Confucius Ads Library: Ads

Id	Vlad	Saved	Scrape Time	Status	Scrape Result	Title	Body	Cta Type	Link Url	Page Name	Page Profile Uri	Page Like Count	Enddate	Cta Text	Caption	Display Format	Link Description	Link Url	Creation Time	Page Profile Picture Url	Page Entity Type	Current Page Name	Startdate	Actions
2,747,458	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2747457}'	Yes	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	날 해고해? 망하고나서 울고불고하지 마	실리콘밸리 최고의 기술 천재인 에릭은 대표의 아들 윌리엄에게 해고당한 후, 전 직장의 경쟁사 대표이자 매력적인 여성인 에블린과 손을 잡는다. 하여 에릭의 전 직장은 파산 위기에 처하게 되고 윌리엄은 그제야 자신이 실수한 걸 깨닫지만 이미 모든 것이 늦어버린 뒤였다.	WATCH_MORE	https://w2a.reelshort.com/w2a/booksAdvPageV2/?book	ReelShort	https://www.facebook.com/reelshortapp/	1,252,440	1969-12-31 18:00	Watch more	w2a.reelshort.com	VIDEO		https://w2a.reelshort.com/w2a/booksAdvPageV2/?book_id=678a202609669df8c00d2715&chapterId=ahyo8d8rco&chapterIndex=1&mediaType=fb&px=2674%253A41782236683&push_type=2&book_type=1&campaign_id={{campaign.id}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/482016069_1901953467001463_4834575609947400770_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=TSXaDIFfLGgQ7kNvgGpE2u6&_nc_oc=Adi2tQTXAomDROs0N8oXoVmojILh00NIPsGfK9aR1A-Rb3PFfHZP_6l2mkKXUuHSxiPdTkLdYiCAEwbrxaHFocqr&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Ad6TFJbsrrE3zJGvqaJRXEn&oh=00_AYAGE3pPG2P1unyhLjvgk_6u9Zz0r019JwAtzdAZZmTgFA&oe=67CBB465	PERSON_PROFILE	ReelShort	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,102	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	Guide to the Importance of Magnesium ✨	Did you know that magnesium plays a key role in your health? 🧠💪 Learn more.	LEARN_MORE	https://searchlabz.com/understanding-the-importanc	Finally Media	https://www.facebook.com/100067978975745/	265	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	searchlabz.com	IMAGE	Understanding the importance of magnesium is becoming increasingly crucial in today's health-conscious society. Magnesium serves as a powerhouse mineral essential for over 300 enzymatic reactions, including energy production, muscle and nerve function, and blood sugar regulation. Despite its signifi...	https://searchlabz.com/understanding-the-importance-of-magnesium/?cid=ch15060+ch15066&adtext=Guide to the Importance of Magnesium �&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_medium={{ad.id}}&utm_source=fb&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&fb_pixel_id=1178421023860202&fpcv=Lead&lang=en_US&stid=9319694402	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481320469_2374079402954435_5070664157089357129_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=jnXny-WVuUkQ7kNvgFS7J7r&_nc_oc=AdgUum6gE5T9lVgvW_ND8-26ExxaMrVfsC29WTfQnw1pvki3xtXGTlmKI3sDNoN9T0TkGXHpsfiNwVw1PlcG7TSu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AWoS5QOx-QwgPLtIMHVdqyb&oh=00_AYB6jCTg_O5n5DGgJ9anDGQ1QJ1Sn0iHp0j1pk9UUDDf-A&oe=67CB959E	PERSON_PROFILE	Finally Media	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,399	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	After Divorce, I Owned Three Billionaires	Grace，the heiress Charlton Group, was rescued by Aaron in a kidnapping incident three years ago, but she didn’t see Aaron’s face. A man named Declan claimed he saved Grace, thus Grace married him for gratitude. To help Declan’s business, Grace covertly assisted him from behind. However, when Declan succeeded, he immediately demanded a divorce and prepared to marry Fiona, the heiress of the Charlton Group. Grace tried her best but changed nothing. To her surprise, there were three different billionaires—Aaron, Liam, and Nicolas—vying for her attention after her divorce. Guess what will happen between Grace and three handsome men?	DOWNLOAD	https://www.dramawavew2a.com/ads/0/1723/view?c={{c	DramaWave	https://www.facebook.com/61565741817654/	1,459,969	1969-12-31 18:00	Download	www.dramawavew2a.com	VIDEO		https://www.dramawavew2a.com/ads/0/1723/view?c={{campaign.name}}&af_adset={{adset.name}}&af_ad={{ad.name}}&af_c_id={{campaign.id}}&af_adset_id={{adset.id}}&af_ad_id={{ad.id}}&af_channel={{placement}}&af_dp=We6aeoNN98	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481822610_1765239297655057_456995150888917242_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=f4mQWnoM1ukQ7kNvgGnmjm1&_nc_oc=AdjLFo9dDIQuCpFdYug6Bn4mLh15Fjpjch2VZcWna10j6ogfLiQuxlssHnleJTqlig9qqCY6cENGQw5RmgcBoGg0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A6KscwmZWxf2pjfK2sEYbiL&oh=00_AYDA6WqxPwSgCZ5Z08xOnsfeUAuC7C8CJuYHgIiNsyjQ_Q&oe=67CBAE52	PERSON_PROFILE	DramaWave	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,322	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2747280}'	Yes	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759		Aidan Stein, the Eternal Lord Sovereign of the magnificent Eternity Palace, temporarily loses his memory and intelligence due to his 60-year cycle. He lives alone in Vertania until he encounters Jade Yule, who saves his life and becomes his wife. Years later, Jack Foley, an aristocrat of Vertania, develops an interest in Jade. He sends his men after Aidan, inadvertently triggering the resurgence of his memories and power.	WATCH_MORE	https://fb.dramabox.com/db_land_page/DALPF1052189.	DramaBox- drama movies5	https://www.facebook.com/61550943223936/	12,706	1969-12-31 18:00	Watch more	fb.dramabox.com	VIDEO		https://fb.dramabox.com/db_land_page/DALPF1052189.html?language=en&timestamp=1740755049948&channelCode=DALPF1052189&bid=41000112468&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&ad_group_name={{adset.name}}&ad_group_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481661297_453656387831255_2190461595518775881_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=-iCuU-1aBFcQ7kNvgH2eGEJ&_nc_oc=Adga4eB5FbyS6Q0HH_P4vR9iXZVqfqPoGlt2622-XIT7asHw06YncrN1iu8vyflOlXIleNCat7z2A3KrFslto9qR&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A-nHK1t_Oixzwn5lrhH50wM&oh=00_AYBKxAIuUaEwnQ3DA8co84ZTSFGDEOfRr1Z-Jrp8-KtBOQ&oe=67CBB4AC	PERSON_PROFILE	DramaBox- drama movies5	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,468	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2747469}'	Yes	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	Harvard Exposes: 5 Nerve-Damaging “Toxins” Causing Neuropathy in Seniors Across the U.S.	