless lives. Henrik smiled, a flash of danger glinting in his eyes. "So what if I am?" Khloe's eyes went as wide as saucers. Henrik Watson--that name carried the weight of legend. Henrik had once been a branch member of the Watson family before vanishing into obscurity for ten long years. When he resurfaced, he singlehandedly seized control of the nation's underworld, rendering him a king without rival. In fact, he was so powerful that even the president treaded carefully around him. Khloe's ex-fiance, Eric, was a member of the Watson family, which had ascended from obscurity to supremacy solely thanks to Henrik. By blood, Eric was Henrik's nephew. So, if her marriage to Eric pushed through, Henrik would be her husband's uncle. Khloe's stepsister, Sloane, had maneuvered her into offering herself to Karl Russell. Though Karl held sway in the city, he was nothing against Henrik's underworld might. It was like comparing a lion to a mouse. As the thought struck her, hope flickered within Khloe. If she could gain Henrik's support, she might escape her forced sacrifice, and her mother could be saved. Steadying her breath, she asked tentatively, "Since I just helped you, could I ask you a favor?" Henrik's gaze sharpened, eyes gleaming with intrigue. It was the first time a woman had faced him with such poise, especially after witnessing him kill so many people. Interest piqued, Henrik strode towards Khloe with an almost lazy confidence, each step measured and unhurried. His sculpted fingers pinched her chin, lifting it so she was looking right at him. He held her gaze as he studied her with a trace of amusement in his eyes. His voice, low and rich, sent a chill through the air. "Do you have any idea who you're talking to? Aren't you afraid I'll kill you?" A shiver raced through Khloe's heart. His presence was overwhelming, like a storm cloud closing in, suffocating in its intensity. He was dangerous--merely speaking to him was like playing with fire. But she had nowhere else to turn; Henrik was her only chance. "I have a Ph.D. in chemistry and medicine, along with patents--highly profitable ones. If you help me, I can make you money," she said, voice steady but with a glint of desperation. Henrik shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Money?" he murmured, his fingers brushing her cheek. "Do I look like I lack money?" The scent of bl**d clung faintly to his skin, chilling her even as he remained outwardly gentle. Khloe's guard went up instinctively, her body tensing beneath his touch. "What do you want?" she ventured cautiously. "If it's within my power, I'm willing to exchange anything." A spark flickered in Henrik's dark eyes, something enigmatic and unreadable. He let his gaze drift over her as if considering her offer. "Anything, you say?" All of a sudden, he let out a chilling laugh. "Then I want this." In one swift motion, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. And there, before all his men, he kissed her. Chapter 4 Decisive Action The kiss came unexpectedly. Khloe was caught off guard, unable to respond in time. Henrik's subordinates stood frozen, their eyes wide with disbelief. They had all worked for him for years, and never once had they seen him so close with a woman. Henrik had always been the type to keep his distance from women. In the past, women who approached him either ended up as fish food or were sent to toil in the mines at his orders. What kind of spell had this woman cast? How was it that she managed to make Henrik abandon all his usual rules, and all on their very first meeting? As the crowd remained stunned and puzzled, Khloe's thoughts swirled in chaos, making it impossible to think straight. Henrik's kiss was overwhelming, like a storm crashing down on her, leaving her breathless and dizzy. She found herself trapped in his arms, held so tightly it felt as though she were a flower caught in a violent storm. Yet she was anything but fragile. Once the shock wore off, a surge of anger rose within her. For years, she had endured humiliation, her fall from grace plunging her into the darkest depths. But giving up was never an option; she had always been plotting her revenge. It was only natural that she refused to yield. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss with equal ferocity. After all, what harm could a kiss do? And the man was both devastatingly handsome and of high standing. She would not suffer any losses. She skillfully fought back with her t**gue, refusing to let him dominate her entirely. Instead of pulling back, she met his intensity head-on, taking the lead. What began as a one-sided kiss quickly transformed into a fierce exchange, each of them vying for control, pushing and pulling in a heated battle for dominance. The kiss was fierce and all-consuming, each second more passionate than the last, until they were both gasping for air. When they finally pulled away, their lips were swollen and stained with bl**d, a testament to the intensity of the moment. Henrik let go of Khloe, his hand brushing against the corner of his mouth where her teeth had left their mark. His gaze was intense, locking onto her with a depth that seemed to pierce right through her. Khloe held his stare steadily, not flinching or showing even the slightest sign of discomfort. Her fearless attitude earned her the respect of those watching. It was clear now why Henrik was drawn to her. She was bold, with a courage that couldn't be ignored. She had the audacity to bite Henrik's lips, unafraid of the consequences. Henrik continued to gaze at Khloe, a growing satisfaction building within him. The sting on his lips reminded him sharply of what had just happened. The woman standing before him, with a face as stunning as an angel's, was no delicate flower. She was a thorny rose, and anyone foolish enough to underestimate her would undoubtedly pay the price. But that was exactly what made her so captivating--it was the danger beneath the beauty that drew him in. "Mr. Watson, is everything to your liking?" Khloe asked, breaking the stillness. "Yes, let's go," Henrik replied with a smile. "Now, let's take care of your little issue." ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &9& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65284322-fb_contact-e | Romance Novel | https://www.facebook.com/100083771162998/ | 48,200 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | IMAGE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65284322-fb_contact-enp98_2-1210-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=DD7CCA935D14747F1071D7651EFB20096CFC934162031CC3 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475231188_3879205132298075_5192744119042073073_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=YgWBp89b0ygQ7kNvgFbB_c0&_nc_oc=AdimeZHIstdaRaXnU6VF9kxkggrDCjYvY2MjfkZ2P2nRYLh0VkSIxS1O6WuUi2upEt7kcyG1o4IdUw-9VycXKKQs&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ArcoKsUkSiFpWqROrjk7EqB&oh=00_AYDsHABTPqJPkHM61-j9FkC-HW9vz5joncR3f4gLWlboAw&oe=67CBD631 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Romance Novel | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2025-03-03 12:18 | active | 2772 | 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/ | 17,999 | 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=E7C53BDECE0DE88BF9C3B9FFC5AFF5B8FF9262D12C851B3B | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475640420_2120444968377559_9130158678072414557_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nKF2hI02fNgQ7kNvgF3fGlo&_nc_oc=AdhmhRx0A090R2vnfDsbqrhyzo4AG7r_8gsP9suIYSGH3VKSv4HkVj2rw9hGrSa0SLedMUFNAP_ioeDNAk0mJnvL&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ArUaWl61YexoeV_v7gHkGCI&oh=00_AYAR7igTXxzJH7pwmddhimu_k93pNc4ODQ6KkuhIB1bNkg&oe=67CBC32E | 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 | On her wedding day, her stepsister set her up, framing her with accusations of promiscuity, academic fraud, and attempted murder. She was personally brought to court by her fiancé and imprisoned for three years, enduring inhuman torment! ===== On the day Khloe Evans was put on trial by her fiance, it was raining heavily. "Khloe Evans, you are suspected of bribing competition judges, academic fraud, and attempted homicide. Do you plead guilty or not?" Inside the silent and solemn courtroom, the judge's gavel echoed, signaling the start of a tense moment. Khloe's bl**dshot eyes were filled with anger and desperation, staring at Eric Watson, her fiance. She couldn't help but sneer. They had spent four years from falling in love to getting married; she had always believed that he loved her deeply and that their married life would be blissful. But on their wedding day, he personally put her on trial because of her stepsister's words. The Watson family was one of the wealthiest and most influential families in the country. No one would dare to offend them for a nobody like her. Khloe said word by word, "I have nothing to say." All along, she thought Eric was the love of her life. But it turned out he had been having an a**air with her stepsister, Sloane Evans. What was more, he had stolen her academic achievements. And now, he falsely accused her of being a m*rderer. He was ruthless. What else could she say? The judge banged his gavel again and gave his verdict. "The court hereby sentences the defendant, Khloe Evans, to eight years in prison and a fine of three hundred thousand dollars." The trial concluded, and the prison guards escorted Khloe. As she walked out of the courtroom, Khloe turned and looked back at Eric, sitting in the plaintiff's seat, her eyes burning with deep hatred and fury. ...... Three years had passed. "Khloe Evans, someone has bailed you out. You're free to go." Upon hearing that, Khloe raised her head, her pale face filled with shock. After suffering from endless torture for three years, she had thought that she was bound to stay there for the full sentence. She didn't expect that she would be released one day. An hour after she was released from prison, Khloe was taken to a hospital. She entered a ward, and her heart clenched when she saw her mother through the ICU door, lying motionless in the hospital bed. With a pale face and various apparatus connected to her body, she looked lifeless. "Mom..." Khloe got all worked up, her voice trembling with emotion. She wanted to open the door and go in. "Stop it! This ward is specially secured. No one is allowed to enter without my permission." A female voice suddenly rang out behind her. Khloe turned around and was surprised to see the person who spoke. "Sloane? My mom severed ties with the Evans family long ago. Why are you still doing this to her?" As she spoke, she glared at Sloane with eyes full of hatred. Sloane looked at Khloe, a flicker of jealousy and disdain flashing across her eyes. Then, she sneered, "Khloe, looks like you are mistaken. I'm saving her. Without me, your mother would have died long ago. Perhaps, by the time you come out of prison, you will only see her tomb." Khloe took a deep breath to calm herself down. "Sloane, stop being so hypocritical. You are saving my mother? Only a fool will believe that. What are you really up to? You're using her to manipulate me, right?" "Khloe, you're as clever as ever. No wonder they called you the rising star of academia. But it's a pity that you are now a convict for attempted murder. And your fate is in my hands," Sloane taunted. "So, today, all you need to do is spend a night with Karl Russell. Then, I'll arrange for your release and your mother's treatment." "Karl Russell? That old man is already in his sixties. Are you out of your mind?" Khloe's eyes widened in disbelief. "So what? Should I care? It's you who are going to sleep with him, not me. As long as you spend one night with him, our family can secure the Russell family's arms deal. It's a very lucrative business. You should feel honored that you are selling out your body to make so much money for us. But if you refuse..." Sloane pointed to the ICU. "I'll have them remove your mom's life support, and she'll die right in front of you. I'll give you five seconds to decide. Five, four, three..." "Fine! I'll go," Khloe agreed in despair. This time, she could no longer suppress the tears she had been holding back. She was left with no choice. For the sake of her mother, she had to do it. After freshening up, Khloe was put into a car. Tonight, she was destined to sleep with a sixty-something disgusting man. And she was still a v**gin. Chapter 2 Henrik Watson That night, the car glided through the deserted streets, headlights cutting into the night's inky darkness. Bang! A g*nshot shattered the silence, deafening and ominously close. Glass sprayed across the seats as the car window exploded, fragments glittering in the dim streetlights. All hell broke loose. Terrified creams echoed in the street as the few remaining shops hurried to lower their shutters. The driver, white-faced and trembling, veered in a panic. The car skidded, tires screeching before slamming into the curb. He slumped forward, unconscious. Beside him, Khloe blinked, disoriented from the impact. Pressing a hand to her throbbing head, she tried to make sense of what had happened. Through the cracked window, she glimpsed flickering orange flames a short distance away. "Oh, no!" She'd stumbled straight into the deadly crossfires of a g*nfight. It was likely a turf war turned ugly by two warring gangs. Steadying herself, Khloe pushed open the door and crouched low, inching towards the roadside. But before she could move further, a figure emerged from the darkness. Tall and powerfully built, he was moving fast. Even though a mask obscured most of his features, she could still see his intense eyes and the proud outline of his nose. A dark stain spread across his side, seeping through his clothes--bl**d. He stumbled towards her, breathing heavily, and collapsed at her feet. Just then, another group of burly men burst from the shadows, each armed to the teeth. Their faces were etched with vicious determination, each bearing a t**too on the hand. "Perfect! He's down. Now, finish him off!" The leader, bald and snarling, held up his g*n and pointed it towards the fallen man. Then, his gaze fell on Khloe. She was dressed to the nines, as she was meant to be a gift for a man tonight. A tight red dress hugged her perfect figure, accentuating her curves and complimenting her porcelain skin. Her glossy hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a delicate, doll-like face with wide, innocent eyes. In a word, she looked like a vision from a dream--or a man's t**ptation made flesh. The bald man's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with le**erous intent. He had never seen such a beautiful woman before, and he wasn't about to let an opportunity like this slide. "While you're finishing him off, I'll help myself to this beauty." He lunged, shoving Khloe back against the shattered window, pressing his weight against her. "No, please!" she pleaded, her voice trembling as she tried to pull away. "Please don't hurt me." "Why would I hurt a beauty like you?" he taunted, his fingers gripping her shoulder tightly as he leaned closer, his hot breath on her skin. His men jeered behind him, urging him on, enjoying the show. But Khloe's hand moved, almost imperceptibly, reaching into her purse. In one swift, desperate motion, her fingers closed around a pen, and she drove it up into his neck with a fierce thrust. The bald man's eyes widened in shock as bl**d spurted from the wound, his grip loosening. Gone was the look of a damsel in distress; her eyes, which were so full of fear just a second earlier, now glinted with a cold light. What was once a delicate, angelic beauty had transformed into a bl**d-stained rose, dark and dangerous. "B**ch, you're asking for it!" The henchmen froze for a split second, then fury overcame them, and they charged at Khloe with murderous intent. Her voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. "Don't move, or I'll pull the pen out! He'll bleed out on the spot!" The men abruptly stopped in their tracks. No one dared to move a muscle. At this moment, the man who'd been lying motionless suddenly sprang to life, g*n in hand, and unleashed a hail of b*llets on the stunned th*gs. He moved with such agility that it was clear his injury had only been a ruse. Even the bald man Khloe held hostage collapsed in a bl**dy heap, a bullet having shattered his skull in an instant. Khloe spun her head just in time, avoiding the bl**d splatter. But her clothes and legs weren't so lucky; they were stained with bl**d, sticky and warm. "Ugh!" The sickly, metallic scent hit her, and her stomach churned. She couldn't stop herself from retching, knees buckling as she collapsed sideways. But before she hit the ground, an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her upright. The man's grip was firm, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Feisty little thing, weren't you so badass just a second ago? What happened?" Khloe recoiled, shoving him away, her face twisting in defiance. "Let go of me!" Before she could get another word out, black-clad men suddenly emerged from the shadows, their faces hard, eyes cold. Even the surrounding rooftops showed silhouettes of these men, controlling all sniper points. Each man moved with such deadly precision, and Khloe could tell at a glance that they were all experienced killers. They brandished machine guns and rocket launchers with practiced ease, as though these were everyday items. In a word, they looked like an elite strike force--battle-hardened, lethal. Unexpectedly, one by one, they all started dropping to their knees, as though bowing before a king. Thousands of them bowed in unison. "Awaiting your orders, Mr. Watson," the leader announced reverently. Khloe's breath hitched. "Are you Henrik Watson?" Chapter 3 The Kiss Henrik accepted a handkerchief from his trusted aide, Rhett Foster, wiping the bl**d from his hands with deliberate, almost regal precision. He then removed his mask slowly, revealing a face that could seize anyone's breath. His eyes were dark, magnetic pools, deep enough to pull anyone in. And above his perfectly-shaped lips was a prominent, sculpted nose. His chiseled features conveyed both power and beauty, almost too flawless to belong to any ordinary man. It was the kind of face that could eclipse even the brightest stars in the showbiz. But more than his appearance, it was his aura--commanding, indomitable--that sent shivers down spines. This was a man who held dominion over countless lives. Henrik smiled, a flash of danger glinting in his eyes. "So what if I am?" Khloe's eyes went as wide as saucers. Henrik Watson--that name carried the weight of legend. Henrik had once been a branch member of the Watson family before vanishing into obscurity for ten long years. When he resurfaced, he singlehandedly seized control of the nation's underworld, rendering him a king without rival. In fact, he was so powerful that even the president treaded carefully around him. Khloe's ex-fiance, Eric, was a member of the Watson family, which had ascended from obscurity to supremacy solely thanks to Henrik. By blood, Eric was Henrik's nephew. So, if her marriage to Eric pushed through, Henrik would be her husband's uncle. Khloe's stepsister, Sloane, had maneuvered her into offering herself to Karl Russell. Though Karl held sway in the city, he was nothing against Henrik's underworld might. It was like comparing a lion to a mouse. As the thought struck her, hope flickered within Khloe. If she could gain Henrik's support, she might escape her forced sacrifice, and her mother could be saved. Steadying her breath, she asked tentatively, "Since I just helped you, could I ask you a favor?" Henrik's gaze sharpened, eyes gleaming with intrigue. It was the first time a woman had faced him with such poise, especially after witnessing him kill so many people. Interest piqued, Henrik strode towards Khloe with an almost lazy confidence, each step measured and unhurried. His sculpted fingers pinched her chin, lifting it so she was looking right at him. He held her gaze as he studied her with a trace of amusement in his eyes. His voice, low and rich, sent a chill through the air. "Do you have any idea who you're talking to? Aren't you afraid I'll kill you?" A shiver raced through Khloe's heart. His presence was overwhelming, like a storm cloud closing in, suffocating in its intensity. He was dangerous--merely speaking to him was like playing with fire. But she had nowhere else to turn; Henrik was her only chance. "I have a Ph.D. in chemistry and medicine, along with patents--highly profitable ones. If you help me, I can make you money," she said, voice steady but with a glint of desperation. Henrik shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Money?" he murmured, his fingers brushing her cheek. "Do I look like I lack money?" The scent of bl**d clung faintly to his skin, chilling her even as he remained outwardly gentle. Khloe's guard went up instinctively, her body tensing beneath his touch. "What do you want?" she ventured cautiously. "If it's within my power, I'm willing to exchange anything." A spark flickered in Henrik's dark eyes, something enigmatic and unreadable. He let his gaze drift over her as if considering her offer. "Anything, you say?" All of a sudden, he let out a chilling laugh. "Then I want this." In one swift motion, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. And there, before all his men, he kissed her. Chapter 4 Decisive Action The kiss came unexpectedly. Khloe was caught off guard, unable to respond in time. Henrik's subordinates stood frozen, their eyes wide with disbelief. They had all worked for him for years, and never once had they seen him so close with a woman. Henrik had always been the type to keep his distance from women. In the past, women who approached him either ended up as fish food or were sent to toil in the mines at his orders. What kind of spell had this woman cast? How was it that she managed to make Henrik abandon all his usual rules, and all on their very first meeting? As the crowd remained stunned and puzzled, Khloe's thoughts swirled in chaos, making it impossible to think straight. Henrik's kiss was overwhelming, like a storm crashing down on her, leaving her breathless and dizzy. She found herself trapped in his arms, held so tightly it felt as though she were a flower caught in a violent storm. Yet she was anything but fragile. Once the shock wore off, a surge of anger rose within her. For years, she had endured humiliation, her fall from grace plunging her into the darkest depths. But giving up was never an option; she had always been plotting her revenge. It was only natural that she refused to yield. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss with equal ferocity. After all, what harm could a kiss do? And the man was both devastatingly handsome and of high standing. She would not suffer any losses. She skillfully fought back with her t**gue, refusing to let him dominate her entirely. Instead of pulling back, she met his intensity head-on, taking the lead. What began as a one-sided kiss quickly transformed into a fierce exchange, each of them vying for control, pushing and pulling in a heated battle for dominance. The kiss was fierce and all-consuming, each second more passionate than the last, until they were both gasping for air. When they finally pulled away, their lips were swollen and stained with bl**d, a testament to the intensity of the moment. Henrik let go of Khloe, his hand brushing against the corner of his mouth where her teeth had left their mark. His gaze was intense, locking onto her with a depth that seemed to pierce right through her. Khloe held his stare steadily, not flinching or showing even the slightest sign of discomfort. Her fearless attitude earned her the respect of those watching. It was clear now why Henrik was drawn to her. She was bold, with a courage that couldn't be ignored. She had the audacity to bite Henrik's lips, unafraid of the consequences. Henrik continued to gaze at Khloe, a growing satisfaction building within him. The sting on his lips reminded him sharply of what had just happened. The woman standing before him, with a face as stunning as an angel's, was no delicate flower. She was a thorny rose, and anyone foolish enough to underestimate her would undoubtedly pay the price. But that was exactly what made her so captivating--it was the danger beneath the beauty that drew him in. "Mr. Watson, is everything to your liking?" Khloe asked, breaking the stillness. "Yes, let's go," Henrik replied with a smile. "Now, let's take care of your little issue." ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &9& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65284322-fb_contact-e | Romance Novel | https://www.facebook.com/100083771162998/ | 48,200 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | IMAGE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65284322-fb_contact-enp98_2-1210-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=DD7CCA935D14747F32BAD8249CE29FB361E008F932309AA9 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475066836_2123362831426322_1004129509374042045_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=gD8eJ_tTAjkQ7kNvgGIX-Iq&_nc_oc=AdgztHpXFHVnwFIaJ6Lihd9g_oQqaHrTDJbgMLyRgz4OAVTBhJKB1DB27OBqeXOjeX8Y2XG5V1OIFJ6-j8RhJGHv&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ArcoKsUkSiFpWqROrjk7EqB&oh=00_AYADQH78CuyL6OlYcRzQJn9O25qQJZLROJk1KkCbo5kZPA&oe=67CBDE1F | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Romance Novel | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2025-03-03 12:18 | active | 2772 | 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/ | 375 | 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/t39.35426-6/474901374_627811426357074_8777820420660064566_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Ns2u-YVMp4cQ7kNvgGVliR9&_nc_oc=Adg6VfEc6HdWDLy6oG7xD5HiXWoqUnyiR0cqcD3fmLGuVMhCl0Zm3XNoAqNT2sado_FHFZAOf7jeOaDmAwh59mQc&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AfeOQX5tZOU5vqwZVKY87KW&oh=00_AYC-7xtrTd7LrLBDVOc0ub4LBGLPgHd-pOWzUJJLYet-cg&oe=67CBB238 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉 | "Where is she?" I hear the Beta scream. I groan and rise to my feet, grabbing the cleaning basket before heading over. The moment Beta Kyle sees me, he strides towards me and his hand slices against my cheek. I don't make a sound. Years of experience has taught me to keep my mouth shut at all times. "Alpha Trey and I are expecting company and you still have not cleaned the office." Beta Kyle spits at me. I nod my head and my hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If only I could find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make my day. But I didn't need another week locked up with no food. My stomach already hurt enough. "We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Don't you understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!" I don't answer, It's a trap, a ploy to provoke me into saying something that would justify punishment. I keep my eyes lowered, avoiding his gaze. Alpha Dane, I had only ever heard rumours about him. He was a ruthless man, a Wolf feared by others. He didn't mess around and he had the largest pack. "He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!" We had never been attacked and we had never attacked anyone, so why did we need another pack to help us? He grabs my shoulders, his nails digging into my skin as he turns me around and kicks me into the office. "Useless Wolf." He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean against it, observing the already clean office. It looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing my eyes, I slide down to the floor. I hated this house. I thought that when I turned eighteen, I could finally escape, but four years later, here I still am, a slave in my own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for my brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While my ex mate, Beta Kyle waltzes around reminding me of how worthless I am. Someone clears their throat and I freeze, I thought I was alone. Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair, just around the corner. A foot propped up on his knee as he nurses a glass of alcohol. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don't quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. "Is this the way you greet all Alphas?" His deep voice rumbles through the room, there was an edge of amusement to his tone. "I'm sorry." I whisper, getting to my feet. "I...I thought I was alone." I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. "Come forward." He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey wil kill me. I step around the corner, doing as I'm told, allowing him to see me properly. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. "You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?" I nod, though I couldn't tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. "I would prefer it if you spoke to me." He growls, "I'm not in the mood to play games." "Yes." I whisper. I couldn't help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? "Why do you smell strange? And how is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me." "I..." I hated the question. "You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. It's rude to not look at them. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?" His deep voice sends a shiver through me. Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them, there was no way I was making eye contact."My Wolf abilities were bound," I mutter. Twice, I wanted to add. Twice my abilities were bound. But he probably wasn't interested in that part. He leans forward, I could feel him staring at me, "Why would someone do that?" If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. "It was a punishment." I whisper. It wasn't far from the entire truth. There's a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn't tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me "Neah, what are you doing in my office?" He turns to the crimson eyed man. "I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it's him. My brother spins around, hand poised to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He is taller than my brother, more muscly too. "Neah," My name rolls off of his tongue, "was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested." What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. "Go and get Beta Kyle." Alpha Trey seethes. "Tell him our guest is here." I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. "Beta Kyle," I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. "Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you." He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. "You're lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't see sunlight for a few days." Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn't speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn't last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. "Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating." I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. "Neah is your sister, correct?" Alpha Dane questions my brother. "She is." Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. "Why do you treat her like trash?" Straight to the point, my brother wouldn't like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. "Neah was responsible for our parents' death." Alpha Trey spits I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Responsible how?" Alpha Dane's voice rumbles through me. He was definitely angry. "She served them Wolfsbane." Don't make a sound. Don't make a sound. I knew Alpha Dane was studying me. They all did, no one could ever quite believe how someone could do something so disgusting as poisoning their own parents. I stood there, with my head hanging low, wishing for the ground to open up and suck me in. There are movements around me. He was standing directly in front of me. With a rough finger he tilts my face up towards his, forcing me to look at him. "You poisoned your parents?" "I was six." I splutter. "I just made them lemonade." My voice comes out all squeaky as I try to defend myself. I could barely remember my parents, but I could remember all the guilt I had been made to feel since that day. His crimson eyes flash to my brothers. "Hardly seems fair to blame a six year old." "A six year old should know the difference between plants." Alpha Trey snaps "Sounds to me like she was set up." Alpha Dane shrugs his shoulders, letting go of me. "You weren't there, Alpha Dane." My brother muttered through gritted teeth as his eyes narrowed to slits. "I didn't ask you here to talk about my slave!" Alpha Dane grabs his leather jacket from the chair. Unlike other Alpha's he seemed to dress more casually. A simple black tee and jeans covered his huge frame. And unlike other Alpha's, his arms are bare of tattoos, not a single bit of ink poked out anywhere. "You're right and now I have a few things to mull over." "I thought we agreed." My brother exclaims "Nothing has been signed. Now I will show myself out." The moment he is out of the office, both my brother and Beta Kyle round on me. "What the heck did you say to him?" My brother demands, slamming a hand into my stomach. "N...nothing. Well, he just asked me why I smelled funny." "Did you tell him?" Beta Kyle demands. He was practically spitting in my face. I hated him. I hated him so much that I had vowed to one day get my revenge and rip his stomach out through his mouth. "WELL?" My brother yells when I don't immediately respond and smacks me across the side of the head. My head involuntarily moves up and down. "But I didn't say it was you." I tried to sound strong and confident but it just comes out as a whisper. My brother's hand locks into my black hair as he yanks my head back, sending a shooting pain through my skull. "If you have ruined this, you won't see daylight again." He drags me by my hair from the office and down the hallway towards the basement door. "Please…." I beg. "He was an Alpha…I… I had to answer him." My cheeks burn with my tears as he flings the door open. On the other side of the door is Alpha Dane. He is leaning against the wall with his arms folded, staring out at us. My brother's hand falls from my hair, relieving the pressure on the back of my skull... "Alpha Dane, I thought you had left." Alpha Trey murmurs angrily. "I said I would show myself out. I thought I had found the door, but instead I find a basement, riddled in your sister's strange scent. Is this how you treat your family?" "As I said," my brother holds his ground, "She is responsible for the death of my parents, so yes, this is what she deserves." "You should keep your nose out of other packs' business!" Beta Kyle adds. Alpha Dane laughs. "If I agree to this deal, everything about your business becomes my business. So tell me, what would your punishment be for her? No food, locked away for a week, beatings?" Both Alpha Trey and Beta Kyle hold their tongues. There was no reason for him to defend me and yet he was. I was a nobody, no one special. Just who everyone called a traitor. Only instead of being given a death sentence, my brother had decided to make me spend my life suffering. I see those crimson eyes land on my swollen face. "I have a proposition for you, Alpha Trey." Alpha Dane speaks up again. "We have already agreed on terms." "Well, I'm adding one. And if you don't agree, you will not get my help. Instead, you will become my enemy. And we both know, you don't want that." "I take it that your new terms have something to do with her?" Alpha Trey mutters through clenched teeth. "You would be correct. Let me take her away to my pack and then you, Trey will have a deal." Me? Why would he want me? As my brother and his Beta discuss me, Alpha Dane is still studying me. His look made me nervous. What could someone like him possibly want with me? "Deal." Alpha Trey sticks out his hand for Alpha Dane to shake. He doesn't take it, instead his crimson eyes shift from me to my brother. "I will have paperwork drawn up and will return tomorrow." He reaches a hand out and cups my face, "Ensure you have everything packed." He drags his thumb across my bottom lip and strides to the opposite end of the hallway and straight to the front door. He knew exactly where the front door was, so what was he up to? He pauses at the door. "If I find out any one of you has laid a hand on her. The contract will be the last thing you need to worry about." He struts out, slamming the door behind him. After Dane leaves, my brother grabs me by the collar. "You think you're going to have a good life if you follow Alpha Dane out of here? Don't be naive!" He continues in a vicious voice. "He's the coldest man in the world, he's killed nine of his mates, I'm waiting to see what happens to you!" | LEARN_MORE | https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783& | New world publications | https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/ | 3,809 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | wwwedb.com | IMAGE | At six years old, I accidentally killed my parents. For the punishment I, an alpha female, became a slave in my own house.. My wolf's abilities were bounded, twice—a crippling blow that left me vulnerable. As if I were nothing more than property, my brother sold me to a ruthless alpha as part of ... | https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480268282_659623686420011_5400877540061372508_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=6k2IwXyp9BIQ7kNvgF9uNOC&_nc_oc=AdjPio7lr8HImQUZxpueTIAUuxmT7xpn2LvVSnir3W3xZl7iGVWi_SxFTTAEaIcY5ryOO3sUUYA-3joiYJPWg5I8&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Af1xE6k1hANyVQF-XCLu-5c&oh=00_AYCRyi8dgLFoYqpngkWNqaHFEdOBpLiJPanvlG-rmpcC3Q&oe=67CBC860 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | New world publications | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-03-03 12:18 | active | 2772 | 0 | Overcome Procrastination Naturally | Overcoming procrastination doesn’t have to be hard! Created by a team of psychologists and behavioral change experts, Brainway is designed to: 1️⃣ Identify your unique “Procrastination Type” 2️⃣ Reveal the unique “Trigger Point” that makes you procrastinate 3️⃣ Provide personalized, simple, and effective strategies to help you stop putting things off 🏆 And let you join thousands of people enjoying 100% stress-free productivity with Brainway! 🔥 Take a short quiz and see how Brainway can help you break free from procrastination & embrace your natural productivity today!👇 | LEARN_MORE | https://brainway.app/start?qz=pro1&locale=EN_US | Brainway App | https://www.facebook.com/61551442591062/ | 23,451 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | brainway.app | VIDEO | https://brainway.app/start?qz=pro1&locale=EN_US | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465652985_2889717947905498_1236983899593885925_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=mjk5ch0S4egQ7kNvgHHtIuz&_nc_oc=AdhOtxVVXdJ03EMIMPHZSeC9MW0_iG_X0Pq9JJ0B8_AuM9TsFq3qyV3jRrY3z-_Npq4WbpYRTAtuJyBPjIcznSx0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AkJLHbifyOqNEZ1HHPZjcjl&oh=00_AYDkkmqC-D_8q9EzTKOLVWqMjikYt76YK9QvPNj3qPmGLQ&oe=67CBCABC | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Brainway App | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-03-03 12:18 | active | 2772 | 0 | 🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉 | "Are... are you sure, Esther?" I ask with a broken voice. My heart races, filled with happiness. "Very sure, Luna. You're carrying a little wolf!" "Why haven't I been able to smell it, or his father?" I ask, worried. "It's very recent, perhaps that's why. Give it a few more days and you should be able to sense the pheromones." She replies, and I nod, my eyes blurred with tears. I am the Luna of the "Autumn Forest" pack. Three years ago, I married the man I love madly, despite not being destined mates, my Alpha Dorian. I've given everything to be the perfect Luna, the pillar he can lean on. However, a shadow looms over my marriage—the topic of an heir. I've never been able to get pregnant, and I admit I don't share the bed with Dorian as often. But I know his duties as Alpha keep him extremely busy and stressed. "Please, don't tell anyone in the pack. I want to surprise my husband." "Don't worry, Luna, I won't say anything. Congratulations!" She smiles at me, and I return the smile, overflowing with excitement and happiness. Despite being a foreigner, not originally belonging to this pack, ever since my parents died and the previous Alpha took me in, I've never felt rejected or looked down upon. That's why I've devoted myself fully to my duties as Luna. I'm grateful for my life and the wonderful man I'm married to. ***** "What's with all this food? Is there going to be a party?" "Hands off!" I swat away the greedy claws of Sophia, my best friend, who sneaked in through the back kitchen door. "But wow, puff pastry tart and everything!" she says, sitting on a stool. Honestly, I may have gone a bit overboard with the dishes, but I'm so happy I want everything to be perfect. All my Alpha's favorite foods are ready! "Well, today is Dorian's and my anniversary. I want to celebrate with an intimate dinner," I say, turning back to the caramel on the stove. I don't hear her respond, so I turn halfway, curious. "What's wrong?" "N-nothing, nothing... I just heard the Alpha had an emergency today. Didn't he tell you?" she asks, and I frown. Actually, Dorian doesn't usually explain much about his work. I guess it's to avoid worrying me. "No, but he'll come back anyway. He knows today is special." I respond, completely convinced. She looks at me strangely. Lately, I can't quite understand her, but she's the first person who approached me in this pack and has always supported me. I value her greatly as a friend. "Sophie, there's something I want to tell you, but... I'll tell you tomorrow. It's very important to me," I say suddenly, wanting to share the good news with her, but not before confessing it to Dorian. "Really? Can't you tell me now?" she asks, gossip-mode activated, leaning over the counter while munching on a homemade cookie. "No, no. Tomorrow. I promise you'll be the second to know," I reply, and I can feel my happiness radiating from every pore. "Fine, I'll leave you with your mystery then. I've got things to do. Happy anniversary," she grumbles, frustrated I didn't spill the secret, and leaves the same way she came. I check the clock. There's still time. I take off my apron and head to the second floor to shower and get dressed nicely. Everything has to be perfect tonight, celebrating with my beloved mate. ***** I glance at the clock for the thousandth time, sitting on the sofa. It's past midnight, and Dorian hasn't arrived. I look at the cold dishes on the dining table and get up, resigned to reheating them again. I'm in the middle of that task when I hear the front door open and close. His delicious scent tingles my nose, warming my stomach. I glance at my burgundy dress, smoothing it out and fixing my hair in the hallway mirror. My jet-black hair is tied in a high ponytail, and my intensely blue eyes, highlighted with makeup, stare back at me. I step into the foyer, watching my imposing Alpha enter the door. "My love, how was your day? Lots of work, right?" I grab the coat he's holding to hang it up. I see him clutching some documents, but I assume they're pack matters. I move closer to kiss him, but he steps back. "I'm sweaty and dirty from the road. Don't contaminate yourself," he says, his piercing honey eyes staring at me—eyes I adore despite their constant coldness. It's just part of his nature. He carries too many responsibilities after inheriting the role so young when his father died. His blond hair is messily handsome, and for some reason, damp. I can even catch the scent of an unfamiliar shower gel. Why would he shower before coming home? And he said he was dirty, yet it's clear he just bathed. "S-sure, give me a second to reheat dinner. You must be hungry..." "I'm not hungry. Valeria, we need to talk." "But the dinner—" "Forget dinner. Let's go to the living room. I need to tell you something," his authoritative voice makes me tense. I follow him, starting to feel deeply worried. My hand slips into my skirt pocket, clutching the folded document stating I'm having his baby. "Why was the table so full of dishes? Were you planning a party?" he asks, glancing at the dining room. My heart clenches. "Love, I know you've been busy with pack duties. But... don't tell me you forgot our anniversary? Today marks three years since we mated," I say, sitting on the couch. I expect him to sit beside me, but instead, he chooses the armchair opposite. Dorian has never been overly affectionate, but tonight he's too distant. Too cold. An alarm goes off inside me. "Of course, I remembered. You have no idea how long I've been waiting for our third anniversary," he replies, but I don't see a trace of joy in his expression. I know everything will change with my news. Our relationship hasn't been great because of this. The pack elders keep pressuring him for an heir. When I tell him about the baby, he'll be happy. "I'll be quick because I can't stand this any—" "Wait! Wait, Dorian. Let me show you something first, and then you can tell me what you wanted to say," I interrupt him, feeling a strong premonition, I won't like his next words. Lowering my head, I take out the folded paper and hand it to him, my heart racing with emotion. He takes it, reading silently as I watch him, anxious, waiting for his joy to match mine. "I'm pregnant! I'm carrying your pup! We'll have an heir for the pack. I'm sure the Goddess has blessed us with a son!" I can't hold back and blurt it out directly. Tears in my eyes, I rise and move toward him, wanting to embrace him. But as in love as I am, even I can see this isn't the reaction I expected from the father of my child. "Are you sure about this, or is it just a trick to keep me tied to you?" he suddenly says, rising and pushing me away when I try to hug him. "Dorian... Of course, I'm sure. Look, that's the midwife's handwriting. Why would I lie about something so important? My love, what's wrong? What's happening, my Alpha?" "No, no. Damn it!" I watch him pace like a caged wolf around the living room. "This can't be happening. Not now!" "Dorian..." "Did you tell my mother? Anyone else?!" he asks suddenly, approaching me and gripping my shoulders tightly. "N-no, love. I was waiting to tell you first. I thought... you'd be happy. I know they've been pressuring you. Alpha, you don't have to be tense anymore. We'll have our family." I raise a trembling hand to caress his cheek, but he just stares at me with those golden eyes, silent. I can't figure out what's going on in his head. "You're right... I've been very stressed. I'm sorry," he suddenly pulls me into his arms, and I finally sigh, relieved, hugging him back tenderly. For a second, I feared he wasn't happy. "We'll get through this together, my Alpha. I'll be the perfect Luna so no one will judge you," I whisper, lifting my head. I want him to kiss me, to make love to me like we haven't in a long time. "Let's go for a run. A wild, unrestricted anniversary night." He suddenly suggests it, taking my hand and pulling me toward the back of our house, which borders the pack's forest. "Shift into your she-wolf," he commands, and I watch him undressing. He's so charming and strong. His hair glows under the moonlight, and I begin the transformation into my "she-wolf," one of the greatest lies and secrets of my life—something not even Dorian knows. ***** We run freely across the pack's lands. But I notice how we keep going farther and farther, even crossing the borders, yet I just follow Dorian's massive white wolf racing wildly ahead of me. We reach a remote place, at the edge of a deep cliff, but above us, the moon shines intensely, and the forest landscape stretches far below. "Where is this? We're outside our pack's territory... Aren't we trespassing on someone's land?" I gaze into the distance from the edge, mesmerized by the view, having already shifted back into human form, but no one responds. I feel uneasy and start to turn around. However, something inside me stirs with alarm. A crow caws in the distance—but it's already too late. "Do... Dorian, wha—?! Aaaaaahhh!" I scream as I feel wolf claws tearing into my abdomen, deeply ripping through me. Terrified and shocked by the sudden attack, I try to run. I attempt to shift back into my wolf to escape into the forest, away from whatever is happening, away from this rabid Alpha wolf whose blood-red eyes glare at me with pure hatred—but it's impossible to flee. "Ahhh! Let