The burning Nerve Pain turned me into “that grandma” who sits in the corner at parties, until... I discovered what was actually causing it - now I'm leading our family dance circles every weekend, just like I did 40 years ago. "Grandma, why can't you dance with me anymore?" Little Emma's innocent question brought tears to my eyes that Sunday afternoon. The Burning in my feet was so intense, I could barely stand… Let alone dance with my precious granddaughter. It felt like I was Walking on Hot Coals... every single step pure agony. How do you explain to a 6-year-old that Grandma's feet feel like they're on fire? That the same feet that used to chase her around the yard, tend to my garden, and dance at family gatherings... were now betraying me? I smiled through the pain. "Just a little tired, sweetheart." But we both knew it wasn't that. The burning had started slowly – just a slight tingling at first. The kind you brush off, thinking it'll pass. Then came the numbness The thousands of needles The shooting pains Soon, I couldn't even walk to the mailbox without gripping my cane for dear life. But the worst moment? When I had to cancel hosting our weekly dinner because I couldn't stand long enough to cook anymore. The tone in my daughter's face when I called to cancel...that mixture of worry and pity... it broke something inside me. I tried everything the doctors recommended: Medications that left me feeling like a zombie The expensive creams that did nothing to help Even those special socks they said would help Nothing worked. The burning just kept getting worse. "This is just part of aging," they said. "You'll have to learn to live with it." But how do you "live with" feeling like your feet are being blow-torched every single day? How do you accept becoming a prisoner in your own home? Then one Sunday after church… I overheard my friend Martha talking about how Nerve Pain had nearly confined her to a wheelchair. I couldn't believe it – Martha, who now ran the church bake sale, who danced at her grandson's wedding last month… Had suffered from burning feet worse than mine? I cornered her after service, desperate for answers. "Oh honey," she said, seeing me lean heavily on my cane, "I know exactly what you're going through." What she told me next shocked me to my core... She explained how a neurologist had discovered that certain foods we eat every day were creating something called "toxic plaque" in our nerves. This plaque was literally suffocating our nerves from the inside out, causing that terrible burning sensation. "Karen," she said, lowering her voice, "Did you know that one of the most common breakfast foods is actually the worst culprit?" Then she told me about this weird “Pepper” Hack that was helping people flush out these nerve-destroying toxins. I was skeptical at first. After all, I'd tried eliminating everything from sugar to gluten... But Martha grabbed my hands and said something I'll never forget: "Before I learned about this, I was just like you - trapped in my rocking chair, missing out on life. Now look at me! The difference is understanding what's really happening to your nerves." That hit home hard. When she explained how this toxic plaque builds up over time, everything started making sense... Why the pain got progressively worse... Why normal treatments weren't working... Why doctors couldn't seem to help... So I decided to give it a try. After all, what did I have to lose? The first few days, I didn't notice much difference... But by the end of week one, something changed. I realized I'd made it through an entire day without reaching for my pain pills. Then I noticed I could feel the carpet under my feet again. By week three, the constant burning had reduced so much, I actually slept through the night for the first time in months. But the real miracle? Last weekend, when Emma ran up to me asking for our special dance... I was able to take her little hands and twirl her around the living room, without fear, without pain, and without my cane. The look of pure joy on her face – being able to dance with my granddaughter again – I couldn't hold back the tears. But this time, they were tears of joy. My husband says I'm like a different person now. My daughter can't believe the change. And me? I feel like I've gotten my life back. I can garden again. I can cook again. I can be the grandmother I want to be. I'm sharing this because I know there are others out there suffering like I was. Watching their independence slip away... Living in constant fear of every step... Missing precious moments with their family... If that's you, please know there's hope. I've shared a link below to article that explains everything. It's a short read, but it might just change your life like it changed mine. Don't let burning feet steal any more precious moments with your family. You deserve to feel like yourself again. Take Care and God Bless	LEARN_MORE	https://trk.skatrk02.com/67b42a69b88b44fbc273aff9?	Mandy Rogers	https://www.facebook.com/61572661484060/	3,085	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	read.americanhealthjournal.org	IMAGE	THIS IS AN ADVERTORIAL AND NOT AN ACTUAL ARTICLE, BLOG, OR CONSUMER PROTECTION UPDATE.DISCLAIMERThis website is not intended to provide medical advice or to take the place of medical advice and treatment from your personal physician. Visitors are advised to consult their own doctors or other qualifi...	https://trk.skatrk02.com/67b42a69b88b44fbc273aff9?v1=%7B%7Bad.id%7D%7D&v2=%7B%7Badset.id%7D%7D&v3=%7B%7Bcampaign.id%7D%7D&v4=%7B%7Bad.name%7D%7D&v5=%7B%7Badset.name%7D%7D&v6=%7B%7Bcampaign.name%7D%7D&v7=%7B%7Bplacement%7D%7D&v8=%7B%7Bsite_source_name%7D%7D&utm_source=MD-fb-nerve&utm_medium=paid	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480923366_630970432863082_7888530270975360956_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=QyDYdjyKvrMQ7kNvgGLDqm6&_nc_oc=Adj9QDHmXHNOLNytTbRLtHoO7xElCpbEjK78E46sz5a57TK_m7Zqb-iAQpHXeM2vsnZ7I5fUH5vfQVHbP0virfpV&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Awy5cBZtowPTFcLWGkwF-kn&oh=00_AYDIpBSiicd2yd-kpD1tGaXMFvv4stpRuP1nKVepeKneqw&oe=67CBB20D	PERSON_PROFILE	Mandy Rogers	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,476	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2747480}'	No	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	❤️ 10 Books For 50% Off!	