me go! Dorian, what are you doing?! What are you doing?! Ahhh! Help! Help!" I scream as he jumps on me when I try to escape. C2 THE WORST BETRAYAL VALERIA He bites my thigh viciously and drags me beneath his body, controlling me mercilessly. I try to resist, to call for help, my hands clutching my stomach, trying to protect my pup, but his claws, like deadly weapons, pierce my skin, tearing apart my small, vulnerable body. I have to raise my arms instinctively when his sharp claws aim for my face, and I scream in agony as a deep wound slices across my cheek from my forehead. Leaving my belly exposed, he struck our child. "Nooo, not the pup, please, Dorian, not our son!" Tears poured endlessly from my eyes as I begged him, but his canines tore through my flesh, and his claws dug into the depths of my insides with chilling cruelty, seeking to rip out the life growing inside me. I don’t know how long this agony lasted—I sobbed, pleading as long as I could speak. The pain in my entire body was unbearable, but worse was the pain in my soul, bleeding and shattered. I was discarded on the ground like trash, on the edge of a precipice, my consciousness nearly slipping away from the pain when I saw him shift into his human form. "You thought you could keep me tied to you forever?" he yelled furiously. His eyes were cold and disgusted, a look I had never seen before. "Did you really think I loved you, that I was dying to have a child with you? What a waste!" He kicked me with rage, but I no longer had the strength to even moan in pain. "Three damn years I've been separated from my mate because of you!" he roared, pouring out all the hatred he'd stored up over time. "Why…?" I barely managed to whisper, my face swollen, my tongue heavy, and my throat bleeding from a deep wound. "Because you came to the pack, the miserable orphan, and that old lady said you would give birth to the strongest Alphas, powerful enough to elevate my bloodline." "Pure nonsense from that crazy old hag, but my mother believed her and forced me to give up my mate for you because you were infatuated with me! She gave me three damn years—that was our deal. If you didn’t succeed, I’d be free." "So, today I come, ready to rid myself of an obstacle like you, and you say that you’re carrying my son," he laughed like a psychopath. "I won’t let you do it again, Valeria. You won't ruin my life again. This is the end for you!" He walked toward me, and I saw death staring me in the face. I wanted to say so many things... «I didn't know you already loved someone else. I was just a foolish, infatuated girl, but I never forced you to love me back. How could you deceive me, fake everything all this time? Our child… how could you… how could you do this…?!» I felt so powerless as I lay there, sobbing, bloody, and dying. I wished I could connect with his wolf, scream out this injustice, but I couldn’t—not even that. I didn’t have an inner she-wolf. I could only shift my body and pretend. Some said it was trauma from my adoptive parents’ violent death, where only I survived. Others claimed it was a curse, but I knew that wasn't true. I had never felt the presence of a wolf spirit within me. "Goodbye, dear wife. You don't seem so special after all," he said cynically, and with his foot, he kicked me over the cliff's edge. The last thing I knew was the sensation of falling into the cold void. I looked up at the dark sky as shadows of crows circled above my head, like messengers of death. "I'm so sorry, baby. I couldn't protect you." ***** "Why aren't her wounds healing properly?" "I can't waste the pack's blood on a stranger. Jake already did too much rescuing her from the rogue woods. She has to heal on her own." "Honestly, I don't even know how this woman is still alive. Poor thing… her body is horribly damaged, especially her belly… and her face." I heard voices talking nearby, hands examining me. An unbearable pain worse than death itself burned through my body, dragging me between consciousness and darkness. I don’t know how much time passed or where I was, but when I opened my eyes, I saw a white ceiling. I looked around and saw a small room, lying on a personal bed. "You're awake?" a female voice spoke suddenly beside me, and I saw an unfamiliar face. I tried to speak, but for some reason, I couldn't—it was as if my vocal cords refused to work. "Don't strain yourself. Stay calm. You… I don't think you can talk right now because of the wound on your neck," she explained with a troubled expression. And then, my foggy mind remembered—everything. The first thing I did was reach for my belly, trying to sit up despite the dizziness and searing pain. "Don't move! Wait, calm down, calm down!" she stopped me and eased me back down, but I needed to know—desperately—I had to know if a miracle had occurred. I looked at her intensely and then at my stomach, wrapped in thick bandages. "Yes… I understand what you're asking, but… I'm sorry… your belly was completely torn. Your womb was destroyed, and your pup… didn't make it. It was impossible to save him. We don't even know how you're still alive." I felt the tears pouring uncontrollably from my eyes. I closed them in pure agony, my soul shattering. My lips trembled, my entire body shook, and ragged sobs escaped my torn throat. Why did this have to happen to me? Why did everything around me have to turn into a nightmare? My baby, my pup was innocent. Why did something so horrible have to happen to him? "Calm down, please! You can't get like this! Aston, I need you here! Bring the sedative! Now, Aston, hurry!" "Aaaahh! Aaaahh!" I heard distorted screams, a cry so raw it could freeze the blood and shatter hearts. A desperate, broken woman wailed—and then I realized… it was me. That wretched woman who had lost everything… was me. ***** Days have passed. I know a man rescued me from the forest beneath the cliff. I'm staying in a small pack not far from Autumn Forest. With my hands still covered in wounds, I try to splash water on my face, but I can't even bear to touch my skin. I lift my head, and as I do every time that I face a mirror, I have to summon all my courage. My face, once beautiful and envied by many she-wolves, now bears a horrific scar running across my forehead and another deep one on my left cheek. Dorian not only destroyed my child's life, my womb, but he also scarred my face. It should have healed, but I know it won't. I don't possess the rapid healing ability of werewolves. Yes, I heal—but slower, and scars remain. I step outside the small room and hear the healer and the she-wolf who treated me speaking quietly. They're discussing how I've used too many resources and how they may have to ask me to leave soon since packs rarely welcome outsiders so easily. But the she-wolf argues that I’m still in terrible condition. I appreciate her care and empathy, but it won't be necessary to cast me out. I've already decided—I’ll leave tonight on my own. ***** Hours later, I walk through the dark forest like a lost soul, the damp bandages soaked with reopened wounds, bleeding. I don't care—my legs keep moving in a single direction. Hiding in the bushes, I watch the patrol line carefully. I know exactly how to slip past without being detected—I designed this defense rotation myself for Dorian. Like so many things I did for him and the pack. I slip away into the shadows, as quickly as my battered body allows. The night and darkness are my allies. It's as if they amplify my strange abilities. I hear voices, laughter, and lights in the distance—from the backyard of what had been my home for three long years. I walk as if in slow motion, wearing old sneakers and a worn-out dress that the she-wolf from the hospital gave me. "Ladies and gentlemen, I've gathered you all here today because I could no longer hide my happiness. I’m finally marrying my beloved mate, the woman of my life, my sweet Sophia, your future Luna." I feel like I'm falling into a cavern of ice as I watch them, smiling and kissing in front of those who once called me Luna. It was my "best friend" Sophia and my traitorous Alpha Dorian, celebrating their union while my body should have been rotting beneath that cliff if their plan had worked. Traitorous hypocrite! That woman was even wearing one of my evening dresses, made up with my things, stealing my life without a trace of remorse. She had deceived me all this time, just as I had been blind to everyone in this pack, and worse, to the man who lay beside me every night while thinking of another woman. Even the midwife who told me about my pregnancy was there! Dorian must have promised her something to keep her silent. I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms, my teeth chattering with rage. I waited, waited like the deranged psychopath I had become, watching their entire celebration until the lights went out and everyone left for their homes. ***** I climbed the stairs to the second floor, walked down the dimly lit hallway, but I could hear them perfectly—making love in the master bedroom. Her feminine moans slipped through the crack of the slightly open door. I saw myself pushing it open gently. The moonlight streamed in through the large window, illuminating that figure riding Dorian, her back facing the entrance. "Alpha, tell me I'm better than her… Mmm… Come on, Dorian, tell me I'm better than that frigid Valeria." "You're the best, baby… don't even compare yourself to that stiff. Do me in her bed, come on… wasn't that what you always wanted?" Their filthy words hit my ears, and it was the final trigger I needed for everything to spiral out of control in an instant. I lunged at them on the bed. C3 THE OWNER OF THE CASTLE VALERIA I hear piercing screams, the sound of shattering glass, a savage roar, an Alpha's growls, struggling, and fighting. Something hot splashes against my face and arms. My claws shred, and my canines teared. I can't stop. I can't. Rage consumes me from the inside, demanding release. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm not conscious of myself. All I know is that when I regain control of my body, the first thing I see is my red hands. I'm kneeling on the floor, everything around me drenched in red, wreckage, and pieces of what once was a powerful Alpha—Dorian. What have I done? What in the name of the Goddess have I done?! I stare at his severed head, lying just a meter away from me. Those honey-colored eyes still stare back at me in frozen terror, and I feel bile rising in my throat. I vomit to the side, unable to hold it back, disgusted by this scene of death and violence. Did I do all this? There's no one else here. I scan the area, not knowing where Sophia went. The only thing I'm sure of is that someone was thrown through the shattered glass window. I stand up on trembling legs, glance down, but all I see is the forest behind the house and bloodstains across the grass. "Don't let her escape! Sophia, stop crying and tell me clearly what happened!" Voices shouted, hurried footsteps ascending the stairs. It was my mother-in-law's voice. I had to get out of here. I had killed the Alpha, and only a painful death awaited me. Desperately, I looked down. It seemed I had thrown that wretch Sophia out the window. I decided to jump out myself, from the second floor. BAM! The door burst open during my hesitation, and my eyes locked with Anaís, my mother-in-law, the former Luna—Dorian's mother. I saw the shock, the pain, and the fury in her eyes as she took in the scene. "You miserable! You killed my son! You murdered my Dorian! Seize her! Restrain her! I'm going to tear her apart with my bare hands!" She screamed, and the warriors behind her charged at me. I jumped without thinking. "Aaagghhh!" I groaned in pain as I crashed onto the grass, rolling over, but I forced my body to shift into my wolf form and ran with all the strength I had left. I fled into the forest as fast as my weakened legs allowed, escaping death. I don't know if it was adrenaline or sheer will to live, but I ran like a madwoman through unfamiliar lands and tangled woods. Days passed that way, where I only stopped to rest when I was on the verge of collapse, drinking water from mountain streams and feeding on prey that somehow appeared dead before me. Yes, yet another strange thing about my life. The few times I dared to close my eyes, every time I woke up, a small dead animal lay in front of my muzzle. I devoured them without knowing if they were poisonous or where they came from—I just needed energy. All I could think about was surviving. One night, I felt them again. I thought they had grown tired of chasing my trail, but that wasn’t the case. The sound of multiple wolves' footsteps echoed not far away. Desperation and exhaustion consumed me—I couldn't keep running forever. I had been skirting the borders of various packs, trying not to get caught, but that wasn't a solution. "She's just ahead! I can smell her! She will pay for this!" I heard a snarl—already so close to my trail. I could practically feel the danger breathing down my neck as I pushed my legs and lungs past their limit. I was done. They were going to catch me after all this effort. Then I lifted my blue eyes and saw them—above me, a flock of crows. Cawing, circling over my wolf form, as if trying to lead me somewhere. And for some reason, I followed them. I followed their sign and ventured deeper into unfamiliar lands—into the forbidden forest where no one dared enter without an invitation. But I had nothing left to lose. If I was going to die, at least let it be quick and without torture. That's how I crossed through the mist, leading me to the Golden Moon pack, the territory guarded by the Guardians—the land ruled by the Lycan King. ***** I felt like no one was following me anymore. I had no idea how far I had gone into Golden Moon territory, but suddenly, several powerful warriors blocked my path, surrounding me. "Who are you, and why have you trespassed into our pack?" a massive gray wolf asked coldly, approaching me menacingly. The black wolf I shifted into, so small and fragile, would be considered an Omega—the lowest rank in the pack, the weakest, often reduced to servitude. That was why, when I became Luna, I had felt foolishly grateful to Dorian. "I'm only seeking refuge to rest… I’m sorry for entering your forest. Just a few days, please… I only need a few days to recover and leave." I pleaded, praying my pursuers wouldn't dare follow me here. "Where do you come from? Speak! Why did you cross the Forbidden Forest? No one comes here for no reason! Tell the truth, or I'll rip your head off right now!" He growled, shoving me with his shoulder. I let out a low whimper of pain, unable to resist. Before he could take further action or carry out his threats, darkness consumed my vision, and I felt my body collapse unconscious to the ground. Maybe this time, I wouldn't wake up again. ***** The next time I opened my eyes, I was in a dark, damp cell, wearing tattered clothes barely covering my battered human body. Only the Goddess knows how I'm still alive. It seems she wants me to suffer—slowly and torturously. BAM! The sound of a metal door slamming jolted me. "So, you're finally awake! Take her out!" A massive, bald, intimidating man ordered two guards, who dragged me out. It was that gray wolf. I didn’t even have the strength to walk, let alone resist. They took me to a small room where the questioning began—trying to dominate me with his Alpha presence. But it didn’t work. I had no inner wolf to submit. I spent hours there, sitting on a hard chair, my hands tied behind me with ropes cutting into my skin. No matter how much freezing water they threw at me, how much they shouted or threatened, I kept my story and waited to die. My head hung limply, eyes closed, exhausted. At least they hadn’t beaten me or done worse. I've heard horrible stories about this pack of barbarians. "Fine. Since you refuse to talk, you know what awaits you. I've given you the chance to confess." His dark eyes locked on mine, giving me his final warning, but I had nothing more to say. He drew a dagger, yanked my hair back, exposing my neck, ready to slit my throat. I saw hesitation in his eyes when my black hair fell away, revealing my hideous scars. Maybe I looked pitiful—but he had a job to do. And I was ready for it to end. The dagger lowered, and I resigned myself. But a knock on the door interrupted my death once again, sending my emotions from one extreme to the other. "Now what the hell…? M-Madam… I mean, Housekeeper, what brings you here?" His previously harsh voice turned nearly submissive. Curious, I looked toward the door and saw a short woman with blonde hair tied up neatly, elegant yet stern. "What were you doing here?" Her cold green eyes fixed on mine, and I lowered my head. "She’s an intruder. Pack business—" "You were going to kill her, weren’t you?" she accused. "M-Madam, can we discuss this outside? It's protocol with intruders—" I heard his words stop short as a pair of black boots entered the room, standing right before me. "What's your name, girl?" "Valeria," I whispered weakly. "Look at me when I speak to you!" she ordered, and I lifted my head. She has a superior, imposing aura, and honestly, I think she's more terrifying than the massive brute. "Tell me, Valeria, do you want to live or die? You can survive if you agree to work for me. If not, pretend you never saw me," she offered, leaving me stunned. "W-what kind of work would it be?" "Work for the Guardians, in the castle kitchen or wherever you're needed—as a maid. I offer you shelter and food in exchange, a new chance to live," she said without breaking eye contact. I hesitated, feeling like I was selling my soul to another ruthless ruler. The Guardians were the Lycans, and the worst of them all was their leader, Aldric, the "Specter Slayer," whom all werewolves considered their king, though he didn’t seem to care about the title. "I don't have all day. Are you coming or not?" she pressed. "Housekeeper, this woman is a stranger… how can she enter the castle with the Guardians? We don't know her intentions—" "I don't care why you entered these cursed lands. Your past stays behind if you accept my offer. But if you betray me or plot anything behind my back, slitting your throat will be the least of my punishments," the woman threatened, leaving me with only a second to decide. Live or die. Start anew in a strange place, possibly filled with more humiliation and suffering—or die now and end my miserable existence. "I'll go with you. I accept the job," I finally chose to survive. ***** The Golden Moon pack was located in a valley, surrounded by dense forest with thick fog, and perched atop a hill in the distance was an imposing ancient stone castle. We traveled there in a carriage, rolling along cobblestone streets. This pack was massive, far more powerful than my former one. I remained silent the entire way, my black hair always hiding the scars on my face, my head bowed, not wanting to draw attention. The enormous ebony doors opened, carved stone walls rising tall and powerful, with strange statues perched on the dark eaves. At last, we arrived at an inner courtyard, and I stepped down from the carriage with some discomfort. I stared at the looming castle, half-shrouded in mist, more nightmarish than inviting. "Come. I'll give you your uniform and show you your room," she ordered, and I followed her inside. The moment we crossed the entrance, we were greeted by a massive hall. A chandelier filled with candles hung in the center, illuminating the spiraling staircases that seemed to stretch endlessly upward. I was distracted for a moment, staring at the glossy black-and-white marble floor, when something seemed to fall from the ceiling. BAM! I stumbled back, startled, barely containing a scream of pure panic as a woman's corpse crashed at my feet. She was headless, and blood still gushed from her severed neck, staining the entire floor—and even my legs. The head rolled down next; lifeless eyes frozen in a horrified expression. I looked up, trembling, and at the top of the stairs, a pair of gray, lupine, savage eyes stared back at me for a few seconds, chilling my blood to the core. C4 TAKING OUT THEIR LOVERS VALERIA His entire demeanor screamed, I'm the damn master of everything here, the absolute ruler. I immediately lowered my head, trembling. It didn’t matter that I lacked an inner she-wolf— the power radiating from that man felt like it could suffocate you, crush your soul, and he wasn't even standing that close to me. He was a Lycan, the superior species of werewolves, the ultimate evolution, and I was almost certain this was the most powerful of them all—Aldric Thorne, the Lycan King. "Sasha, take out the trash and make sure my next personal maid isn’t a scheming one, or she'll lose more than her head," his deep, cold, and intimidating voice echoed, followed by the sound of footsteps retreating. "This is a disaster. That's the fifth one in two months. I don’t know what goes through these girls' heads. I warned them," the housekeeper muttered as she approached, pulling a small vial from the dead woman’s hand. "Another one who tried to please the King thinking she could be different and rise. Brainless. I'll call a servant to take her away. And your first task begins now—clean up this mess." And so, my work in the Lycan King's castle began. The first lesson I learned: never, ever try to mess with that dangerous man, or you'll end up headless. Unfortunately, I soon found myself on the razor's edge again. ***** Sasha introduced me to the staff, a group of she-wolves and wolves working in the castle, attending to the Guardians. They all stared at me as if they were looking at a monster. I didn’t care—I just wanted to keep existing and stay invisible. "The Guardians"—that’s what they called the five Lycans who lived in this ancient, dark castle. They enforced the laws of our world, or at least those affecting werewolves, maintaining balance with other supernatural creatures. They delivered justice, protection, and punishment—often in the most brutal, merciless ways. Especially the Lycan King. At least, that's what I had always heard. I was forbidden from climbing the stairs or wandering beyond the service quarters. And honestly, I didn’t plan to try. I focused on working and healing with the medicine the housekeeper gave me. The food here was good too. Except for the first day, I had gone three days without seeing any of the other Guardians. Until this morning. ***** "Hey, I heard the housekeeper saying she still hasn’t found a suitable candidate for the King's maid. Maybe she'll give us a chance." I was scrubbing the floor on my knees, listening to the whispers echoing through the castle's massive kitchen. My head stayed down, and my long black bangs nearly covered my eyes, helping to conceal the disfigurement on my face. My hands kept moving the cloth over the tiles, but ignoring the gossip was impossible. Suddenly, the room went silent. Heels echoed from the hallway, and tension filled the air— it was the housekeeper. "Stop what you're doing. I want all of you in a line," she ordered, her voice sharp. The cooks, maids, and even me—the lowly cleaner—all lined up like prisoners, standing side by side. She began her inspection, passing each trembling figure, heads bowed low. When her shadow passed in front of me, I thought she would move on. She didn’t. "What was your name again?" she asked. "Valeria, ma'am," I replied softly. Her cold finger pressed beneath my chin, forcing me to raise my head. My blue eyes met her intimidating green gaze. "Good. I think I'll try a different strategy this time. Come with me," she ordered, and a sense of dread twisted in my chest. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the stares from the other women in the line. Bitter glares filled with jealousy, anger, envy. Nothing good. That much was certain. "Listen carefully, Valeria. You're going to be King Aldric's personal maid," she dropped the bombshell casually, as if it were nothing, walking toward the other side of the kitchen. "Do you know how to cook, iron, organize a man’s things, his clothes, and so on?" "Y-yes, ma'am. But… I don’t think I'm the right choice for the position. Perhaps someone more—" "It's not optional," she cut me off, turning abruptly. "You either accept it, or you leave. I don't need a floor cleaner right now. I need a maid for the King. Understood?" I had no choice but to nod. Sometimes, I forgot that this harsh woman had saved my life. Though, honestly, I still didn’t know why—especially now that she was sending me straight into the Lycan's den. "Memorize everything I'm about to say. The King wakes up at… He doesn’t like… Prefers it this way… And his meals are only prepared by the cook from this section. Make sure it’s always her… And you must taste it before serving him." She paced through the kitchen, the laundry area, practically the entire service zone, listing the King's preferences and dislikes. I followed, my brain nearly short-circuiting from the overwhelming information. I need to write all this down later! "Alright. You'll deliver his first breakfast now. Do exactly as I tell you,” she said, placing a silver tray full of covered dishes in my hands. "And Valeria… remember, head down. Stay invisible. You're nothing but a piece of furniture." "And I trust you haven't forgotten the scene from your first day here. If you try anything against the King, believe me, he was merciful with that woman." Her warning made me swallow hard as I nodded. I didn’t consider myself a coward, but it felt like I was marching straight to the gallows as I climbed the forbidden stairs, moving through the dim candlelit corridors leading to the Guardian leader's quarters. I reached the only door in this wing—an enormous wooden door with intricate carvings—and tried to recall every instruction. "Don't knock at this hour. Go straight inside." So, I did. Balancing the tray carefully, I twisted the heavy doorknob. Step by step, I entered the den of the big bad wolf, avoiding unnecessary glances around. I immediately noticed the large wooden table at the center, the dim lighting, and I focused on setting the breakfast properly. But then I heard it—and smelled it. The scent of lust. Through my bangs, I glanced toward a black door, slightly ajar. Muffled female moans seeped through, despite being closed. More than one woman’s voice. The rhythmic sound of something hitting a wall echoed. Maybe the bed—I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. The most important rule: head down, stay invisible. Don't speak. Don't look. Don't listen. I was so focused on remembering every detail of his preferences, circling the table, that I didn’t even notice when the sounds stopped. "Who are you?" a dominant voice behind me made me flinch. My trembling fists tightened, and I turned, staring down at the gray rug. "Your Majesty, my name is Valeria. I am your new maid," I managed without stuttering. A massive shadow loomed over me, every instinct screaming danger, run—but I stood firm as he placed a finger beneath my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. I expected disgust at my scarred face. Instead, I saw fierce, intimidating gray eyes studying me—so captivating they resembled lethal steel. "Where's your inner wolf?" he asked, frowning. How had he noticed with just one glance? "I… I’m not entirely sure, sir. I suffered a traumatic experience before I turned eighteen, and her spirit never appeared. But… I can shift into my wolf form. Others say it's a curse." I added quickly, half-expecting to be dismissed on my first day. Scarred, cursed—what a perfect maid. "Is that why your face hasn't healed?" he asked, his voice calm but piercing. "I suppose so, sir. My healing is… slower than others." He said nothing, but his intense scrutiny made my skin crawl. Did I say the wrong thing? I avoided lingering on his rugged features, but it was becoming clear why so many women risked losing their heads just for a night in his bed. Aldric Thorne was a man built for sin. A towering figure, nearly two meters tall, with a powerful, scarred body, bold and commanding. Muscular, rough, impossibly attractive. And despite his icy aura, his long shoulder-length hair was deep crimson, just like his short beard—like fire, like blood he could spill without flinching. "I don't care about your peculiarities, but I do expect you to have understood the rules clearly because I won't tolerate disobedience or tricks," he warned me, his voice dangerously low and guttural. I nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes, your maje—" "And call me Sir. I don't like that Your Majesty nonsense," he clarified, finally releasing me and walking toward the other side of the room. I exhaled, realizing I had been holding my breath the entire time. Yet, I could still catch that scent lingering from his skin, something like aged wine—rich, and intoxicating. Could it be some cologne? I couldn't detect the pheromones of werewolves like others could. "They'll be here soon to collect those women. Make sure they leave and clean up everything," he ordered without even sparing me a glance, then disappeared through a door leading to what seemed like another room. I remained standing there in the dim light, frozen for a moment. Then, clenching my fists, I gathered my resolve and moved to deal with his lovers still in bed. I opened the door and stared in shock at the chaotic scene inside. The room was dimly lit, clothes strewn across the floor, and in the center, three women lay sprawled. The heavy scent filled the air, making it hard to breathe. "Umm… ladies, it's time to leave," I said softly, but none of them reacted, their eyes shut as if completely oblivious. They looked exhausted, their bodies marked with bites, bruises, and a mess of fluids staining their thighs. "The King ordered you to leave. You need to—" "Shut up, you annoying brat!" snarled the blonde lying in the middle of the two brunettes, even throwing a pillow at me, which I narrowly dodged. Well, they still have some energy left, it seems. Okay, this wasn’t going as smoothly as I had imagined, and they were already settling back down as if planning to sleep there. Aren't they uncomfortable covered in all that… stuff? But I couldn't fail my first task. I knew he had done this on purpose—to test me. I headed to the bathroom, filled a basin with cold water, and placed it near the bed. Rolling up my sleeves, exposing my pale arms, I then walked over to the massive crimson curtains, grabbed the heavy fabric, and yanked them open with force. "Aaaahh! Close it, right now! Close the curtain!" they screeched like the possessed, even though the sky was overcast. The sun never really shone brightly here—this land was always cloaked in thick fog. Grabbing the basin, I lifted it and—splash! —drenched them in icy water to snap them out of it. "Have you lost your damn mind, maid?!" C5 THE KING'S MAID VALERIA "Aahh, it’s horrible, she’s deformed!" "You’re just jealous, that’s why you want to keep us away from the King!" "The Lord has said you must leave now," I repeated impassively, while they hurled insults at me. But I felt nothing—not cold, not heat. I thought about how to get them out since, weakened or not, there were three of them and only one of me. Just then, loud knocks echoed from the side door leading to the hallway, a door I hadn’t even noticed before. It had to be the person sent to remove them from the castle. I walked over and opened it, revealing two sturdy servants who entered without a word. The women began to resist, screaming that their bodies were only for the King, threatening that our heads would roll. I didn’t need to be here long to see through their lies. That man had used them like disposable objects and was now discarding them like trash. The blonde rushed toward the door leading to the dining hall, but I stepped in front of her, standing firm and blocking her way. "Have some dignity and leave already. The King has ordered it. Don’t risk dying." "I want him to tell me himself! Last night, he showed me otherwise! Get out of my way!" she lunged at me, baring her fangs. I defended myself, grabbing her arms mid-air as we struggled. Her long claws scratched me in her fury, and I knew I could control her because, right now, she was weak. This she-wolf was stronger than me—honestly, anyone was stronger than me. With the help of the servants, we managed to drag the last crazed woman out of the room. I shut the door, breathing heavily. "Quite the first day on the job," I muttered in resignation, staring at the disaster I now had to clean. ***** I wiped the sweat from my forehead, taking a moment to catch my breath, surveying the nearly tidy room. The worst part was the bed. Even after removing the dirty sheets, I had gone overboard with the water. So, I thought of pushing the mattress closer to the window to let it air out and catch some sun. "Mmnn," I grunted, yanking at the heavy king-size mattress, my hands trembling. I doubted I could move it. I kept struggling when— "How many centuries does it take you to organize a room?" His voice startled me—I hadn’t heard him enter. I turned to apologize, but a wrong step, my nerves, and apparently a sticky substance I’d left on the floor caused me to lose my balance and fall forward. By instinct, I grabbed onto the first thing I could, falling to my knees with my eyes shut tight. Something had slipped from my hands, and now another thing, thick, brushed against my nose. A dark, musky, intoxicating scent assaulted my senses. When I opened my eyes again and saw the sight before me, I wished I could die right there without needing him to kill me. In my hands was a black towel—I assumed it had been around the King's hips—and I was on my knees, clutching his powerful thighs, with a massive, veiny member right in front of my wide eyes. «Girl, this could make you cry» was the first thing that crossed my mind in my nervous breakdown. And to think it was only half... not even Dorian’s compared in detail. "Should I fetch a tape measure so you can size it up too?" His cold voice snapped me out of my frozen state. Terrified, I raised my gaze to see him completely naked, in all his glory, his burgundy hair loose and tousled, damp from the shower, and I could swear his gray eyes held a mocking glint. "Your Majesty, I’m so sorry! Please, spare the life of this humble servant who doesn’t deserve your mercy!" I threw myself to the ground, pressing my forehead against the hard surface, begging him. What I had done was unforgivable. By the Goddess, I had even stayed there... staring at it. His threatening shadow loomed over my trembling body. I clenched my eyes shut, bracing for the end. "I’ll leave right away... I beg you... I’ll leave the castle... please..." "I don’t have the patience to find a new servant every day. You leave when I decide so. Now get up." His deep voice rumbled close to my ear, and I felt him tugging at the towel I still clutched in my hands. I released it immediately, sweat trailing down my back as my entire body trembled. "Besides, if you’re going to serve me, it won’t be the last time you see it. It’s not a big deal. Come to the dining room," he added before his bare footsteps echoed away from the room. Swallowing nervously, I stood on shaky legs. «Come on, Valeria, focus, please. » "Try the breakfast," he ordered, gesturing to the food set on the table. He sat, dominating the large chair, observing my every move. I picked up the fork and cut a small piece from each dish, tasting everything bite by bite. "If something is not to your liking, I can ask the kitchen to—" "That won’t be necessary. Everything’s fine," he interrupted and then fell silent. I kept my gaze on the floor, unsure of what he was waiting for, frantically reviewing every rule in my mind. "Do you think I’m a savage who eats with his hands?" "What? No, no, Your Maj... Sir..." I quickly lifted my gaze and saw him glancing at the fork still in my hand. Holy Goddess, I had covered the only utensil with saliva! The housekeeper hadn’t mentioned I had to taste the food here too! "I... I’ll get another, I’m so sorry—" "You seem to apologize well," he said as he took the fork from my hand. "It’s dirty, I... I ate with it—" I didn’t finish because he wiped it with a napkin and began eating calmly. I stepped back, standing in the corner, awaiting his orders. Through my bangs, I occasionally stole glances at him. He looked relaxed wearing just the towel, eating and reviewing some documents beside him. No matter what the Lycan King did, his aggressive aura filled the entire space, demanding only obedience and submission. This was my new master. And honestly, I was starting to wonder if I’d be better off running far away from this castle... and this pack. Aldric Thorne was the most dangerous thing I could have crossed paths with. ***** Days passed, and despite my rookie mistakes, I managed to survive. The Lord wasn’t constantly present at the castle either—he often traveled between packs or faced dangerous situations. I hadn’t even seen the other “Guardians” until one morning. "Phew, I honestly don’t know how you handle the pressure and temptation," said Juliette. She was the only staff member who had approached me. An extroverted, cheerful girl. I didn’t consider her a friend, though—I'd never trust a woman like that again. But at least her chatter kept me entertained. We were walking through the underground corridor carrying laundry baskets when a side door leading to one of the many training gyms opened. A massive Lycan emerged. I knew by the powerful aura he projected. We immediately lowered our heads, waiting for him to pass, but his steps approached us instead. "Are these clean towels?" asked a strong but calm male voice. "Yes, yes, Sir," I answered, realizing I was the one carrying them. I glanced up for a second. Enchanting golden eyes stared back at me. I quickly lowered my gaze to the carpet and handed him a towel, but as he reached out, our fingers brushed for a moment. His touch was warm. Despite being intimidating, this Lycan projected a protective aura—not as sharp and wild as the King's. "I’m sorry... I’m so sorry—" "Relax, it’s fine. Thank you," he replied, taking the towel and walking away down the hallway. And then I dared to look at his back. Blond hair, massive like all Lycans, powerful, his muscular, sweaty back glistening, dressed in black combat gear. It seemed like he had been training. For some reason, the combination of his eyes and hair reminded me a bit of Dorian. I didn’t want to remember him at all, but the mind could be a traitor. He had been the first—and only—man I’d loved. "Right? He’s so handsome! I mean, they’re all attractive and hot, but for me, the best ones are the King and Guardian Quinn... Though the King, ugh, that man is pure fire. I’m torn—what do you think, Valeria? Would you prefer the King or Quinn?" Before I could scold her for talking so carelessly, her face turned pale, staring behind me in panic. A powerful presence pressed against my back, hot breath brushing against my ear. "I’d like to know too, Valeria. Who would you prefer? And why did you let another man touch what’s mine?" The basket in my hands begins to tremble along with my hands. I'm done for. And even though I know he’s talking about the towels, for some reason, it feels like he’s talking about me. "Ss… Sir..." "Get out!" he ordered Juliette, who looked at me for a second with guilt but had no choice but to flee almost running. I remained with my back to him. Could I run too? "I'm still waiting, Valeria. Tell me, are you unhappy with the position you were given? Would you prefer to be Quinn's personal maid instead? Turn around!" | LEARN_MORE | https://befant.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18151&u | Galaxy in the Story | https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/ | 2,490 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | befant.com | VIDEO | https://befant.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18151&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476250374_1649384135695751_6186272217287035853_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iNJsWA4u0wgQ7kNvgHBv-75&_nc_oc=AdhX-KgzfGR2LlWn6Y5RvtTIrqfcnC_0OgUzA5rDylak_P-nLphYvXa2CgXAMYTDVfm4fN2DWjCmnrXF0fj9aufM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ALnMb24EYSndeJUAhMM_xme&oh=00_AYCs5_pTuYB_rv90FWUOgBjdEwJa0Wj2X0Qtz0eyVDIInA&oe=67CBB682 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Galaxy in the Story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-03-03 12:18 | active | 2772 | 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/ | 375 | 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/t39.35426-6/475992374_1595827807737745_3696221997436330573_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=0v5_uiTIFcwQ7kNvgEUNn9S&_nc_oc=AdjD4UIJ9a0y0yg4P-TyP7Pw6E848wEVk1AAkxNsUVKIjrifeQBSA3LgJ_pUCPpJ0Z2SrluihNwkgP7WQKfsQft3&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AbPGBzTB29GZqXI0lq2p7l8&oh=00_AYAxDAUpl62D_kJh4F8PWpFsfO1h_M3lJ3yI5y7BJOjnvQ&oe=67CBAE6B | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉 | "Where is she?" I hear the Beta scream. I groan and rise to my feet, grabbing the cleaning basket before heading over. The moment Beta Kyle sees me, he strides towards me and his hand slices against my cheek. I don't make a sound. Years of experience has taught me to keep my mouth shut at all times. "Alpha Trey is expecting company and you still have not cleaned the office." Beta Kyle spits at me. I nod my head and my hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If only I could find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make my day. But I didn't need another week locked up with no food. My stomach already hurt enough. "We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Don't you understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!" I don't answer, It's a trap, a ploy to provoke me into saying something that would justify punishment. I keep my eyes lowered, avoiding his gaze. "He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!" We had never been attacked and we had never attacked anyone, so why did we need another pack to help us? He grabs my shoulders, his nails digging into my skin as he turns me around and kicks me into the office. "Useless Wolf." He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean against it, observing the already clean office. It looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing my eyes, I slide down to the floor. I hated this house. I thought that when I turned eighteen, I could finally escape, but four years later, here I still am, a slave in my own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for my brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While my ex mate, Beta Kyle waltzes around reminding me of how worthless I am. Someone clears their throat and I freeze, I thought I was alone. Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair, just around the corner. A foot propped up on his knee as he nurses a glass of alcohol. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don't quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. "Is this the way you greet all Alphas?" His deep voice rumbles through the room, there was an edge of amusement to his tone. "I'm sorry." I whisper, getting to my feet. "I...I thought I was alone." I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. "Come forward." He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey wil kill me. I step around the corner, doing as I'm told, allowing him to see me properly. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. "You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?" I nod, though I couldn't tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. "I would prefer it if you spoke to me." He growls, "I'm not in the mood to play games." "Yes." I whisper. I couldn't help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? "Why do you smell strange? And how is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me." "I..." I hated the question. "You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?" His deep voice sends a shiver through me. Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them, there was no way I was making eye contact."My Wolf abilities were bound," I mutter. Twice, I wanted to add. Twice my abilities were bound. But he probably wasn't interested in that part. He leans forward, I could feel him staring at me, "Why would someone do that?" If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. "It was a punishment." I whisper. It wasn't far from the entire truth. There's a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn't tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me "Neah, what are you doing in my office?" He turns to the crimson eyed man. "I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it's him. My brother spins around, hand poised to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He is taller than my brother, more muscly too. "Neah," My name rolls off of his tongue, "was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested." What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, withdrawing his hands reluctantly. "Neah is your sister, correct?" Alpha Dane questions my brother. "She is." Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. "Why do you treat her like trash?" No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't move but I knew I'd better leave. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. "Neah was responsible for our parents' death." Alpha Trey spits. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Responsible how?" Alpha Dane's voice rumbles through me. He was definitely angry. "She served them Wolfsbane." Don't make a sound. Don't make a sound. I knew Alpha Dane was studying me. They all did, no one could ever quite believe how someone could do something so disgusting as poisoning their own parents. I stood there, with my head hanging low, wishing for the ground to open up and suck me in. There are movements around me. He was standing directly in front of me. With a rough finger he tilts my face up towards his, forcing me to look at him. "You poisoned your parents?" "I was six." I splutter. "I just made them lemonade." My voice comes out all squeaky as I try to defend myself. I could barely remember my parents, but I could remember all the guilt I had been made to feel since that day. His crimson eyes flash to my brothers. "Hardly seems fair to blame a six year old." "A six year old should know the difference between plants." Alpha Trey snaps "Sounds to me like she was set up." Alpha Dane shrugs his shoulders, letting go of me. "You weren't there, Alpha Dane." My brother muttered through gritted teeth as his eyes narrowed to slits. "I didn't ask you here to talk about my slave!" Alpha Dane grabs his leather jacket from the chair. Unlike other Alpha's, he seemed to dress more casually, and his arms are bare of tattoos, not a single bit of ink poked out anywhere. "You're right and now I have a few things to mull over." "I thought we agreed." My brother exclaims. "Nothing has been signed. Now I will show myself out." The moment he is out of the office, my brother slams a hand into my stomach. "What the heck did you say to him?" "N...nothing. Well, he just asked me why I smelled funny." "Did you tell him?" My head involuntarily moves up and down. "But I didn't say it was you." I tried to sound strong and confident but it just comes out as a whisper. My brother's hand locks into my black hair as he yanks my head back, sending a shooting pain through my skull. "If you have ruined this, you won't see daylight again." He drags me by my hair from the office and down the hallway towards the basement door. "Please…." I beg. "He was an Alpha…I… I had to answer him." My cheeks burn with my tears as he flings the door open. On the other side of the door is Alpha Dane. He is leaning against the wall with his arms folded, staring out at us. My brother's hand falls from my hair, relieving the pressure on the back of my skull... "Alpha Dane, I thought you had left." Alpha Trey murmurs angrily. "I said I would show myself out. I thought I had found the door, but instead I find a basement, riddled in your sister's strange scent. Is this how you treat your family?" "It's none of your business!" Alpha Trey sputters. Alpha Dane laughs. "If I agree to this deal, everything about your business becomes my business. So tell me, what would your punishment be for her? No food, locked away for a week, beatings?" I see those crimson eyes land on my swollen face. "I have a proposition for you, Alpha Trey." "We have already agreed on terms." "Well, I'm adding one. And if you don't agree, you will not get my help. Instead, you will become my enemy. And we both know, you don't want that." "I take it that your new terms have something to do with her?" Alpha Trey mutters through clenched teeth. "You would be correct. Let me take her away to my pack and then you, Trey will have a deal." Me? Why would he want me? I was a nobody, no one special. "Deal." After a little more thinking, Alpha Trey sticks out his hand for Alpha Dane to shake. He doesn't take it, instead his crimson eyes shift from me to my brother. "I will have paperwork drawn up and will return tomorrow." He reaches a hand out and cups my face, "Ensure you have everything packed." He drags his thumb across my bottom lip and strides to the opposite end of the hallway and straight to the front door. He knew exactly where the front door was, so what was he up to? He pauses at the door. "If I find out you has laid a hand on her. The contract will be the last thing you need to worry about." He struts out, slamming the door behind him. After Dane leaves, my brother grabs me by the collar. "You think you're going to have a good life if you follow Alpha Dane out of here? Don't be naive!" He continues in a vicious voice. "He's the coldest man in the world, he's killed nine of his mates, I'm waiting to see what happens to you!" | LEARN_MORE | https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783& | New world publications | https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/ | 3,809 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | wwwedb.com | IMAGE | https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/473520814_1664888367780955_6686601557759354847_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=NaHZHzmywLwQ7kNvgGVj-UR&_nc_oc=AdhadgrZRhRHPuXPrNEJDAsnrsWuYcq5RvrrMqN4Uuhf4ROcnj6eDUIqVUt1c0x8hG2XOMcnTRq5M1SpffkAN6qk&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqPOqxg8hipzDfv2PWpqk9i&oh=00_AYCSBgfYGfsCIA1rfi-JswvOgTC2KEn8xmOCQSj46HClcw&oe=67CBC5D5 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | New world publications | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-03-03 12:18 | active | 2772 | 0 | 🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉 | "Where is she?" I hear the Beta scream. I groan and rise to my feet, grabbing the cleaning basket before heading over. The moment Beta Kyle sees me, he strides towards me and his hand slices against my cheek. I don't make a sound. Years of experience has taught me to keep my mouth shut at all times. "Alpha Trey and I are expecting company and you still have not cleaned the office." Beta Kyle spits at me. I nod my head and my hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If only I could find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make my day. But I didn't need another week locked up with no food. My stomach already hurt enough. "We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Don't you understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!" I don't answer, It's a trap, a ploy to provoke me into saying something that would justify punishment. I keep my eyes lowered, avoiding his gaze. Alpha Dane, I had only ever heard rumours about him. He was a ruthless man, a Wolf feared by others. He didn't mess around and he had the largest pack. "He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!" We had never been attacked and we had never attacked anyone, so why did we need another pack to help us? He grabs my shoulders, his nails digging into my skin as he turns me around and kicks me into the office. "Useless Wolf." He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean against it, observing the already clean office. It looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing my eyes, I slide down to the floor. I hated this house. I thought that when I turned eighteen, I could finally escape, but four years later, here I still am, a slave in my own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for my brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While my ex mate, Beta Kyle waltzes around reminding me of how worthless I am. Someone clears their throat and I freeze, I thought I was alone. Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair, just around the corner. A foot propped up on his knee as he nurses a glass of alcohol. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don't quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. "Is this the way you greet all Alphas?" His deep voice rumbles through the room, there was an edge of amusement to his tone. "I'm sorry." I whisper, getting to my feet. "I...I thought I was alone." I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. "Come forward." He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey wil kill me. I step around the corner, doing as I'm told, allowing him to see me properly. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. "You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?" I nod, though I couldn't tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. "I would prefer it if you spoke to me." He growls, "I'm not in the mood to play games." "Yes." I whisper. I couldn't help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? "Why do you smell strange? And how is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me." "I..." I hated the question. "You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. It's rude to not look at them. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?" His deep voice sends a shiver through me. Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them, there was no way I was making eye contact."My Wolf abilities were bound," I mutter. Twice, I wanted to add. Twice my abilities were bound. But he probably wasn't interested in that part. He leans forward, I could feel him staring at me, "Why would someone do that?" If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. "It was a punishment." I whisper. It wasn't far from the entire truth. There's a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn't tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me "Neah, what are you doing in my office?" He turns to the crimson eyed man. "I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it's him. My brother spins around, hand poised to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He is taller than my brother, more muscly too. "Neah," My name rolls off of his tongue, "was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested." What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. "Go and get Beta Kyle." Alpha Trey seethes. "Tell him our guest is here." I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. "Beta Kyle," I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. "Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you." He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. "You're lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't see sunlight for a few days." Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn't speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn't last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. "Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating." I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. "Neah is your sister, correct?" Alpha Dane questions my brother. "She is." Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. "Why do you treat her like trash?" Straight to the point, my brother wouldn't like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. "Neah was responsible for our parents' death." Alpha Trey spits I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Responsible how?" Alpha Dane's voice rumbles through me. He was definitely angry. "She served them Wolfsbane." Don't make a sound. Don't make a sound. I knew Alpha Dane was studying me. They all did, no one could ever quite believe how someone could do something so disgusting as poisoning their own parents. I stood there, with my head hanging low, wishing for the ground to open up and suck me in. There are movements around me. He was standing directly in front of me. With a rough finger he tilts my face up towards his, forcing me to look at him. "You poisoned your parents?" "I was six." I splutter. "I just made them lemonade." My voice comes out all squeaky as I try to defend myself. I could barely remember my parents, but I could remember all the guilt I had been made to feel since that day. His crimson eyes flash to my brothers. "Hardly seems fair to blame a six year old." "A six year old should know the difference between plants." Alpha Trey snaps "Sounds to me like she was set up." Alpha Dane shrugs his shoulders, letting go of me. "You weren't there, Alpha Dane." My brother muttered through gritted teeth as his eyes narrowed to slits. "I didn't ask you here to talk about my slave!" Alpha Dane grabs his leather jacket from the chair. Unlike other Alpha's he seemed to dress more casually. A simple black tee and jeans covered his huge frame. And unlike other Alpha's, his arms are bare of tattoos, not a single bit of ink poked out anywhere. "You're right and now I have a few things to mull over." "I thought we agreed." My brother exclaims "Nothing has been signed. Now I will show myself out." The moment he is out of the office, both my brother and Beta Kyle round on me. "What the heck did you say to him?" My brother demands, slamming a hand into my stomach. "N...nothing. Well, he just asked me why I smelled funny." "Did you tell him?" Beta Kyle demands. He was practically spitting in my face. I hated him. I hated him so much that I had vowed to one day get my revenge and rip his stomach out through his mouth. "WELL?" My brother yells when I don't immediately respond and smacks me across the side of the head. My head involuntarily moves up and down. "But I didn't say it was you." I tried to sound strong and confident but it just comes out as a whisper. My brother's hand locks into my black hair as he yanks my head back, sending a shooting pain through my skull. "If you have ruined this, you won't see daylight again." He drags me by my hair from the office and down the hallway towards the basement door. "Please…." I beg. "He was an Alpha…I… I had to answer him." My cheeks burn with my tears as he flings the door open. On the other side of the door is Alpha Dane. He is leaning against the wall with his arms folded, staring out at us. My brother's hand falls from my hair, relieving the pressure on the back of my skull... "Alpha Dane, I thought you had left." Alpha Trey murmurs angrily. "I said I would show myself out. I thought I had found the door, but instead I find a basement, riddled in your sister's strange scent. Is this how you treat your family?" "As I said," my brother holds his ground, "She is responsible for the death of my parents, so yes, this is what she deserves." "You should keep your nose out of other packs' business!" Beta Kyle adds. Alpha Dane laughs. "If I agree to this deal, everything about your business becomes my business. So tell me, what would your punishment be for her? No food, locked away for a week, beatings?" Both Alpha Trey and Beta Kyle hold their tongues. There was no reason for him to defend me and yet he was. I was a nobody, no one special. Just who everyone called a traitor. Only instead of being given a death sentence, my brother had decided to make me spend my life suffering. I see those crimson eyes land on my swollen face. "I have a proposition for you, Alpha Trey." Alpha Dane speaks up again. "We have already agreed on terms." "Well, I'm adding one. And if you don't agree, you will not get my help. Instead, you will become my enemy. And we both know, you don't want that." "I take it that your new terms have something to do with her?" Alpha Trey mutters through clenched teeth. "You would be correct. Let me take her away to my pack and then you, Trey will have a deal." Me? Why would he want me? As my brother and his Beta discuss me, Alpha Dane is still studying me. His look made me nervous. What could someone like him possibly want with me? "Deal." Alpha Trey sticks out his hand for Alpha Dane to shake. He doesn't take it, instead his crimson eyes shift from me to my brother. "I will have paperwork drawn up and will return tomorrow." He reaches a hand out and cups my face, "Ensure you have everything packed." He drags his thumb across my bottom lip and strides to the opposite end of the hallway and straight to the front door. He knew exactly where the front door was, so what was he up to? He pauses at the door. "If I find out any one of you has laid a hand on her. The contract will be the last thing you need to worry about." He struts out, slamming the door behind him. After Dane leaves, my brother grabs me by the collar. "You think you're going to have a good life if you follow Alpha Dane out of here? Don't be naive!" He continues in a vicious voice. "He's the coldest man in the world, he's killed nine of his mates, I'm waiting to see what happens to you!" | LEARN_MORE | https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=17724&u | New world publications | https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/ | 3,809 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | wwwedb.com | VIDEO | https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=17724&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/t39.35426-6/474967207_620523380557919_507844864924151711_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=7mwALdA19U8Q7kNvgHLBa20&_nc_oc=Adgj5x5YTSdrQ3qtzEqFRCYzyU303mFAQyFlF9GU9ZaqLZ2qNUC45CNN_nAHsxpEudVE1fWntjBL-ZXlNqkPLkUe&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ab5JSVE4ixPEOt7GXhmPGmA&oh=00_AYA0LvYJUhJ7vgDR5OkgixWGNQuinZTXN9u7HXqa7ehlOw&oe=67CBD5C5 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | New world publications | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉 | "Where is she?" I hear the Beta scream. I groan and rise to my feet, grabbing the cleaning basket before heading over. The moment Beta Kyle sees me, he strides towards me and his hand slices against my cheek. I don't make a sound. Years of experience has taught me to keep my mouth shut at all times. "Alpha Trey is expecting company and you still have not cleaned the office." Beta Kyle spits at me. I nod my head and my hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If only I could find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make my day. But I didn't need another week locked up with no food. My stomach already hurt enough. "We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Don't you understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!" I don't answer, It's a trap, a ploy to provoke me into saying something that would justify punishment. I keep my eyes lowered, avoiding his gaze. "He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!" We had never been attacked and we had never attacked anyone, so why did we need another pack to help us? He grabs my shoulders, his nails digging into my skin as he turns me around and kicks me into the office. "Useless Wolf." He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean against it, observing the already clean office. It looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing my eyes, I slide down to the floor. I hated this house. I thought that when I turned eighteen, I could finally escape, but four years later, here I still am, a slave in my own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for my brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While my ex mate, Beta Kyle waltzes around reminding me of how worthless I am. Someone clears their throat and I freeze, I thought I was alone. Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair, just around the corner. A foot propped up on his knee as he nurses a glass of alcohol. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don't quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. "Is this the way you greet all Alphas?" His deep voice rumbles through the room, there was an edge of amusement to his tone. "I'm sorry." I whisper, getting to my feet. "I...I thought I was alone." I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. "Come forward." He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey wil kill me. I step around the corner, doing as I'm told, allowing him to see me properly. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. "You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?" I nod, though I couldn't tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. "I would prefer it if you spoke to me." He growls, "I'm not in the mood to play games." "Yes." I whisper. I couldn't help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? "Why do you smell strange? And how is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me." "I..." I hated the question. "You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?" His deep voice sends a shiver through me. Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them, there was no way I was making eye contact."My Wolf abilities were bound," I mutter. Twice, I wanted to add. Twice my abilities were bound. But he probably wasn't interested in that part. He leans forward, I could feel him staring at me, "Why would someone do that?" If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. "It was a punishment." I whisper. It wasn't far from the entire truth. There's a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn't tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me "Neah, what are you doing in my office?" He turns to the crimson eyed man. "I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it's him. My brother spins around, hand poised to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He is taller than my brother, more muscly too. "Neah," My name rolls off of his tongue, "was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested." What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, withdrawing his hands reluctantly. "Neah is your sister, correct?" Alpha Dane questions my brother. "She is." Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. "Why do you treat her like trash?" No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't move but I knew I'd better leave. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. "Neah was responsible for our parents' death." Alpha Trey spits. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Responsible how?" Alpha Dane's voice rumbles through me. He was definitely angry. "She served them Wolfsbane." Don't make a sound. Don't make a sound. I knew Alpha Dane was studying me. They all did, no one could ever quite believe how someone could do something so disgusting as poisoning their own parents. I stood there, with my head hanging low, wishing for the ground to open up and suck me in. There are movements around me. He was standing directly in front of me. With a rough finger he tilts my face up towards his, forcing me to look at him. "You poisoned your parents?" "I was six." I splutter. "I just made them lemonade." My voice comes out all squeaky as I try to defend myself. I could barely remember my parents, but I could remember all the guilt I had been made to feel since that day. His crimson eyes flash to my brothers. "Hardly seems fair to blame a six year old." "A six year old should know the difference between plants." Alpha Trey snaps "Sounds to me like she was set up." Alpha Dane shrugs his shoulders, letting go of me. "You weren't there, Alpha Dane." My brother muttered through gritted teeth as his eyes narrowed to slits. "I didn't ask you here to talk about my slave!" Alpha Dane grabs his leather jacket from the chair. Unlike other Alpha's, he seemed to dress more casually, and his arms are bare of tattoos, not a single bit of ink poked out anywhere. "You're right and now I have a few things to mull over." "I thought we agreed." My brother exclaims. "Nothing has been signed. Now I will show myself out." The moment he is out of the office, my brother slams a hand into my stomach. "What the heck did you say to him?" "N...nothing. Well, he just asked me why I smelled funny." "Did you tell him?" My head involuntarily moves up and down. "But I didn't say it was you." I tried to sound strong and confident but it just comes out as a whisper. My brother's hand locks into my black hair as he yanks my head back, sending a shooting pain through my skull. "If you have ruined this, you won't see daylight again." He drags me by my hair from the office and down the hallway towards the basement door. "Please…." I beg. "He was an Alpha…I… I had to answer him." My cheeks burn with my tears as he flings the door open. On the other side of the door is Alpha Dane. He is leaning against the wall with his arms folded, staring out at us. My brother's hand falls from my hair, relieving the pressure on the back of my skull... "Alpha Dane, I thought you had left." Alpha Trey murmurs angrily. "I said I would show myself out. I thought I had found the door, but instead I find a basement, riddled in your sister's strange scent. Is this how you treat your family?" "It's none of your business!" Alpha Trey sputters. Alpha Dane laughs. "If I agree to this deal, everything about your business becomes my business. So tell me, what would your punishment be for her? No food, locked away for a week, beatings?" I see those crimson eyes land on my swollen face. "I have a proposition for you, Alpha Trey." "We have already agreed on terms." "Well, I'm adding one. And if you don't agree, you will not get my help. Instead, you will become my enemy. And we both know, you don't want that." "I take it that your new terms have something to do with her?" Alpha Trey mutters through clenched teeth. "You would be correct. Let me take her away to my pack and then you, Trey will have a deal." Me? Why would he want me? I was a nobody, no one special. "Deal." After a little more thinking, Alpha Trey sticks out his hand for Alpha Dane to shake. He doesn't take it, instead his crimson eyes shift from me to my brother. "I will have paperwork drawn up and will return tomorrow." He reaches a hand out and cups my face, "Ensure you have everything packed." He drags his thumb across my bottom lip and strides to the opposite end of the hallway and straight to the front door. He knew exactly where the front door was, so what was he up to? He pauses at the door. "If I find out you has laid a hand on her. The contract will be the last thing you need to worry about." He struts out, slamming the door behind him. After Dane leaves, my brother grabs me by the collar. "You think you're going to have a good life if you follow Alpha Dane out of here? Don't be naive!" He continues in a vicious voice. "He's the coldest man in the world, he's killed nine of his mates, I'm waiting to see what happens to you!" | LEARN_MORE | https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783& | New world publications | https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/ | 3,809 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | wwwedb.com | IMAGE | https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476136750_642433428272542_7162897706553419659_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=TESDBsCjne4Q7kNvgFCcj2n&_nc_oc=AdjeH2zSjZWrXNi3wqVShlLEsXNqgZg1eLh9E55dgQMW8HP48BY7LZ3fuWBwrdN5qmdUSgh0cGvBW24gH7mLWlsi&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A10aikcd-1xM21SUnRchxji&oh=00_AYD2V41nRsvc1Q1-cGhfovpVDcL2qsCo2Z4Ir2tWBq8CUw&oe=67CBB9AA | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | New world publications | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-03-03 12:18 | active | 2772 | 0 | 🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉 | I got home after a long day, and my parents were waiting for me in the living room. "Catherine, sit down. We need to talk," my father said, looking quite agitated. "What's going on, Dad?" I asked tiredly. I had worked all day, gone to college at night, and upon getting home, all I wanted was to take a shower and crash into bed. But that wasn't possible. "Catherine, your cousin's wedding invitation has arrived," my mother said. "That little tramp is not my cousin!" I snapped, already getting angry. "Catherine, she is your cousin," my mother insisted. "You need to stop this childish behavior. Melissa already hit her and caused a scene here at home. Enough! She's my sister's daughter, which makes her your cousin." "I'm sorry, Mom, but she means nothing to me," I tried to stay calm. "She slept with my boyfriend in my bed. That's not something she should do." I had been dating Claude for four years; he was my first boyfriend, and