“Have you seen my fiancé?” “Last I saw, he was getting on the elevators.” Great. I fish my phone out of my clutch just as it pings. Pollux: I’m in your office, time to pay up. My heart lurches. I slip away from the party, weave through the lingering crowd, and step onto the elevator. The ride seems endless before the doors finally open onto my floor. The corridor is dark, only faint light from the city filtering through the windows. I nudge my office door open, breath held. “Pollux?” I whisper. I don’t even have time to flip the light switch before a large hand covers my mouth and another snakes around my waist, jerking me back against a very solid body. I let out a muffled scream. “I thought you’d never show up,” Pollux husks close to my ear. His warm breath tickles my skin, and my heart thunders. He keeps me pinned there, pressed against him. “Couldn’t wait any longer,” he murmurs, trailing a finger down my arm. My pulse roars in my ears. “Pollux, we can’t. Not here.” He slides his hand down, gathers the silky folds of my dress, and hikes it up around my hips. “You owe me.” My breath catches. I’m wet already. He eases his palm over the front of my panties, and I involuntarily arch my back, pushing against him. “See?” he mutters. “You want this as badly as I do.” His hand slips under the lace, stroking me until I can’t speak. “I need a taste,” he growls against my neck. Dropping to his knees, he drags my underwear over my thighs and tosses them aside. My mind screams that someone could walk in at any second, but the surge of excitement overwhelms me. “Pollux—” I manage, but then his mouth is on me. Heat explodes low in my belly, spiraling up my spine. His tongue licks a scorching path through my center, and my hips jerk. I can barely stay upright. The only things keeping me from melting to the floor are his strong grip and my death-clutch on the edge of my desk. “Oh, God,” I moan as he buries his face between my legs. Every nerve in my body fires at once. I grip his hair, tugging, guiding his mouth harder against me. The pleasure builds until I’m shaking. “I’m close,” I whisper in a ragged breath. “Don’t stop.” He doesn’t. He feasts on me, tongue and lips driving me over the edge. My release rips a cry from my throat, echoing against the office walls. It’s so risky, so wrong, yet it feels so good. When I finally come down, he rises to his feet, wiping the corner of his mouth with a smug grin. “Best payoff I’ve ever had,” he says, voice rough with lust. The rational part of me screams this is insane—anyone could have heard—but my body is still tingling, my heartbeat thudding. And the way Pollux is staring at me, I know he’s not finished. “We should get back down there,” I say, trying to sound steady. He presses me against the desk. “Later,” he whispers, sliding his hand over my stomach. “First, I’m collecting the rest of what you owe.” - - Find out why readers are saying, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ “OMG! I never saw that coming. It may be a first for me, because I usually can always figure out the climax before it happens, but there was never any hint at this.” ~Katie R. The Ultimate Steamy Playboy Bundle Get 10 Books For 50% Off! Support Romance Authors Directly & #BuyDirect #RomanceBookBundles 🥰	SHOP_NOW	https://romancebookbundles.com/products/the-ultima	Logan Chance	https://www.facebook.com/61572429489914/	9	1969-12-31 18:00	Shop now	romancebookbundles.com	VIDEO	"FANTASTIC Series!!!" ~Reviewer	https://romancebookbundles.com/products/the-ultimate-steamy-playboy-bundle-by-logan-chance	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481111107_1425980738768819_2872616334649663091_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=C6XluWRp4ucQ7kNvgFx1bg4&_nc_oc=Adg0xoBQh_YATYWIqa6KGin5vYV9sp5DVXua74KkBciqL_PdtBiGxPlEJsI_iJ0ynCqQeZlu16BwTQXELfVOsQ4B&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A1Qm0EbnntgP5EzSWZM7CZW&oh=00_AYBFvYdgO5usbSkdtfxmsunW6BH7hIfahMvEE5WI0YHeTA&oe=67CBA593	PERSON_PROFILE	Logan Chance	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,247	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2747280}'	No	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759		Aidan Stein, the Eternal Lord Sovereign of the magnificent Eternity Palace, temporarily loses his memory and intelligence due to his 60-year cycle. He lives alone in Vertania until he encounters Jade Yule, who saves his life and becomes his wife. Years later, Jack Foley, an aristocrat of Vertania, develops an interest in Jade. He sends his men after Aidan, inadvertently triggering the resurgence of his memories and power.	WATCH_MORE	https://fb.dramabox.com/db_land_page/DALPF1052189.	DramaBox- drama movies3	https://www.facebook.com/61550858717796/	15,440	1969-12-31 18:00	Watch more	fb.dramabox.com	VIDEO		https://fb.dramabox.com/db_land_page/DALPF1052189.html?language=en&timestamp=1740755049948&channelCode=DALPF1052189&bid=41000112468&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&ad_group_name={{adset.name}}&ad_group_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481919790_9338647266249119_4221387276949777129_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=CBeqzGacNm8Q7kNvgEnMlcG&_nc_oc=AdifycFXt8gXlrNFa9BtFVLbvwe4vdDiPHXV0ivjA9nRWaLlPaxpRUEj_y1TmLcBvL7w_WVoBYzZBco6frcG-YXS&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ACGQOmvbEdMMJ2C-RA7b1Mw&oh=00_AYD0nJNzpgIfhvQN6GhZbS1URlIhm9xO9yMCxIjY_VDG-Q&oe=67CB99FD	PERSON_PROFILE	DramaBox- drama movies3	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,359	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2747358}'	Yes	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	Continue Watching👉	Aidan Stein, the Eternal Lord Sovereign of the magnificent Eternity Palace, temporarily loses his memory and intelligence due to his 60-year cycle. He lives alone in Vertania until he encounters Jade Yule, who saves his life and becomes his wife. Years later, Jack Foley, an aristocrat of Vertania, develops an interest in Jade. He sends his men after Aidan, inadvertently triggering the resurgence of his memories and power.	WATCH_MORE	https://fb.dramabox.com/db_land_page/DLLPF1059360.	DramaBox- movies&drama	https://www.facebook.com/DramaBoxMoviesDrama/	9,339,614	1969-12-31 18:00	Watch more	fb.dramabox.com	VIDEO		https://fb.dramabox.com/db_land_page/DLLPF1059360.html?language=en&timestamp=1740741297355&channelCode=DLLPF1059360&bid=41000112468&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&ad_group_name={{adset.name}}&ad_group_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481255463_1332779197867094_6159946654621307861_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Dtr0X1fKyVkQ7kNvgGMxSn_&_nc_oc=AdjsMtI9FhPpR9PvbjKHAstiOtMM8mx3JfVv61xKtmtON9GDak-WfsewP9SYxRXvZtzldgISrWQHBhBlv_wqpV5k&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AQHaeBI6iNdshAeJr9nqdrh&oh=00_AYDz64ODyMvkaOyl035igq1doo2vNOLZlZbQDov4tziFLw&oe=67CB8502	PERSON_PROFILE	DramaBox- movies&drama	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,271	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2747280}'	No	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759		Aidan Stein, the Eternal Lord Sovereign of the magnificent Eternity Palace, temporarily loses his memory and intelligence due to his 60-year cycle. He lives alone in Vertania until he encounters Jade Yule, who saves his life and becomes his wife. Years later, Jack Foley, an aristocrat of Vertania, develops an interest in Jade. He sends his men after Aidan, inadvertently triggering the resurgence of his memories and power.	WATCH_MORE	https://fb.dramabox.com/db_land_page/DALPF1052189.	DramaBox- drama movies3	https://www.facebook.com/61550858717796/	15,440	1969-12-31 18:00	Watch more	fb.dramabox.com	VIDEO		https://fb.dramabox.com/db_land_page/DALPF1052189.html?language=en&timestamp=1740755049948&channelCode=DALPF1052189&bid=41000112468&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&ad_group_name={{adset.name}}&ad_group_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481340277_2372066946503999_6796174720679995403_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=jnW1DSQlaqMQ7kNvgHa9RcS&_nc_oc=Adjdz-5f0AFeZTwYfCp7TGq1xC-NhXX1NG01ccWJwkMxkE3Qu75IGULmLXSvvV9mdymA21jiPGsqDyMZAlsXX4Nq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AhgAUIE0q4_ey4ZHkh7DOyv&oh=00_AYD0wz405t-bCqm-0BqZH7QRhCfm_6-C_dnh4Pas7y7WAg&oe=67CBA29D	PERSON_PROFILE	DramaBox- drama movies3	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,376	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2747280}'	No	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759		Aidan Stein, the Eternal Lord Sovereign of the magnificent Eternity Palace, temporarily loses his memory and intelligence due to his 60-year cycle. He lives alone in Vertania until he encounters Jade Yule, who saves his life and becomes his wife. Years later, Jack Foley, an aristocrat of Vertania, develops an interest in Jade. He sends his men after Aidan, inadvertently triggering the resurgence of his memories and power.	WATCH_MORE	https://fb.dramabox.com/db_land_page/DALPF1052189.	DramaBox- drama movies3	https://www.facebook.com/61550858717796/	15,440	1969-12-31 18:00	Watch more	fb.dramabox.com	VIDEO		https://fb.dramabox.com/db_land_page/DALPF1052189.html?language=en&timestamp=1740755049948&channelCode=DALPF1052189&bid=41000112468&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&ad_group_name={{adset.name}}&ad_group_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480948815_1684358012429839_1963343674109221837_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=GVZ7A1mNyzgQ7kNvgElfXcp&_nc_oc=Adj4HTu1GxDIcMajegU36HPNa4RtZ_6gBuYWAZkReazL60V8Xti2soiBpFMgBGfIc4rWYSjpkIROcg0QPqfuaPPM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AUA4tUC99UurILCVlF9ngba&oh=00_AYDMjkQmet5O3Uqb8yUQzn7GPFYxHXERJqTWid3Ssz4GQg&oe=67CB84A5	PERSON_PROFILE	DramaBox- drama movies3	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,057	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	Read next chapter👉	Three years of passion without love. But after every night in bed, he took his first love to her checkups. She struck back--filed for divorce and hired a model who looked just like him... for wild, endless nights! ===== Chapter 1 Carry On With Whatever This Is A military jeep thundered down the bustling bar street, its presence like a storm on the horizon. The jeep, adorned with a high-ranking officer's insignia and a distinctive license plate, commanded the attention of all it passed. It came to a jarring halt in front of the neon-lit Serendipity bar, its brakes screeching a piercing challenge to the surrounding nightlife. The door of the jeep opened and then slammed shut with a force that reverberated through the silent evening, mimicking the sharp report of a gunshot. A man emerged, his camouflage uniform blending oddly with the urban setting. His stern expression and the firm set of his jaw added to his daunting presence as he stepped into the colorful chaos of the bar. Inside, the neon lights cast an otherworldly glow on his face, the shadows playing across his features as he moved with a purposeful stride. The bar was alive with the vibrant beats of electrifying music and the murmur of drunken chatter--yet he seemed to carry a chilling silence around him, isolating him from the revelry. At the bar counter, Ryland Flynn was engrossed in a flirtatious conversation with the bargirl. He looked up as the military man entered, the haze of alcohol clearing swiftly from his eyes. The imposing figure made a beeline for the elevator, and Ryland, sensing urgency, scrambled off his stool to intercept him. "Mr. Mitchell... What brings you here to Serendipity tonight?" Ryland's voice faltered under the icy gaze of the man. The man's eyes narrowed, his voice resonant and commanding as he demanded, "Where's Renee?" "I... I believe she's at her home tonight," Ryland stammered, struggling to maintain his composure under the piercing scrutiny. Without hesitation, the man pressed the elevator button for the top floor, his action sharp and decisive. "You have 30 seconds to alert her," he stated curtly. Ryland's heart raced as panic gripped him. He knew that fabricating a story was pointless now. With trembling hands, he pulled out his phone and dialed Renee Carter's number right in front of the imposing figure looming over him. The phone buzzed unanswered after three persistent rings, prompting Ryland to switch to WhatsApp in a frantic rush. Opting for a voice message, he pressed the microphone icon and whispered urgently, "Renee, your husband is here to see you; he's on his way up in the elevator." His attempt to keep his voice hushed failed miserably; the words echoed clearly in the tight space of the elevator. An icy chuckle emanated from behind Ryland, sending shivers down his spine as the elevator dinged open. Sweat started to bead on his forehead, each drop a testament to his growing dread. The man stepped out with a determined stride, heading straight for the VIP room. Ryland, caught in a web of fear, trailed meekly behind, his steps hesitant and his mind racing for solutions. Stopping abruptly at the door, the man turned slightly. Ryland, mustering a sliver of courage, spoke up with a shaky voice. "Mr. Mitchell, I assure you, she isn't here." "Last chance--open up, or I'll kick this door in myself." "Please, believe me. She..." Ryland tried again, his voice faltering. "Three," the man stated evenly, his tone leaving no room for argument as the countdown commenced. "Fine," Ryland murmured, his voice a strained whisper as he fumbled with the room key, a sigh escaping him. His hands trembled slightly--caught in a bind, he dared not cross a member of the formidable Mitchell family. As the door creaked open, the man's eyes narrowed, his expression hardened into the stern, unyielding mask of a seasoned military veteran. Ryland stole a brief glance inside and sharply inhaled, quickly diverting his gaze to safeguard his own wellbeing, positioning himself squarely in the doorway, observing from a cautious distance. Inside, Renee reclined languidly on the sofa, her figure draped in a vibrant red slip dress that made a bold statement, flanked by two young male escorts. Their bare torsos were adorned with the unmistakable traces of passion, scratches carved into their skin like echoes of their heated encounters. The abrupt noise of the door's movement caused the escorts to stiffen, their muscles tensing as they beheld the daunting figure looming at the entrance. In sharp contrast, Renee exuded an air of nonchalant ease. Slowly opening her eyes, her lips curled into a taunting smirk upon sighting the man. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she regarded him through half-lidded eyes, her smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Relax, boys, it's not a police raid," she teased, her voice dripping with disdain. "Allow me to introduce him--this is my husband, the esteemed William Mitchell of the Mitchell family. You've surely heard of him, haven't you?" As she spoke, her gaze flitted over to William, observing his stoic visage with a provocative sneer. "Mr. Mitchell, to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit tonight? Aren't you supposed to be getting busy with your childhood sweetheart instead of wasting time here with us?" William approached with deliberate steps, the chill of the night air clinging to his camouflage jacket, mirroring the icy reserve on his face. He seated himself on the sofa across from her, crossing his legs with a deliberate nonchalance. Smirking insincerely, he waved a hand. "Don't mind me--carry on with whatever this is." Chapter 2 Disappointment Isn't An Option Here The two escorts were already visibly tense, their anxiety written all over their faces, and the mere mention of William's name sent shivers down their spines. Renee, her head bowed slightly, felt a surge of anger well up within her. Yet, she masked it expertly behind a veil of serenity and commanded, "You heard him, didn't you? Now that Mr. Mitchell is in the mood, you'd better be at your best--disappointment isn't an option here." She then raised her head, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous spark, and flashed a coquettish wink at William. "Mr. Mitchell, consider this an invaluable lesson. You treat the bed like a battlefield--my two companions, on the other hand, know how to make a woman feel cherished. After all, we aren't your foot soldiers. While I might endure your roughness, think of your beloved. She's far too delicate for such treatment, don't you think?" William responded with nothing more than a frigid glance. Reclining against the back of the sofa, he struck a match with a sharp flick, lighting his cigarette. A veil of smoke soon enveloped him, masking his inscrutable expression. Renee's irritation spiked at his detached demeanor; he looked almost wounded, though she couldn't fathom what could possibly dent his icy exterior. Impatiently, she snapped at the escorts, "Well? What are you waiting for? At Mr. Mitchell's request, show him what you've got--who knows, he might actually pick up a thing or two." With a defiant flair, Renee tugged at the straps of her slip dress, letting them slip down her shoulders. The men jolted with surprise, their eyes darting involuntarily towards William, whose gaze was icy and unforgiving. Instinctively, they squeezed their eyes shut. "Uh, Ms. Carter... maybe it's best if we go." As they stooped to gather their scattered clothing from the floor, Renee fixed them with a frosty stare that rooted them in place. "I've told you already. Disappointment isn't an option here," she stated, her voice sharp as the winter air. Her attention turned back to William just in time to catch a camouflage jacket sailing through the air, draping over her with precision, obscuring her view. Before she could shrug off the jacket, she was abruptly swept up by two robust hands. "William! What on earth are you doing?!" she exclaimed, her voice muffled under the fabric. Blind to his expression, she could only sense the intense, ominous aura radiating from him. Effortlessly, he slung her over his shoulder, a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his fingertips. In a swift motion, he extinguished the cigarette on the back of one of the men, eliciting a sharp yelp. Simultaneously, his boot connected with the other man's knee, causing a stifled groan of agony to fill the room. Ryland, who had been nervously lingering by the door, stepped forward in alarm. "Mr. Mitchell, please, let's resolve this peacefully," he pleaded, his voice quivering. "Get out of my way!" William's command was a low rumble, more animal than human, that sent Ryland stumbling back in fear. Helplessly, he watched as William maneuvered Renee into the back of the jeep, her protests fading into the night. The engine roared as the vehicle surged forward, a reflection of the driver's burning temper. As Renee collapsed onto the plush, crimson bedspread, the effects of the evening's alcohol started to fade. Her eyes fluttered open, fixing on the ornate bed in the master bedroom--an emblem of union they had never truly shared since their marriage. The irony stung, blending seamlessly with her sorrow. Their three-year union was not a sexless one. The rare times William came home from his military duties, their encounters, though heated and passionate, were just fleeting moments of intimacy. Yet, their living arrangements spoke volumes--they maintained separate rooms, with this room remaining untouched by either. But tonight, William's demeanor was unhinged, as he dragged her into this "sacred" space and threw her onto the bed without hesitation. "William, what the hell are you thinking?" Renee gasped, her voice a mix of bewilderment and fear. She barely managed to prop herself up when he loomed over her, his gaze wild and red-rimmed. "Get ready, because I'm gonna fuck you until you're begging for more," he declared, his words seething through clenched teeth as he ruthlessly ripped her dress strap by strap. "So, Renee, you were saying I was too rough, is that it?" he huffed, his breath hot against her ear, his teeth lightly grazing her earlobe in a chilling caress. "I'm gonna fuck you nice and easy tonight--make you feel every damn second of it." Trapped beneath his weight, Renee writhed futilely, her struggles inadvertently drawing them even closer. As he tenderly grazed her earlobe with a punitive lick, his voice cut through the air, icy and stark. "Remember, you're a married woman." Just then, the shrill ring of his phone pierced the tense air. Although he wanted to dismiss it, the insistent buzzing from his pocket--just as he was about to undress--compelled him to reach for his phone with visible impatience. Recognizing the caller ID, his expression softened slightly. With a wry, self-deprecating smirk, Renee peeked at his phone screen. Unsurprisingly, it was his childhood sweetheart calling. Her voice dripped with irony as she retorted, "Seems you've forgotten you're a married man." His eyes flickered to her, but before he could gauge her next move, Renee snatched his phone and answered the call with deliberate calm. "Hello, Sylvia," she called out evenly. There was a brief pause as Sylvia Payne processed the unexpected