I found him in my bed, in my room, sleeping with Kelly, my cousin! I was in shock. Of course, Melissa, my best friend, went after them. Since then, things had been tensed at home because my parents insisted it was silly and that I should act as if nothing had happened and go back to being around my cousin. "He was wrong, Catherine, since he was your boyfriend," my mother argued. "Kelly, poor thing, was seduced. He dishonored her, now he's marrying her so she won't be talked about badly in town." "Oh, Mom! Spare me! The whole town knows Kelly is a shameless woman..." I lost my patience. "Catherine, watch your language!" my father scolded me. "Look, if you don't want to be around Kelly, fine, but you're going to this wedding. And enough with this rude behavior." "I'm what?" I thought I had heard wrong. "You're going to your cousin's wedding, Catherine. That's an order! We're your parents, and you'll obey," my mother spoke angrily at me as if I were the one in the wrong. "I'm sorry, Mom, but I won't! I follow your rules, I'm a good daughter, but this time I can't. I was the one who was wronged! I have every right not to want to be the family joke anymore," I said, already crying. "ENOUGH, CATHERINE!" my father shouted, startling me. "You're going to this wedding, and that's final." "But, Dad..." "I don't want to hear it, Catherine! It's important to your mother to keep peace in the family. So you're going, period," my father said, leaving no room for argument. I spent the night crying in my room. The next day, I told Melissa everything. She wasted no time and arranged invitations to a masquerade ball, a gala event. She told my parents it would be crucial for my career since the city's most important businesspeople would be there. I could make valuable connections, and our professors had promised to introduce us to various entrepreneurs who could open doors for our professional future. At first, my parents weren't entirely convinced, but Melissa's parents talked to them and persuaded them that it would be an excellent opportunity for my future. So they agreed that I should take advantage of it. "Catherine, you can't say no to me! I've already bought the tickets and masks, and I even convinced your parents that this is a super important event for your professional future, which was such hard work. This party is going to be incredible, and you're not going to miss it!" Melissa looked at me with puppy dog eyes, clasping her hands together as if begging. I was sitting at my desk at work in the middle of a Thursday afternoon, between taking messages and making calls, when Mel showed up with coffee, chocolate muffins, and this persistence about getting me to agree to go to the masquerade ball, which was the biggest annual event in our city. "Oh, Mel, how is it that I can never say no to you? Alright, I'll go!" I agreed to go to the ball, but I still wasn't sure. Either way, I was going to sleep at Mel's house to avoid the wedding, but I wasn't planning on going to the party. However, Melissa kept pushing until she convinced me to go. On Saturday, we got ready at her place. "Wow, girl! You look absolutely stunning!" She handed me a beautiful golden mask, intricately designed like lace that covered up to my nose, and I put it on. I was wearing a shimmering red satin dress, and the mask matched perfectly. "So, are we ready?" "Yes, we're ready," I replied and grabbed my purse. "Oh, I forgot my perfume." "No problem, you can use my mom's new perfume. She won't mind." When Fred, Mel's boyfriend, saw us, he smiled, gave Mel a kiss, and said: "Girls, you look gorgeous! I think you'll leave this party with a new boyfriend, Cat." "No boyfriend, Fred. Actually, I think I'd better stay, I'm not in the party mood. Please, Mel, let me stay?" Chapter 2 There was no way out - my friend dragged me to the ball. As soon as we got in, Mel pulled us to the bar and whispered in my ear: "It's an open bar tonight, so you're going to drink until all that sadness washes away!" Mel handed me two tequila shots while holding two more in her hands. "Let's down these!" We knocked back the tequila, and Fred was already handing each of us a cosmopolitan. Melissa dragged me to the dance floor, and I was actually having fun. When a slow song started playing, Fred and Mel began slow dancing together. I took that as my cue to head to the buffet, but I didn't make it there. I felt someone grab my hand, and when I turned around, there was a man in a black mask smiling at me - and what a smile! He kissed my hand and pulled me close, whispering in my ear with a husky voice: "Surely the most beautiful woman in the room won't deny me a dance, will she?" "And why not? Let's dance," I smiled back at him. It was impossible to resist that seductive husky voice and that gorgeous crooked smile! He was tall with broad shoulders, had a charming smile and blue eyes - so blue they were almost violet. He had sinfully tempting lips, brown hair, and when he pulled me by the waist, I placed my hands on his chest and could feel he was a wall of well-defined muscle. Although the mask concealed his face, he was very charming and enchanting. "I've been watching you since you arrived," this mysterious man whispered in my ear. "You're so beautiful!" "You're kind. But you're not from around here, are you?" He had a powerful presence, radiating authority. "No. A friend convinced me to come to this party." "Looks like we have something in common - my friends convinced me to come too." "Lucky me!" "And why's that?" I smiled. "Because I was captivated the moment I saw you. You're stunning." As he whispered in my ear, I got goosebumps, feeling my face flush and my body tingle - he truly had me enchanted. "Even with the mask?" "Even with the mask! You're too beautiful." "You're such a charmer." "You think I'm charming?" "You know you are. And handsome too." "I'm glad you like what you see." "And what do you do for a living, handsome?" - I felt a bit dizzy, not sure if it was from the drink or the delicious cologne that man was wearing. I ended up stumbling over my own feet. "Are you okay?" "I think I need some air." "Come with me." - He pulled me into a dark hallway that led to an emergency exit and started fanning my face. - "I really want to kiss you. May I?" - I nodded yes. He looked into my eyes, held the back of my neck, and our lips met. It started slow but deepened; he pressed me against the wall, and the kiss intensified even more, almost taking our breath away. When he broke the kiss so we could breathe, we looked into each other's eyes - it was like throwing gasoline on fire. He ran his hand down my waist to my leg and pulled my leg up to his waist. I was completely surrendered by then, feeling his body against mine. I went crazy with desire and pulled him closer, wrapping my leg around his waist. "You're a great kisser!" - I smiled at him and felt my whole body tingle. "Oh, beautiful, you're incredible. I want you so badly, here, right now!" - he said between kisses and slipped his hand under my dress, pulling it up and reaching my underwear. I was on fire when he put his hand inside my underwear and yelled. - "Oh! So delicious! So hot, so wet!" - He said and kissed me harder while unzipping his pants. With a quick movement, like someone who had done this before, he tore my underwear and caressed my entrance, as if asking for permission. He looked into my eyes again and asked: "What do you want me to do?" "I want you inside me now!" I responded shamelessly, already panting with desire. I couldn't resist those eyes and that husky voice. I'd never been like this before - normally, I would have pulled away the moment he grabbed my hand, but tonight I had promised myself to have fun and live in the moment if someone interesting came along. And that's exactly what I was doing, living in the moment. Hearing me, he entered me slowly, watching as I leaned my head against the wall and savored every inch of him - and he was huge. He took the opportunity to scatter kisses along my neck. When he was fully inside, he paused and whispered between kisses in my ear: "Now I'm going to move." He pulled out only to thrust back in with full force this time, and it was incredible. I was completely lost and driven wild by his movements as he moved in and out of me frantically. We lost control and gave ourselves over completely, as if nothing else existed around us. I felt a haze in my eyes as my climax began to build, and I moaned softly in his ear. At that moment, he seemed to go crazy, lifting my other leg to his waist as I wrapped them around him. Kissing me intensely, he thrust even harder into me - it was heaven on earth. I came again, even more intensely than before, leaving me breathless. As I was coming, he whispered that he was close to his limit feeling me pulse around him, and soon I felt his hot release inside me. We stayed there against that wall, completely breathless, his forehead resting against mine. While kissing me, he slowly withdrew, and I was thoroughly satisfied - as Melissa would say. I smiled and he looked at me, gave me a soft kiss and said: "You're truly amazing!" He gently lowered my legs until my feet touched the ground, fixed my dress, adjusted his pants, and hugged me. It was so intimate, so affectionate - despite the wildness of our encounter and the intensity with which we'd given in to each other, he was still gentle with me. I'd never had such an incredible experience, but I'd only ever been with my ex until now. And my ex had never cared about hugging me afterward, or worried about my pleasure - for him, it was just about getting in and out until he was satisfied. So having a man care about me, about my pleasure, take care of me - it was new, and amazingly so. He kissed my neck and whispered in my ear: "So, beautiful, I still don't know your name." It took me seconds to process and finally realize that I'd just slept with a complete stranger whose name I didn't even know. Just as I was about to speak, he pulled his phone from his pocket and asked for a minute to answer it. He stepped away slightly and I could only hear him raising his voice saying: "What did you say?" At that moment, the stranger ran off as if he'd forgotten about me, or as if he was just running away from the woman he'd quickly hooked up with at the party. Of course, Catherine, you're an idiot! But so what? I was just having fun too, and I didn't even know who the guy was, and he didn't know who I was. All good. I pulled myself together, looked in vain for my underwear - no idea where he'd thrown it - and left that hallway. I went back to the table and found Mel and Fred making out. They soon stopped and focused on me: "Mel, I think I found the Big Bad Wolf!" I laughed, and she laughed with me. "When we get home, I want to know everything!" "Of course you do!" I replied with sparkling eyes. "Prince, I think we can go now. What do you think, Cat?" "I'm ready whenever you are!" I said, downing a glass of water. "Let's go then, girls!" Fred said and led us to the exit. We'd barely gotten home when Mel started demanding: "Tell me everything - who is he, how it went, how it didn't go, everything." I laughed and told her everything. When I finished speaking, my friend was staring at me open-mouthed and asked: "You guys used protection, right?" My heart started racing! We hadn't used protection. I shook my head no at her; I was in shock realizing how careless I'd been. She immediately tried to calm me down: "No, Cat, calm down. I'm sure nothing will come of it. But you should get some tests done to make sure everything's okay. I'm going to the kitchen to make us some tea. Don't freak out!" Chapter 3 On Monday during lunch, I met Mel. She handed me a small bag from a fancy store, and I looked at her, confused. "My mom asked me to give this to you. She said it's perfect for you and doesn't suit her," Mel said with a big smile. I opened the bag, and inside was the perfume I had worn to the ball. A huge smile spread across my face. I loved that perfume, and it was part of the best night of my life. I just hoped that my best night hadn't left me with an STD as a souvenir. With that thought, I thanked Mel and told her I'd call her mom later, then mentioned I wanted to call the lab to schedule some tests. I called the laboratory and was informed that I needed a doctor's prescription to get the tests covered by health insurance. Thank God the company provided health insurance for employees because otherwise, I wouldn't know what to do. My salary wasn't high, and what little was left after covering college expenses went to helping at home, since my mom didn't work outside the house and my dad didn't make much as a driver. So I made a doctor's appointment, but the earliest available slot was two weeks away, and I waited anxiously. The more days passed, the more nervous I became, though Mel did everything to calm me down. On the scheduled date, she went to the doctor's with me. With the list of tests in hand, she personally scheduled the lab work and insisted on accompanying me. Three weeks had passed since the party when I finally got the tests done. The results came back five days later, and I returned to the doctor. Of course, Mel was with me. The doctor checked the results and looked me in the eyes: "Miss Catherine, your health is excellent. You're healthy. But from now on, you'll need to take better care of yourself." I breathed a sigh of relief, but was I really about to get lectured by the doctor for having unprotected bedlife with a stranger? Well, I deserved it - not using protection was silly, I could have caught a disease. And then he continued: "Congratulations, you're conceived! I'm going to refer you to an OB-GYN for prenatal care..." I didn't hear anything else, just the blood pulsing in my ears. I couldn't believe this! conceived? How would I explain this? It's not possible. Me, of all people, the perfect goody-two-shoes who never stepped out of line, who always considered the consequences before doing anything, who was always responsible - the first time I let rationality slide, I ended up conceived and didn't even know who the father was! Mel held my hand and kept repeating: "Calm down, Cat, everything will be okay!" How could everything be okay? I didn't even know who the father was. I would have to tell my parents, their only daughter would break their hearts. They would be disappointed, hate me, and kick me out of the house. How could I explain that I don't even know what the father of my child looks like? I was already hyperventilating. Suddenly, I felt the doctor taking my hand and speaking calmly: "Easy now, dear! The situation, from what I can see, isn't ideal, but you can't get this nervous, it will harm your baby. Now you have to take care of yourself for the baby's sake. I'm sure the people who love you will support and help you. But you need to calm down because only you can ensure this baby develops healthily and is born strong. Do you understand me?" I looked at that short, white-haired, slightly chubby gentleman, with his glasses perched on the tip of his nose, and nodded positively. Somehow he calmed me down a bit, maybe because his eyes sparkled with a kindness and understanding that we rarely see these days. The doctor asked his secretary to bring me some chamomile tea, and while I drank it and tried to calm down, he gave all the information to Melissa, who listened attentively. We left the office and Melissa took me to a diner, saying we needed to eat something. As soon as I sat down, I felt the tears falling. My friend hugged me and told me once again that I wasn't alone. I looked at her and said: "The only thing I'm sure of right now is that I want you and Fred to be my child's godparents because I know you'll support them and give them lots of love." Her eyes sparkled, and she burst into tears, responding between sobs: "I'll be the best godmother in the world and I'll always be close to our baby! And I'm sure Fred will be very happy too!" She assured me she would always be by my side, made it clear that I wouldn't go through anything alone, and that she would be with me when I talked to my parents. My parents... oh! I started thinking and decided I wouldn't hide it from them for even a day; I would tell them that very night. I wouldn't go to college, I would go home to talk to them. Mel immediately supported me and said: "Let's go then, I'm with you!" When we arrived at my house, my parents were startled, and my mom came right over, worried: "Girls, didn't you go to class today? Is everything okay?" "Not really, Mom. I need to talk to you both." My parents immediately realized it was something very serious. We all sat in the living room and I told them what was happening, admitting I had been irresponsible by hooking up with a stranger at the party. I obviously didn't go into details, but I made it clear that I couldn't find my child's father again. The disappointment in their eyes was evident. My mother was sobbing uncontrollably, saying I was ruined. My father hadn't said anything yet. Seeing how upset my mother was, Melissa quickly went to the kitchen and came back with a glass of sugar water for her. Melissa always gives sugar water to nervous people, saying it calms them down - I never understood that. Finally, my father spoke: "You made a huge mistake and there's no going back." My parents were very simple people. My father was a tall, strong man, and my mother was an older version of me, but both had great character and solid principles they always made sure to pass on to me. Hearing my father emphasize that I had messed up made my heart ache even more. I started crying and said: "I know, Dad, I was irresponsible. But there's nothing I can do now. I'll drop out of college to raise my child. And I'm going to pack my bags..." "Pack your bags? You're very mistaken if you think you're leaving this house like that. You made a mistake, and you disappointed us, but we love you, we'll get through this and we'll help you. You're not alone, my daughter! And neither is this child!" My father said this and my heart filled with hope. "But Dad, I brought shame to you..." "You're not the first and won't be the last single mother in this world. We would have liked things to be different for you, not so difficult. You've always been so responsible! But if this is how it is, we'll face it together. You won't leave college - more than ever, you need to grow in life to take care of your child. You're going to be a single mother, your responsibility is huge. We'll help you, and even though it will be difficult, everything will work out." Melissa was already crying and quickly spoke to my parents: "Mr. Anthony, Mrs. Selina, you can count on me, I'll help with everything! Besides, I'm this baby's godmother, Cat is like a sister to me, and I'll always be around." My parents looked at her gratefully. I looked at those three feeling completely blessed to have them in my life, full of love for them and experiencing a totally new feeling for that little being still growing inside me, whose existence I had just discovered! As difficult as being a single mother would be, that night at the ball was the best night of my life. I could never forget those violet-blue eyes looking at me with adoration during our furtive encounter and everything my body experienced that night. I would always have that sweet memory with me. The following months were difficult. I kept the dress, shoes, mask, and perfume that Mel's mother gave me in a box. On difficult days, I would open that box and relive that night in my memory. Although I had a peaceful pregnancy, people's comments and cruelty were hard to bear. To make matters worse, after they got married, my ex and my cousin moved in with her parents, who lived on the same street as us. They made sure to humiliate me with nasty comments whenever they saw me and spread throughout the neighborhood that I didn't know who my child's father was and that I was a loose woman, which was why Claude had left me. I wanted to end them! Kelly's mother, who was my mother's sister, never missed a chance to come to our house and torment us, saying how fortunate it was that her daughter wasn't like me, that she was a good girl who had married a decent man. She seemed to have forgotten that she had stolen my boyfriend and slept with him in my bed. But I swallowed it all; it wasn't worth arguing with these people, and I didn't want to transmit negative feelings to my child. As the days went by, I loved that baby more and more. I had no idea such love could exist. Everything I did, I did for him. I would protect him from everything; I would give my life to him. And surprisingly, during the whole time of carrying with a baby, everything seemed to flow in my favor, things were falling into place and working out. My boss was great, understood my situation, and even gave me a small raise, which was a huge help! Mel and Fred showered me with attention, they were in love with their godchild even before knowing if it would be a girl or boy. They insisted on buying everything for the nursery, which turned out beautiful. Mel accompanied me to all appointments and every test, never missing anything. She even organized two baby showers - one at the company and another at college. My child would come into the world surrounded by love. I found out I was having a boy and decided to name him Peter. And so it was. Peter was born healthy, with a pair of huge violet-blue eyes that would never let me forget the night that changed my life, but was also the best night I'd ever had! I would never forget that man! My son was surrounded by love from the first moment. My parents were enchanted by their grandson. Mel and Fred came to our house every day to see their godson and check how we were doing. Mel was always there supporting me in everything. Her parents also came to visit Peter and said they would be honorary grandparents since they considered me their daughter too, which I found beautiful. They also surrounded me with care. They insisted on giving the stroller as a gift, and the day Peter was born, they came to the maternity ward with a huge basket of flowers and welcome balloons. After my maternity leave ended, my son stayed in my mother's care while I was at work and college. I worked hard and devoted all my time not spent at college or work to my son. With the help of my parents and my son's godparents, I managed everything and didn't miss any semester in college, graduating alongside my friend Melissa. It was a great moment for me and my family. With my diploma in hand, I would now pursue a better future, with the firm purpose that my son would never lack anything. Chapter 4 When I graduated, Peter was already two years old. By then, he was walking everywhere, always clinging to grandma - which was his first word. He was a beautiful boy with straight black hair, fair skin, a cute little upturned nose, and those huge violet eyes that made me sigh. He was my sunshine! And now I would have more time for him. After graduation, my boss called me in for a chat. He was an excellent boss and said he was very happy with my work at the company, but he knew I deserved to go far, so I should look for a job in my field, and he would understand. He assured me that my job at the construction company would be mine for as long as I wanted, and if I left and things didn't work out, I would always have a place to come back to. However, he advised that I should seek something in my field of study to provide a better future for my son. I was very touched by this and accepted his good advice. I told Melissa, and she immediately said she would talk to her father about reaching out to some contacts. It didn't take long before Mr. Oliver Larson, Mel's father, called me to his office and handed me a card, saying: "Catherine, I know you're an excellent girl and a good professional. I spoke with a friend, and he arranged an interview for you at Miller Group. It's for the position of CEO's assistant. If you get this job, you'll be working in your field at a global company. It's an excellent position, but it's not here in Bellwood. You would have to move to Paradise Port. I know it's a huge step, but I think you should consider it - it will be excellent for you. Anyway, send an email to the address on the card with your response, either declining the position or accepting the virtual interview." "Mr. Larson, I don't have words to thank you! You've always been so good