voice. "Renee... hi," she stammered, her words stumbling over the shock. Upon catching William's resigned look, Renee's smile twisted into a sly grin. "Yeah, it's me. Sorry, but William and I are a little busy right now. You know how horny couples get after some time apart--it's like a damn craving that needs to be satisfied. He's got his mouth all over me, so I doubt he'll be able to answer his phone anytime soon." Chapter 3 A Fucking Liar Renee's words might have struck a nerve or instilled fear in Sylvia, who fell silent, stewing in her thoughts for a lengthy pause. Just as Renee braced herself for another onslaught of bold accusations, William intervened, snatching the phone from her hand. His kiss, fierce and claiming, then stole her breath away. William wasn't one to make empty promises--he showed her exactly what gentleness could be. After what felt like an eternity of torment, Renee broke down in tears, pleading for mercy--only then did he finally relent. Drained from the ordeal, she succumbed to sleep almost instantly. Throughout the night, she drifted in a half-conscious daze, vaguely aware of William leaving the bed. By the time morning crept in, Renee awoke alone. She lay there on the vast bed that held both fresh and lingering memories, her mind adrift in contemplation. She turned towards the curtains, tightly drawn, blurring the lines between late morning rays and the onset of dusk. A wave of weariness washed over her as she reached for her phone, her body still aching from the previous night's passions. That was when she saw it--a post from Sylvia on Instagram, unmistakably capturing William from behind, engrossed in cooking. The realization hit with the sharpness of a knife. In a fit of rage, Renee hurled her phone against the wall. Despite the force, the device miraculously survived the impact. "That fucking liar! That cheating piece of shit!" she snarled, fists clenched in anger. Lifting the blanket, she tried to stand, but the lingering soreness made every movement a struggle. That scumbag had really done a number on her. Yet, he felt no pain at all--if anything, he was in high spirits as he happily went to cook for his lover. Her anger simmered, fueled by each throbbing ache and the betrayal freshly unveiled. Sylvia's post was a glaring provocation. At that moment, a hesitant knock rapped at the door, followed by the maid's timid voice filtering through. "Mrs. Mitchell, are you up? Mr. Mitchell had me prepare something to help with your hangover." Renee seethed with annoyance. Now that he was out cavorting with his mistress, why even bother sending the maid? She inhaled sharply, trying to quell the rising storm within her. "I'm much better now, thank you. No need for that," Renee called out, her voice strained. Yet, the maid lingered at the doorway, her tone soft and persistent. "Mrs. Mitchell, Mr. Mitchell also specifically prepared a pill for you. Would you like to come out and take it?" Confused and a bit curious, Renee cracked open the door and peered out. "What pill?" she asked, her brow furrowed in suspicion. "You know, for after last night..." The maid trailed off delicately. That was the last straw. Renee's control snapped like a rope stretched too tight for too long. She was teetering dangerously on the edge of an outburst. Over the past three years of their marriage, Renee had diligently taken a contraceptive pill after each of their intimate encounters. The thought of starting a family hadn't yet appealed to her; she wasn't ready to embrace motherhood. The routine was simple when she managed it herself, but it felt different, almost intrusive, when William had the pills delivered to her. "I'm not taking it!" Renee declared defiantly, her voice thick with resolve. "Tell that scumbag that if I get pregnant, I'll have the baby! Let's see how he deals with that!" Her words echoed sharply as she slammed the door with a resounding thud, the sound reverberating off the walls. The moment the maid stepped out, she started digging through the room for the pills she bought before, her remark earlier nothing more than a bitter jab. Exhausted, she collapsed onto the plush bed, her body twisting and turning as she tried to find comfort in the soft linens. As sleep tugged at her consciousness, her mind seethed with curses aimed at William. She pondered his unexpected return from military service. Could his sudden appearance be tied to some trouble involving Sylvia? Indeed, Renee's suspicions weren't unfounded. William's return had everything to do with Sylvia. The moment he was discharged, he'd tried reaching out to Renee, only to be met with silence. His inquiries led him to discover her recent escapades, including the escorts she'd taken to keeping company. In a mix of rage and desperation, he had stormed the bar where she frequented, dragged her away, and then rushed to attend to Sylvia. Meanwhile, at the hospital, Sylvia sat uncomfortably as the doctor concluded his examination. "Ma'am, aside from some mild anemia, you're perfectly fine. By the way, is this gentleman your husband?" The question caught Sylvia off guard, a flush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. Leaning slightly forward, William questioned, "Doctor, should she be taking any extra precautions? Does she need to avoid any specific foods?" He neither confirmed nor denied, preserving Sylvia's dignity. "Just avoid seafood, particularly crabs. Beyond that, she's free to enjoy whatever she likes. Be grateful she's not constantly battling nausea. She's dealing with morning sickness--consider yourself lucky she can still eat without throwing up." "Got it. Thanks for your help, doctor." William's response was polite, tinged with a sense of relief. William stole a glance at Sylvia after leaving the doctor's office. She was cradling her belly gently, her expression radiant with the glowing joy unique to a first-time mother. He sighed, a whisper barely audible escaping his lips. "Sylvia." "William, I think... I can feel the baby's heartbeat." Sylvia's voice trembled with wonder, her eyes gleaming as they met his. He paused, the weight of his next words pressing down on him. "Sylvia, you should consider terminating the pregnancy." "No!" Her voice cracked, a visceral refusal. Tears instantly welled in her eyes as she implored him, "William, I want this baby. Please, let me keep it. Don't force me to give it up. I can raise this child by myself if I have to..." "And you think you can make this decision to keep the child without my agreement?" The cold, sharp voice of Renee sliced through their conversation. Both Sylvia and William turned to see her at the corner of the corridor, arms folded, her presence like a specter at a feast. Her stance and piercing gaze left no doubt about her stance--she was, after all, William's lawful wife, and her words carried the weight of her position. Chapter 4 Confrontation The moment Sylvia laid eyes on Renee, her heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively darted behind William, like a child seeking shelter from a nightmare. William's expression hardened into a frown as he faced Renee, his voice tinged with disbelief. "What are you doing here?" Renee's shoulders lifted in a casual shrug, her voice dry. "It's a hospital, William. What do you think?" As William's frown carved deeper lines into his forehead, he surveyed Renee from head to toe, searching for any telltale signs of illness but finding none. Taking a bold step forward, Renee's gaze locked onto Sylvia with unsettling intensity. "I heard my husband escorted another woman for a prenatal check-up early this morning. Naturally, as his legal wife, I felt compelled to see for myself." Her eyes, sharp and gleaming, bore into Sylvia's. "Miss Payne, let me be clear--as long as I draw breath, your child will never be acknowledged. Unless..." Her eyes then flicked to William, and she paused, letting the silence stretch before continuing with deliberate calm, "Unless William dares to divorce me. Why don't you ask him if he has the courage to do so?" Would William actually muster the courage to divorce her? Obviously not--otherwise, he wouldn't have made it through three years of this. When Renee was just 20, she declared to her family that she intended to marry William. Even her grandfather, Johnny Carter, who had doted on her since childhood, refused her for the first time. Johnny, a once-formidable retired commander, loomed large in his world, much like Renee's father, who, though steering clear of politics, had carved a significant niche in the business realm. Across the social spectrum, William's father, Eric Mitchell, wielded considerable influence as a high-ranking official in the political echelons. His current stature meant that allying with the Carter family could catapult him to even greater heights. The union between Renee and William was crafted as an unbreakable alliance, a powerful merger with no exits. Once vows were exchanged, the idea of parting ways was off the table. A divorce would not only fracture their personal lives but would also force their influential families into a messy, public tug-of-war, risking a feud that could echo through their elite circles. With Eric poised on the brink of a crucial promotion, he was adamant: divorce between his son and daughter-in-law was simply not an option. During the earlier days of their marriage, Renee had poured her heart into nurturing the union, but her efforts soon revealed themselves to be fruitless endeavors. Despite chasing William's affection for five years before she managed to marry him, his feelings remained elusive; not even the legal bond of marriage could spark affection in him. Faced with this reality, Renee suggested a pragmatic solution that they would continue to project the image of a devoted couple publicly and during familial gatherings, while privately, they would lead separate lives, each cloaked in their own solitude. With William being in the army for most of it, there wasn't much pretending needed anyway. Yet, one thing still baffled Renee--whenever William returned from the army, he would spend endless nights in bed with her, refusing to stop until she gave in. It was simply strange--he had ensured Sylvia lived close to his base in Stotta, so why did he still look like he hadn't touch any woman in forever? Renee guessed it was due to Sylvia's frail condition--William probably didn't want to strain her too much. What a fucking bastard! He pampered his lover like a queen while treating Renee like absolute shit. The sight of Sylvia tucked behind William sent a sharp, unexpected pang through Renee's chest. "What's wrong with you?" William's question sliced through the tension, but Renee's mocking laugh dismissed it, her disdain palpable. "William, I'm getting rid of Sylvia's baby right now. Are you going to try and stop me?" Her challenge hung heavy in the air, her words sharp as shards of glass. Their recent quarrel had left a chilly void between them. William had slipped away at dawn, his departure marked by a stinging silence. And then, the call from Ryland had come, twisting the knife deeper--William had escorted Sylvia to the obstetrics department for a prenatal checkup. The scandal, simmering just beneath the surface, threatened to boil over, exposing Renee to ridicule. "No! William, please, not my baby..." Sylvia's voice quavered, her fingers clutching William's sleeve as if it were her last lifeline. Her eyes, wide and pleading, searched his face for any sign of reassurance. But William remained eerily silent, his gaze unyieldingly locked on Renee's cold eyes. "William..." Sylvia's voice broke, terror lacing her whisper. She gripped his arm tighter, her plea more desperate. "I can't let go of this baby, William. Please, I need your help." "shut up!" The sharpness in Renee's voice cut through the tense air. In a swift, harsh motion, she raised her hand and delivered a stinging slap across Sylvia's face. The sound echoed, a chilling smack that left a vivid red imprint on Sylvia's pale cheek. "You don't have a say here, Sylvia," Renee hissed, her voice dripping with disdain. From the other end of the corridor, another voice challenged the oppressive silence, its tone imbued with an undeniable authority. "Is that so? And do I have a voice in this matter?" All eyes turned toward the newcomer. Her presence was commanding, her attire simple yet exuding an elegance that spoke of bespoke tailoring--clearly, she was a woman of significant stature. "Mom?" Chapter 5 As You Wish "Mrs. Mitchell..." Upon spotting William's mother, Esme Mitchell, Sylvia's eyes lit up with a flicker of desperate hope. She darted forward, throwing her arms around Esme in a tight embrace. Tears cascaded down her cheeks, painting her as a tragic heroine consumed by sorrow--an image that could melt even the coldest heart. It was no surprise that even William, with his usual stoic demeanor, found his resolve weakening under Sylvia's poignant display. Renee, observing from a distance, knew she lacked the flair for such dramatic expressions. "No need to worry, Sylvia. I'll protect you," Esme assured the younger woman, her tone warm and steady. "Mom, please, let's not escalate this," William interjected, his expression tense with concern. Around Esme, he often felt like he had no control. "William, if I hadn't shown up, would you have just stood by after Renee's outburst? I know I might have turned a blind eye before, but now, with Sylvia carrying your child--a new member of the Mitchell family on the way--can you really afford to let Renee act