to me! Miller Group is one of the largest business conglomerates in the country! Working there is a dream! I'll definitely accept the interview, and if I have to move, I will. I know it will be a great opportunity," I said with conviction. It wouldn't be bad to get away from those nasty family members, especially now that "queen" Kelly was conceived and her mother decided to ask for all of Peter's things for the child of that dishonest couple! Thankfully, my mom told her that was absurd, but it wouldn't matter anyway since I had already given everything Peter had outgrown to an acquaintance who was conceived. My mom had been very upset with her sister, as she was always dismissing my son, always referring to him as the fatherless boy, which really hurt my mom. Leaving this city, I'll only regret leaving my parents and friends behind, but I know they'll support me once again. I thanked Mr. Larson and left the office. When I got to my desk, I spoke with my boss, another Mr. Larson, but since he didn't like being called that, I addressed him by his first name: "Aldo, your brother got me an interview at Miller Group." He smiled: "I know, he just called me. I think you should grab this opportunity. If it doesn't work out, you can always come back." I smiled at him and immediately sent an email to schedule the interview. I quickly received confirmation that the interview would be the next day at ten in the morning, and since I had already taken the initiative to send my resume, the interview would be brief. That night at home, I talked to my parents, who understood, even though they were worried about how I would manage to raise a child alone in another city and got teary-eyed about being far from their grandson. They supported me as always and were happy about the opportunity I received. I asked them not to tell anyone. When Mel arrived - she came every day to see her godson - I told her everything, and she helped me prepare for the next day. At the time of the interview, I went to the meeting room at my workplace; my boss had given me permission. I sat down and waited for the call. I was interviewed by a very kind and intelligent woman, Mrs. Mariana Taylor. It was very pleasant; we talked for two hours. She gave me all the information about the position, salary, and benefits. At the end, she said: "Catherine, you're hired! You'll be replacing me since I'm taking a director position at the London branch, so you'll be taking over my position here. I'd like you to start as soon as possible because I'm leaving in ten days and would like to hand everything over to you before I go. And I'd rather not reschedule my departure. When can you start?" "I just need my boss to release me, but I think I can be there on Monday." - it was already Friday, would Aldo agree to release me today? "Perfect. You can send me an email confirmation after you talk to him. Do you have any questions?" "No, ma'am. Everything is clear." "Great! Welcome to Miller Group. I'm sure you'll do very well. I'll see you on Monday." She ended the call, and my heart was racing - I had done it. The job was great, the salary even better, and I would have chances to progress. It was a dream. But now it was time to rush and sort everything out. I immediately went to talk to my boss. He was happy about it, called accounting, and had them process my settlement right away. After that, he let me go, saying I would always have a place to come back if needed, but he knew I would do very well. I thanked him for everything and left. I sent the confirmation email to Mrs. Taylor, saying I would be at the company at eight on Monday morning, and went straight to talk to Mel and her father - I had to thank them. And that's when Mel surprised me: "Did you think you were going to take my godson away just like that? No way! My father got me an interview at Lynx World in Paradise Port. I'm moving with you, and we'll live together. What do you think?" This was perfect! I was overjoyed, but quickly asked: "Mel, what about Fred?" "Fred has already requested a transfer to the Paradise Port branch at his company; he'll have better opportunities there too. He's coming in fifteen days. Friend, it's a new life for all three of us." I was so happy. Mel had orchestrated everything. Fred would drive us there, and she would take care of Peter while I worked until we found a daycare. She already had three daycares to visit, and her father had already made available a furnished apartment in the city for us. It was too good to be true; I was even scared. Noticing this, Mel nudged me and said: "Learn to accept the good things life offers you!" I smiled at her, and we went to my parents' house. It was time to break the news and say goodbye. Paradise Port is on the other side of the country, so we wouldn't see each other for a while. My parents were happy until I said I would leave the next morning - then the farewell became sad. It was hard to leave them behind, but it was necessary. With the salary I would receive, I could help them now. That was good. The next morning, Fred and Mel arrived right on time. Mel's father had given her a pickup truck as a gift, which made moving our stuff much easier. Fred loaded everything into the truck, and off we went - it would be a full day on the road. We arrived in Paradise Port late Saturday night. Peter was exhausted but had enjoyed himself immensely during the trip - everything was new and exciting to him. We got settled in, ordered some food, and after eating, went to bed. On Sunday, we explored the city to get our bearings. Paradise Port was a huge, modern industrial city on the coast. Its port attracted lots of business, making it a first-world urban center. The apartment where we would be living was close to one of the daycares Mel had contacted, which was great. It wasn't far from the company either - I could get there in twenty minutes by subway. The apartment was beautiful, with a modern design, great ventilation, and huge windows that let in plenty of natural light. That evening, we dropped Fred off at the airport and headed home to rest. The next day would be a big one - I would be starting my new job, while Mel had her virtual interview and would schedule a meeting with the director of the daycare near our apartment to visit and talk. I tucked my son into bed; he was worn out from all the fun he'd had today. As I watched him sleeping peacefully, I felt confident that we would have a really good life here. Peter now had his own room, and Mel and I had planned to buy some things to make it feel more personal and give it our own touch. I grabbed the baby monitor and went to my room. I opened one of my boxes and started organizing everything. When I opened the last box, I took out the box containing my memories from the ball night. I opened it, ran my hand over that beautiful dress, and sighed once again. I picked up the perfume and thought, "Why not?" Starting tomorrow, I would wear this perfume every day - my salary was good, and when this bottle ran out, I could buy another. I put the box away, left the perfume on the dresser, and went to bed full of expectations for this new life that was opening up before me. Chapter 5 I showed up at the company at 8:00 a.m. Mrs. Taylor gave me a warm welcome and introduced me to everyone, and they were all very kind. The boss wasn't there - he was traveling and would return at the end of the week. The office was beautiful, very modern, decorated in white with stainless steel and green accents, managing to be both professional and welcoming. It was elegant, and I really liked it. I was particularly glad I had chosen to wear a black suit with a dark green silk blouse underneath and black heels. I would need to dress elegantly every day now, after all, I would be working directly with the company president. Mid-morning, I received a message from Mel saying she had managed to schedule an appointment with the director of the daycare near our apartment during lunch hour. I explained the situation to Mrs. Taylor and asked if it would be possible to leave during that time, assuring her I would be back on schedule. "So you have a child. How old is he?" she asked with a smile. "He's two years old. He's a very clever little boy. He wasn't planned, but he's the reason for my life!" "What's his name?" "Peter." "Peter. A strong name. You're not married, I know that, but what about your son's father, are you still together?" My heart sank - how could I explain to her that I didn't know who the father was? But I don't lie, so let's face the truth. I told her that Peter's father was someone I met at a party and never saw again. She looked at me seriously, but there was no judgment in her eyes. Then she said: "You have my respect, Catherine. It's not easy being a single mother, and it's very difficult to tell truths like this when you know they might trigger others' judgment. Thank you for your trust and honesty. Go take care of the daycare arrangements for your son, we'll continue this afternoon - no need to rush." I thanked her and said goodbye, heading off to meet Mel and Peter. My admiration and respect for Mrs. Taylor only grew. She's a woman in her mid-fifties, with very light blonde hair and almost transparent blue eyes. She's a beautiful and elegant woman, but most importantly, she's very welcoming. We got along very well. During the rest of the morning, she filled me in with information about the work, and I took notes on everything. At lunchtime, I left the building, and Mel was already waiting at the door with Peter. I got in the car, and we went to lunch before heading to the daycare. Mel and I loved the daycare, and Peter was already fitting in, running around with his new little friends - he's such an outgoing boy. That made me so happy! My son was happy! We decided not to look at other daycares since this one was excellent and very close to home, just three blocks away. We completed the enrollment and sorted out all the details. The director suggested we let Peter stay until the end of the day since he was having fun and could start adapting. Mel agreed to pick him up at the end of the day. Mel dropped me back at the company and told me she'd head home to prepare for her job interview later in the afternoon. I returned to my office, arriving before Mrs. Taylor. I sat at the desk and started reviewing everything she had already told me. The phone on the desk rang, and I wasn't sure what to do, but since this would be my desk, I answered in my most professional voice: "Miller Group, Executive Office, good afternoon, how may I help you?" I heard a deathly silence on the other end followed by a long sigh. Someone spoke up with obvious impatience, in a strong and slightly hoarse voice: "Put Mariana on." I was startled but kept my composure and replied: "I'm sorry, sir, but Mrs. Taylor hasn't returned from lunch yet. May I help you, or would you like to leave a message?" "Who is this speaking," he asked, even more impatiently. "My name is Catherine, I'm Mr. Miller's new executive assistant." "But I don't know you," he seemed to grow more impatient with each word. "It's my first day here, sir. Would you like to leave a message?" "Tell Mariana to call me as soon as she sets foot in the office." "Certainly, sir. And your name is?" "Looks like I'm your boss!" He snapped and hung up. Wow, what a stressed-out man! This wasn't in the job description. My throat immediately tightened. Had I already made a bad impression on my boss? I was so screwed! I started thinking I wouldn't last long in this job. Shortly after, Mrs. Taylor arrived and I passed on the message with a worried look on my face. She looked at me with a smile, as if understanding my concern, and asked: "Was he calm?" I looked at her and couldn't help myself: "He was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I'm pretty sure I could see his jugular vein popping out of his neck." She burst out laughing and then said: "You two are going to get along great! You'll tame the beast, I'm sure of it." I wasn't so sure about that. Maybe I shouldn't even unpack my bags, this man was going to eat me alive! | LEARN_MORE | https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17966&u | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 375 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | redtgb.com | VIDEO | https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17966&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475771615_1667196610862051_3092734711556473158_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=wVwmLPrfmbEQ7kNvgEDaZ0S&_nc_oc=AdifDEms_y8oEV-hCntc3181DDu2_G3D8fMHZjFwJyYNkmayYq97xWoZJlhdyJb80UkSyFZG2FzNpf3VHYX89IVe&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A9jhS9JghWareyqwtK4rUsv&oh=00_AYDkuBoM0IYto965H006HZuRrbBhyUYRsUSfIF-0LB4PvA&oe=67CBD60B | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 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 | Hello Read | https://www.facebook.com/61550873765205/ | 1,009 | 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=638434121690371&exdata=C46BD16AC307897527EED4152EB041A415B5B48AFACB8F0F | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475399492_1037930611430784_8463005202441800714_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=qn9xToIFlJIQ7kNvgHytqRp&_nc_oc=AdiVumu6UHLUcLrwtBuQeOlo_jtOksc26uMw2g3HL5mKl6OwdeZJrbpwsSrnwwerhvG-cIx8UCbzqShX2-P_Nr-_&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AEbpNqY8WY8IsUXX5MAY6Pv&oh=00_AYAb_cqriuSLKpcyyTcJ4Wu2jb7bZpIIlHhte5eDNX2osg&oe=67CBB944 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Hello Read | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2025-03-03 12:18 | active | 2772 | 0 | 😍Read the next chapters👉 | After signing the agreement, Isabella Jones stepped out and happened to catch a live interview with Samuel Grant on the news. The host asked, "Mr. Grant, you're so young and accomplished. What's your secret to success?" Samuel raised his left hand and pointed to the wedding ring on his ring finger. "The secret is simple. I have a wonderful wife." The host blinked in surprise. "Oh? I thought you'd share some insights about the industry and your future plans instead." "That's not important. All the wealth I have right now doesn't compare to even a single strand of my wife's hair." "Wow, I really envy your wife…" On the screen, Samuel glanced at his watch, then smiled at the camera. "Sorry, we'll have to pause the interview for a moment. Time's almost up. I'd like to use this live broadcast to say something to my wife." "Of course, Mr. Grant. Go ahead." Samuel's voice softened. "Bella, I just had someone bring you some ginger tea with honey. It should be arriving soon. Drink it and get some good rest. I'll give you a massage when I get home." Around her, a few young women gathered, watching the live broadcast on the big screen. They couldn't help but murmur in envy. "Who is Mr. Grant's wife? To have a man like him so completely devoted…" "That's so sweet! He dotes on her so much! Ugh, I'm so jealous!" The sound of admiring voices filled Isabella's ears. Yet, the person in question remained silent, smiling mockingly. Everyone thought she was the lucky one, that in a past life, she must have saved the entire galaxy to have married a man like Samuel. She used to think so too. But no one knew that Samuel had another woman on the side. They had been married for five years, and for four and a half of them, Samuel had been seeing this other woman. Every time he said he was on a business trip, he was really with her, indulging in passion and unrestrained affection. Isabella still remembered the first time she had seen those videos. Her heart felt like it had been pierced a thousand times with needles—pulled out and stabbed again and again. By the end, it was shattered and broken beyond repair. She also remembered when she was bullied in school. Samuel had stepped in, shielding her from the torment and fiercely teaching the bullies a lesson. He had told her, "Don't be afraid. I'll protect you from now on." There was another time, when they were driving, and an out-of-control truck came barreling toward them. Samuel's first instinct was to throw himself in front of her, shielding her with his own body. He ended up in the hospital for over six months, barely surviving, almost becoming a vegetable. When he finally woke up, his first words were to ask the nurse, "Is Bella okay?" When the nurse confirmed she was fine, he let out a sigh of relief and said, "As long as Bella is fine, it doesn't matter what happens to me." That was the moment Isabella truly fell in love with him—the man who would risk his life to protect hers. She didn't understand it. How could Samuel claim to love her while shamelessly sleeping with another woman? Was it true that men could separate love from desire? Isabella gently touched the wedding ring on her finger before taking it off. She walked past a disabled beggar sitting by the roadside, his empty tin cup containing only a few coins. Isabella approached him and dropped the ring into his cup. "Sell this. The money from it will be enough to buy a house and start a small business." The beggar thanked her repeatedly. In truth, Isabella had put it rather mildly. The ring was a custom design by a foreign jeweler, and the diamonds alone were worth millions. But now, she didn't want it anymore. If a wedding ring symbolized love and loyalty, then her wedding ring was worth nothing right now. Her phone rang—it was Samuel. "Bella, where are you? The person with the ginger tea and honey came to the house, but you weren't there." His voice was urgent, like he was genuinely worried about her. Isabella replied flatly, "I just stepped out for a walk." "Where are you now? I'll come pick you up right away." "No need, I'll be home soon." "No, you're on your period. I can't just leave you alone." Samuel arrived within five minutes. He rushed out of the car, quickly removed his coat, and draped it over her shoulders before pulling her into his arms. "Why are you dressed so lightly? You can't get cold when you're on your period." As Isabella looked up at him in his embrace, she noticed several fresh, red marks around his throat. They were recent. There were also teeth imprints. His clothes smelled faintly of a woman's perfume. So, he had just left Jennifer Lewis's bed before heading to the interview. As Samuel gently rubbed her fingers, he suddenly exclaimed in surprise, "Bella, where's your wedding ring?" Chapter 2 Isabella pulled her hand out of Samuel's grasp. "Maybe I lost it when I left the house this morning." Samuel immediately reached for his phone to dial a number. "I'll have someone go look for it right now." Isabella shook her head. "No need. Just consider it lost." "How can you just let it go? This ring is our wedding ring—it's proof of our love." Proof of their love? Their love had already been shattered beyond recognition by his countless betrayals. Isabella laughed softly. "It's just a piece of jewelry. It doesn't guarantee love." Samuel insisted, "Diamonds are the hardest thing on Earth. It represents my unchanging heart for you." "And what if one day, you betray me?" "That's impossible." "I'm asking, what if?" Samuel looked at her, his gaze sincere, even solemn. He swore, "If I ever betray you, let me be pierced by a thousand arrows and die a painful death." Isabella turned her face away, not wanting to see the fake earnesty in his eyes. Back when she still loved him, hearing him make such an earnest vow would've made her rush to cover his mouth, worried that she was pushing him too far, forcing him to swear like that. But now, she didn't love him anymore, and his words only sounded like a joke. "Bella." Samuel wrapped his arms around her from behind, his voice tinged with a hint of complaint. "Why do I feel like something's off lately? You've been so distant." "I haven't." "You have," he insisted. "Bella, is it because I've been too busy and haven't had time for you? Are you upset with me?" "I told you, I'm not," she said. "Let go of me." "I won't," he said, pulling her closer. "Next week is our fifth wedding anniversary, Bella. I've prepared a surprise for you..." Just then, his phone rang. Samuel immediately released her and pulled out his phone, glancing at the screen. From Isabella's point of view, she saw him smirk, a mischievous glint in his eyes, as his gaze on the screen turned suddenly suggestive. He quickly typed a reply. Then, he looked at her with a slight apology and said, "Bella, there's an urgent matter at the company. I need to head out right now." There was still a flicker of hope inside Isabella. "When will you be back?" Samuel wrapped an arm around her, kissing her gently on the forehead. "I might not be back tonight. But tomorrow morning, I'll bring you your favorite pastries, okay?" Just like that, he was gone. His tablet was still on the couch in the living room. Isabella picked it up, noticing that his WhatsApp was still logged in. Two minutes ago, a woman under the name "Little Tease" had sent him a picture. The woman was dressed in a bunny girl outfit—black fishnet stockings and bright red high heels. Her eyes were half-lidded, her cheeks flushed, and she was licking her fingers seductively. Samuel: Want more? Little Tease: It's so lonely and empty when you're not here, Master. Samuel: I gave you love seven times today. Isn't that enough? Little Tease: Are you coming over, Master? I'm yours tonight, do whatever you want… Samuel's reply was short. Samuel: I'm coming. Isabella turned the tablet off, her heart sinking as she closed her eyes in pain. She thought she had stopped caring, but seeing those messages again felt like a brutal punch to the gut. Tears rolled down her cheeks, hot and relentless. She didn't know when she fell asleep, but all she could remember was dreaming of a man and a woman rolling in the sheets together. The man's face was Samuel's. Just then, her phone vibrated. She opened it to find a video. The scene in the video mirrored the one in her dream perfectly. The man and woman were passionately tangled together, even more intensely than in her dream. Samuel's face was twisted in lust, and she felt nothing but disgust. Jennifer: Have you ever seen him like this? He says he can only let himself go like this with me. The short, one-minute video quickly ended. And then, it looped. Again, and again. Isabella watched it like it was some kind of self-inflicted punishment, over and over again. She needed to make herself see Samuel for what he was right now, to strip away the last shred of love she had for him, and finally drive him out of her heart. Her lawyer had already drafted the divorce papers. She wiped away her tears, then carefully placed the divorce papers into a delicate gift box and tied a ribbon around it. Samuel didn't return until the next afternoon, carrying a box of pastries. "Sweetheart, I promised to bring you these—your favorite pastries. Aren't you happy?" Isabella gave him a distracted hum. Noticing the redness around her eyes, Samuel gently cupped her face, kissing away the tears. "Why are you crying? Who upset my precious wife? Tell me, and I'll make sure they pay for it." He still carried that sickly-sweet scent of someone who had just indulged in an affair, mixed with the faint traces of another woman's perfume. It made her stomach churn. Isabella pushed his hand away, creating some space between them. "No one," she replied flatly. "I just watched a really touching movie last night." Samuel pulled her into his arms, his voice full of concern. "Don't watch them alone anymore. Let me watch them with you next time." Watch with her? He was too busy giving all his time to Jennifer. Isabella suddenly wanted to ask him if he even had time to spend with her anymore. Samuel pointed to the delicate gift box on the coffee table, his face lighting up with surprise. "Bella, is this for me?" Isabella nodded. "You said you had a surprise for me for our fifth wedding anniversary, right? Well, I have a surprise for you, too." Samuel looked thrilled, holding the gift box like it was the most precious thing. "Can I open it now?" Isabella said. "Our anniversary is a week from now. You can open it then." Chapter 3 Samuel thought for a moment, then nodded with a patient smile. "Okay, let's open our surprises together. It'll be more meaningful that way." Isabella suddenly had the urge to see Samuel's reaction when he found out she had passed away and when he saw the divorce papers after. Would he be shocked, confused, or... surprised? Samuel, ever the charmer, tried to cheer her up. "I heard there's a good movie out. How about I take you to see it?" Isabella wasn't interested, but the theater he mentioned was right next to their old high school. It was the place where he had confessed his love to her for the first time. Back in their school days, they spent countless romantic, sweet moments on the street behind the school. It was a place that witnessed the happiest days of their love. Since that was where it all began, it might as well be where it ended. When they arrived at the theater, it was a little crowded. Samuel wrapped his arm around her protectively, pulling her close to shield her from the pressing crowd. Among the crowd, a few young women recognized them. "Hey, isn't that Mr. Grant? The woman he's holding is his wife, right? She's so beautiful!" "How does someone like Mr. Grant even exist? He's so handsome and devoted." "They're such a perfect match. They really do look amazing together." Samuel continued to protectively lead her to their seats. Then, he carefully helped her out of her jacket and held it for her. The theater manager, Isaac Smith, approached them with a wide grin, carrying a hand warmer and a cup of ginger tea with honey. "Mr. Grant, we heard that Mrs. Grant is going through a special time right now. We've prepared these just as you asked. Please let us know if you need anything else." Samuel took the items from him. He placed the hand warmer on her belly, and then handed her the tea. "The temperature's just right. Would you like a sip, Bella?" Isabella mechanically accepted his care, remaining silent the entire time. Samuel frowned slightly, then turned to Isaac. "Go and get some snacks, but nothing too greasy, spicy, or sweet. Bella doesn't like those." "Of course, Mr. Grant, I'll be right back." Isaac hurried off. The movie's opening credits began on the big screen. Just then, a woman approached Isabella's side and quietly said, "Excuse me, my seat is inside. Could you please let me through?" The lights in the theater had already dimmed, and Isabella didn't immediately realize what was happening. She quickly moved aside, letting the woman pass. It wasn't until the woman walked past her and then Samuel, finally settling in the seat next to him, that Isabella understood. She suddenly realized that the voice she had just heard was so familiar—it was the same voice from the video. The woman was Jennifer, the same girl who had been tangled up with Samuel in the video. At the next moment, the cup in Jennifer's hand tilted. The entire drink spilled across Samuel's stomach. "Oh, sorry... I'm so sorry!" Jennifer apologized, fumbling for a napkin from her bag to help him wipe it off. The dampness was on his stomach, but her hands kept sliding down, pressing in places that made Isabella's stomach churn. At the same time, Isabella could clearly feel the arm around her shoulders suddenly tighten. Along with that, his whole body tensed up. Out of the corner of her eye, Isabella glanced at Samuel's lower part. Jennifer's hand was underneath, with Samuel's hand firmly pressing down on hers, his gaze seeming to warn her not to cause trouble. But Jennifer continued to act as though nothing was wrong. She continued smiling and wiping. "Sir, how about I just buy you a new pair of pants?" "No need," Samuel's voice had turned rough and strained. The movie started. It was an animated film—the animals were cute, and the plot was funny. But Isabella couldn't focus on it at all. Ten minutes into the movie, Samuel suddenly stood up. "Bella, Isaac doesn't know what snacks you like. I'll go check." He still held her coat in his hand, draped over his forearm, covering the obvious state on the lower half of his body. As he walked away, Jennifer stood up as well and followed him. When she passed by Isabella, she flashed a disdainful smirk and shot her a quick glance. The look seemed to say: See? He chose me. Five minutes later, Isabella received a text: [Women's restroom.] She quickly left the theater and headed to the restroom at the end of the hallway. From the first stall in the women's restroom, she could hear muffled groans and faint pleas—no doubt Jennifer's voice. And the man's voice... Isabella knew it all too well. She stood frozen, rooted to the spot, unable to move. The noise from the stall grew louder, and the woman let out a sharp cry. Then, Samuel's mocking voice came, "Is that all you can handle? You chased after me to the theater, and this is how you perform?" Jennifer whimpered, and it was hard to tell if she was crying or laughing. "I miss you... I just can't stand seeing you with her." Samuel's tone cooled slightly. "I can give you everything else, but our affair can't be dragged in front of Bella. You've crossed the line tonight." "Okay, I get it. But don't you think it's exciting to be in a dark theater like this? It's a thrill." He chuckled softly. "It is a bit." "Then… should we continue tonight?" His voice was hoarse and strained. "I'll buy tickets in a bit for the midnight show." "Make sure it's the last row, okay? That way we won't have to hide in the bathroom... We can just be in our seats…" Not far off, Isaac hurried over. But he wasn't holding snacks—he had a small square box in his hands. He quietly called out near the women's restroom door, "Mr. Grant, I've bought the thing you asked for." The noise inside finally quieted for a moment, and Samuel appeared at the door. Isabella quickly stepped behind a pillar, her heart racing. Samuel chuckled lightly. "That was fast." "Of course, the movie's short—only three hours. Can't waste a moment of your special time," Isaac replied. Samuel sounded pleased. "Take good care of Bella. Don't let her notice anything unusual, understood?" "You can count on me, Mr. Grant. Mrs. Grant is so innocent. Women like her are easy to please—she'll believe anything you tell her." Isabella fled as if running for her life. Back in her seat, she let herself cry for a few minutes. But then, she forced herself to stop. This was the last time. This was the last time she would cry for Samuel. But it wasn't really for him. It was for the pure-hearted boy in her memories, the one who had only eyes for her. The man with her now was nothing like that boy anymore. And since he wasn't, she wouldn't hold onto him anymore. Chapter 4 Samuel didn't return until the movie was almost over. He still smelled of that sickly-sweet, pungent scent. In addition to that, he brought a box of popcorn. "Bella, I'm sorry I'm late. The popcorn machine broke down at the theater, and they spent forever fixing it. It's freshly made, though. Eat it while it's warm." Isabella waved her hand. "I don't want any." "Not even the ginger tea with honey?" "I don't want it." "Alright, no food, no drink, then. Let's just watch the movie." Isabella scoffed. "The movie's almost over." "It's all that technician's fault. He took so long to fix the machine." "So, for the last three hours, you've just been waiting for him to fix it?" Samuel nodded earnestly. "Yes. Isaac can vouch for me. If you don't believe me, you can ask him." "No need," Isabella said, grabbing her bag and walking away. Samuel hurried after her, holding her coat and the popcorn. "Bella, just tell me what I did wrong. I'll change, okay? Don't ignore me. I'm scared." "Scared of what?" "Scared that you don't love me anymore." Isabella stopped and turned to face him, looking straight into his eyes. It was he who had betrayed their relationship first. It was he who said one thing and did another. It was he who stopped cherishing her. Since that was the case, she decided to take back everything—her heart, her trust, her love… And her body. She had given a piece of her clothing to Fauxlife Solutions, the agency that was faking her death. She had torn it up, then bit her finger and smeared the blood on it. A week later, he would receive that bloody shirt. And she? She would be gone from his life forever. "Bella, why aren't you saying anything?" Isabella exhaled deeply, her voice flat. "It's just my period. I'm a little tired." "Let me take you home to rest." "Okay." On the way home, Samuel kept trying to talk to her, telling her jokes. But Isabella only responded with, "I'm a bit tired. I want to rest." With that, Samuel fell silent. When they arrived home, he walked her to the bedroom. Isabella asked, "Are you still going to the office tonight to handle work?" Samuel hummed in acknowledgment. "There are a few things left to do. I didn't finish them yesterday, so I'll need to work late tonight." "Then you should go." Isabella turned her back to him as she lay down, sending a silent signal for him to leave. Samuel stood still, not moving. He seemed to sense that something was off, but couldn't quite figure out what was wrong. Isabella suddenly had the urge to play a little prank. She turned to him and said, "Can you not go tonight?" Samuel visibly relaxed. She still depended on him, still acted a little spoiled, and still wanted him close. That meant she hadn't discovered anything. He smiled gently. "Sweetheart, I've already made plans. The executives are all waiting for me. But next week—next week, I'll make time to spend with you, okay?" "Next week?" "Yeah. Isn't next weekend our five-year anniversary? I'm planning a grand ceremony to let everyone in Herswick City know that you're the woman I love most in this life." A grand ceremony? Isabella smiled. That made it all the more exciting. "Alright, then. Go ahead." "You're such a good girl, Bella. I'm leaving, then. It's about time for the meeting, and I can't keep them waiting." Was he in a rush to not keep "them" waiting, or to not keep "her" waiting? Samuel hurried out. The tablet on the couch began vibrating again. They were in touch once more. Samuel: Are you ready? Jennifer sent a picture. This time, she was in a nurse's uniform. Of course, not the proper kind—what should be exposed was, and what shouldn't was also exposed. Samuel: I'll make sure you scream tonight. Isabella turned off the tablet and began gathering her things. Her clothes, her purse, her shoes—everything Samuel had ever given her over the years. Then, she went into the closet and continued pulling things out. Her hand paused for a moment when she touched a metal box. Inside the box were the letters Samuel had written to her—there was a thick stack of them. When they first got together, he wrote, [From today, Bella is my one true love.] On his birthday, he wrote, [My birthday wish is to spend a lifetime loving Bella and growing old together.] For Isabella's 20th birthday, he wrote, [My darling Bella is of legal age now, I can't wait to marry you.] On their wedding day, he wrote, [To the most beautiful and lovable Princess Bella, welcome to my world.] Isabella didn't care to look at the rest. She took all the letters outside and burned them, letting the fire consume them completely. The next morning, she was woken by the sound of Samuel entering the room. He sounded angry. "Bella, our wedding ring was stolen by a beggar, and he sold it at a pawn shop!" Isabella felt a pang of disappointment. How did he find it? "And he sold it for only 10,000! It's such an insult to our ring!" He came over, took her hand, and tried to put the ring back on her finger. "Now, let's return it to its rightful owner…" Isabella pulled her hand back, refusing to wear the ring again. Samuel seemed confused. "Bella, what's wrong?" "It's nothing, I just... I've gained a bit of weight recently, and the ring doesn't fit anymore." Samuel laughed. "That's okay. I'll take it to the jeweler to resize it for you." "Whatever," Isabella replied, then asked, "You didn't do anything to that beggar, did you?" Samuel came closer and hugged her. "Don't worry. I know how kind-hearted you are, Bella. You wouldn't want to see the beggar suffer. I didn't hold him accountable." "Maybe we should give him some more money. He's pitiful." "Alright, I'll give him another 10,000 later." Just then, Isabella's phone rang, and she answered it. "Hello, Ms. Jones, this is Fauxlife Solutions. We've completed the new identification documents as per your request. Are you available to pick them up?" "Sure, send me the address." "I'll send the location to your phone shortly." "By the way, will the new documents allow me to purchase flight tickets?" "Don't worry, they will be fully valid for that." "Okay, thank you." After Isabella hung up the call, Samuel suddenly seemed anxious and wrapped his arms around her. "Bella, what's this about new documents? Flight tickets? Are you leaving? Where are you going?" Chapter 5 Being held by Samuel used to feel like happiness. But now, Isabella only felt discomfort. She broke free from his embrace and stepped away from him, putting a few paces between them. Samuel seemed even more panicked and rushed after her. "Bella, do you want to go on a trip? Next week, I promise I'll clear my schedule and spend all my time with you. Don't be mad. Don't leave me, okay?" Isabella only felt a cold emptiness inside. The man who was begging her not to leave, pleading like this—was he the real Samuel? Or was it the man she had seen on the video, tangled up with Jennifer? Isabella couldn't tell anymore. But it didn't matter. Soon, she would leave him forever. Whether she knew which version of him was real, it wouldn't make any difference. She spoke flatly, "You're overthinking. Didn't you say we're having a ceremony for our anniversary?" Samuel still didn't believe it and continued to pester her. "But what about the new documents you mentioned? What documents did you get? You even asked about flight tickets." "It's for a classmate of mine. She lost her documents and couldn't buy a ticket. She needs to get new ones." "Which classmate?" "…You don't know her." "I know all your classmates." Isabella changed the subject. "Enough about me. What about you? Did you finish everything at work last night?" "Almost." Before he could finish, his phone rang again. Isabella was already used to Jennifer calling him and dragging him away. No matter what, Samuel was going to leave. So, she walked away and sat on the couch to wait. She heard Samuel's quiet reprimand. "I've told you already, don't call me when I'm at home!" On the other end of the phone, she could hear a woman crying softly. Then, Samuel sneaked a peak at Isabella guiltily. "…Fine. I'll come over now." After hanging up, Samuel hesitated before speaking again. "Bella, there's a small issue at the company that is leftover from last night... I have to take care of it." Isabella nodded immediately. "Go ahead. Work's been busy lately. I understand." Samuel hurriedly left once again. Isabella held her phone. She was waiting to see what shocking video Jennifer would send her next. As expected, Jennifer's message came quickly. This time, it was a photo—a hospital checkup form. [Jennifer Lewis, four weeks pregnant, threatened miscarriage] Jennifer: Last night at the theater was too much fun, and the baby's showing signs of miscarriage. The hospital says the baby's father needs to be there to sign the forms. Sorry, Mrs. Grant, but your husband belongs to me again today! Jennifer was pregnant?! Isabella held the phone tightly, staring at the pregnancy test results. She couldn't snap out of it. Jennifer: I forgot to tell you, for the next week, he'll still be mine. He promised to go to Hawaii with me to celebrate our little baby. Jennifer: He's leaving the room to give you a call. Be prepared, Mrs. Grant. The way she said "Mrs. Grant" was filled with a hint of provocation. Almost immediately, Isabella's phone rang. The screen displayed the word [Honey]. She took a deep breath and answered. "Bella, I'm sorry. Something came up at work, and I need to go on a business trip-" Before he could finish, Isabella interrupted him directly. "Go ahead." Samuel continued apologizing, "Bella, don't worry. I'll be back for our anniversary. And the wedding ring—the symbol of our love—I'll put it back on you during the ceremony." "Samuel, do you love me?" "Of course! You're the only woman I've ever loved in this life." Isabella replied, "If one day, you betray our love, I will leave you. Forever." Samuel laughed like he had just heard a joke. He chuckled and said, "I won't ever give you that chance." "I'm serious. I'm not joking. If I ever find out, you'll never find me again." "As long as you're Isabella Jones, it doesn't matter where you go. Even if you run to the end of the world, I'll always find you." "Really? What if I'm not Isabella Jones anymore?" Samuel's smile widened, and his voice was lazy and indulgent. "How could you not be Isabella? Alright, Bella, don't overthink things. I'll only ever love you. One week from now, I'll be back to spend time with you." Ten minutes later, the staff from Fauxlife Solutions sent her an address. When Isabella arrived, the staff handed her a stack of documents. "Ms. Jones, from today on, this is your new identity." She flipped through the papers. Her new name was Elysia Farrow. Elysia was a beautiful name associated with "parting"—she was about to leave Samuel forever. She had chosen this name for herself. From now on, there would be no more Isabella Jones. There would only be Elysia Farrow. "Ms. Jones… I mean, Ms. Farrow, we've also booked your ticket. It's for next Saturday at 10 a.m. to Frosthaven." Isabella gathered the documents and nodded, thanking the staff. "Thank you. I'll transfer the full commission to your company's account later." "Ms. Farrow, you still have a week to reconsider. If you change your mind, we won't charge you any fees." "No," Isabella stood up, her tone firm. "I won't change my mind." Chapter 6 In the following days, messages from Samuel and Jennifer kept coming in. Three days before their anniversary, Isabella checked her messages. Jennifer: The sea breeze in Hawaii is so nice! The seafood is delicious too, but he says I can't eat seafood because I'm pregnant. So, he ran really far to buy me Eastern food! Attached was a picture of a Hawaiian beach scene. There was the sand and a coconut grove. Not far away, Samuel was opening a take-out box. Samuel: There are so few choices of Eastern food here. I had to travel far to find some. Bella, what did you eat today? Isabella had spent the day with her close friends. They had a barbeque and had a great time. After all, she was about to change her identity and leave. It would be hard to see them again, so she wanted to cherish this last time. Two days before their anniversary, Isabella's phone vibrated with incoming messages. Jennifer: The baby is only a month old, and he's already studying early childhood education. He's going to be such a great first-time dad! The attached photo was of Samuel's desk, stacked high with books. Isabella skimmed the titles—Baby Prenatal Education Guide, The Wisdom of Early Education, and so on. Samuel: Bella, I spent the whole day reading books. I've learned a lot. What about you? What did you do today? Isabella had gone to the bank. She exchanged all the funds from her account into foreign currency, withdrew cash, and closed all the bank cards under the name "Isabella Jones". One day before their anniversary, Isabella glanced at her phone. Jennifer: He's so sweet and caring. He doesn't want anyone else to touch my clothes while I'm pregnant, so he's washing them himself. Look! The attached photo was of Samuel, busy in the laundry room. Samuel: I didn't realize how exhausting laundry is. I think I'll leave it to the maid from now on. I don't want my darling wife working so hard. Isabella laughed. For five years of marriage, she had washed all of his clothes by hand. And now, he was washing clothes for another woman. How ironic. Just then, the charity organization arrived. Isabella carefully cleaned and packed her old clothes, handing them all over to the charity. When she came back and saw the house nearly empty, she felt a sense of lightness she had never experienced before. It turned out that the end of love was just a moment's decision. Once she stopped loving him, she could be so carefree. - The night before their anniversary, Isabella went to the mountaintop alone. She just looked up at the vast night sky, dotted with stars, the crescent moon hanging low. It was beautiful. When she received Samuel's call, it was already late. He sounded happy. "Bella, I've just landed. I'll be home soon. I'll bring you some snacks, how about it?" "I'm not home." "It's so late. Where are you?" "On the mountaintop." "What are you doing on the mountaintop?" "Watching the stars." "Wait for me, I'll come right now…" Suddenly, there was a loud noise on the other end of the line. It sounded like a woman was speaking. Samuel snapped something in a low voice. The woman seemed persistent, and Samuel didn't say anything for a long while. Then, Isabella heard what seemed to be the sound of a kiss. Isabella sneered. "Samuel, are you still coming?" His voice was somewhat hoarse as he said, "Bella, starting tomorrow, I'll be with you all the time. I just need to go to the office tonight and wrap things up. After that, I can focus on being with you. How does that sound?" Isabella laughed. "Sounds good." "My darling wife is so understanding. Let's meet at the ceremony venue tomorrow. Oh, and don't forget the gift you got me. I'm really looking forward to the surprise you've prepared." "Samuel," Isabella called him one last time. "What is it?" "It's nothing." Nothing at all. From now on, Isabella Jones no longer existed in this world. After descending the mountain, she hailed a taxi. "Hello, sir. To the airport, please." The driver noticed she was alone and asked with concern, "Miss, where's your luggage? I can help you with it." "I don't have any luggage. Just drive." All she had was a passport and a flight ticket. Everything else was donated or burned. Anything related to the name "Isabella Jones" had already been taken care of. Thirty minutes later, the car stopped at the airport entrance. Isabella transferred all the money from her phone to the driver. The driver looked flustered. "Miss, you transferred the wrong amount. It's 30 dollars, not 30 thousand! Let me send it back to you-" "It's fine. Thank you for the ride." She got out of the car and tossed her phone into the trash. Without looking back, she walked into the terminal. | LEARN_MORE | https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 | Happyday | https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/ | 1,663 | 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=18282&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/477782711_1139387747884468_6874344927233136392_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=yJ0S7rBKbrsQ7kNvgEJfr24&_nc_oc=AdirqoJOvtlth2MGYq1rHCjZb80Bx2JK_W9oApiqRZ3U6dTPPkMsJR4jNOw4VBmCajwRIM2M9fDJbqbRNmEPH8De&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aba8EO-J66IxH5oSWJXdRAL&oh=00_AYB8opkyhgQQjilgIxyi-h4JmooG2hwgdM8mwiJqx1tQrA&oe=67CBCDC4 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Happyday | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2025-03-03 12:18 | active | 2772 | 0 | Rewire Your ADHD Brain & Unlock Your Potential | Adults with ADHD may find it challenging to focus and prioritize, leading to missed deadlines and low productivity. The inability to control impulses can range from impatience waiting in line or driving in traffic to mood swings and outbursts of anger. Effecto personalized plan helps to: ✔️ Improve focus ✔️ Achieve goals ✔️ Boost productivity ✔️ Improve mood Want a proven, personalized plan to improve focus, manage the overwhelm and create your ultimate routine? Take this short quiz 👇 | LEARN_MORE | https://effecto.app/start?lp=ad5&locale=EN_US | Effecto | https://www.facebook.com/100087423606578/ | 15,593 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | effecto.app | VIDEO | https://effecto.app/start?lp=ad5&locale=EN_US | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468285542_1117324980101865_3567068353359441125_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=mIZVB3MHvvMQ7kNvgGU5hjB&_nc_oc=AdgOfxdhSDR7FEisQ6gysOAVEzvFbSdTdgBdv-65I_o8DDZAmNPePP847sV2Y3Q_t2BW84TRbNnQ3Ew9Bj7xMdcj&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AM9TEUUZejEUCGXSS3FM8Ss&oh=00_AYAl7Plm72YXkynvMDmorhU0btSLBiOuMZIljLQfzNRRlw&oe=67CBBD9C | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Effecto | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete |
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