unchecked?" Esme's tone was both accusing and protective. At the mention of the baby being another Mitchell, Sylvia's eyes dropped, her joy of coming motherhood shadowed by the weight of those words. William shot a brief, complicated look at Sylvia, his face unreadable. "I can handle this, Mom," he stated flatly, his voice laced with frustration. "And how exactly would you handle it? By watching as Renee lashes out at Sylvia and doing nothing?" Esme countered sharply, her frustration mirroring her son's but for different reasons. Renee stood her ground, her voice a mixture of irony and resolve as she addressed Esme. "I'm your daughter-in-law, William's one and only legal wife. No matter how influential your family is, you wouldn't dare commit bigamy, would you?" Esme bristled, her response sharp and clipped. "Enough of your bullshit!" "Bullshit? Is that what you call them?" Renee shot back, her tone rising slightly with indignation. "It was indeed I who pursued William initially, but over the years, both I and my family have shouldered immense burdens to prop up your family's stature. And now, you wish to replace me with Sylvia? Did you even bother to consult the other members of the Mitchell family about your plans?" As she turned her gaze towards Sylvia, Renee's eyes flashed with contempt. "To even mention Sylvia in the same breath as me is laughable." "Renee, that's enough," William interjected, his voice icy and stern. Esme, emboldened by William's admonition, pressed on, her tone dripping with disdain. "William, did you hear her? This is not how a sophisticated heiress should behave. She lacks the basic decorum expected of her status. I've always said it--Renee is too stubborn and impulsive for our family. You should never have married her. Remember how I opposed it from the start?" But Renee wasn't fazed. Instead, she laughed heartily, a sound rich with scorn and amusement. "Indeed, a home-wrecker must be so sophisticated and possess impeccable manners," she said sarcastically. Deep down, Renee knew she was the one who had come between William and Sylvia. Originally, Sylvia's family had fallen into dire straits, and the Mitchell family, due to their precarious position, could not offer direct help. It was then that William had turned to Renee, who had been ardently pursuing him for five years. For the past five years, William had all but ignored Renee, treating her affection as if it were invisible. Renee, ever the hopeful pursuer, tirelessly chased after his fleeting attention. Ironically, the first time he sought her out wasn't for romance--it was to plead on behalf of Sylvia. Renee's disdain for Sylvia stretched back to their childhood days, a bitter rivalry that festered over the years. Thus, when William asked for her help for Sylvia, Renee seized the opportunity to turn the tables. She threw the notion of marriage at him like a challenge, expecting him to waver. But to her shock, he consented immediately, his compliance cutting her deeply. It was a stark, painful reminder of Sylvia's significance to him. Sylvia, the perpetual thorn in Renee's side, had been a constant source of agony since she became William's wife. Lost in these brooding thoughts, Renee was then jolted back to reality by a sharp slap. Her head whipped around, eyes blazing with fury, to find Esme standing there, her expression unyielding. "This slap is for Sylvia," Esme declared firmly. "Renee, don't think you can torment her just because she's an orphan and vulnerable." "Mom! Why the hell did you do that?" William interjected, stepping in front of Renee protectively. But Renee wasn't grateful for his defense. Instead, she scoffed, her laughter tinged with bitterness, "Oh, so I'm the bad guy now? Fine. Let it be as you wish." In a swift, fluid motion, Renee charged forward, her fingers entwined in Sylvia's hair as she delivered a stinging slap across her cheek. Her actions were fierce and immediate--Renee never hesitated to settle scores right then and there, refusing to suffer any slight quietly. "She may lack family, but I refuse to let that girl trample over the dignity of the Carter family!" Renee declared with fiery conviction. Despite Esme's frantic attempts to calm the storm, she was powerless against Renee's relentless fury. Raised with strict discipline, Esme was the polar opposite of Renee. And there was Sylvia, who had always been gentle and unassuming. Renee, with her commanding presence, could easily overpower them both. "William! Are you seriously just going to watch? Are you just going to let her go on a rampage like that?" Esme's voice cracked under the strain, her plea laced with desperation. Renee's eyes finally snapped to William, who had remained a silent observer. With his skills, he could have intervened at any moment, preventing the assault with ease. Why had he chosen to remain passive when she struck Sylvia? Lost in her thoughts, Renee barely registered the sensation of a strong arm encircling her waist. In an instant, she was lifted from the floor, her feet dangling helplessly. William, treating her with no more regard than one would a sack of potatoes, carried her away. His voice was calm, yet it carried an unyielding firmness. "Mom, I can handle my affairs. Stay out of this. I won't say it again," he stated decisively, before carrying Renee back towards their home. &9&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/70314322-fb_contact-e	Lime novel-E	https://www.facebook.com/100090637249756/	361	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	VIDEO		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/70314322-fb_contact-enp133_6-250225-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=798859118295947&exdata=F5168A8F4492BA0F578A5CF4A4805521569202A05453B293	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481921082_961821396073949_8704698883209844391_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=wIhbGtdWzVYQ7kNvgFwNzDU&_nc_oc=Adhai8qf1kMg9KroLT-PaYgKR0LReytszNkvxW-SegCLAT3ZjGGEfhNFwnpKAr-ZK2tmoddwO67HWvyv7N-tfAaE&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AKKs2JOQirhir41eNtIzQ_6&oh=00_AYCA3azb6lZOLtD-TMxJI1QaJZAMlCcFL2oF9BGvq_ygqw&oe=67CBA402	PERSON_PROFILE	Lime novel-E	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,067	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759		Emerging from the confines of marriage, she blossomed from a mundane housewife to a renowned painter with a legion of admirers. When her ex-husband sought reconciliation at her doorstep, he witnessed her in the arms of a prominent man. "Meet your new sister-in-law!" ===== In the dimly lit, opulent private cinema, the most exclusive jewelry auction was being broadcast live. "One million, going once, going twice--" The rich cadence of the auctioneer's voice echoed through the room, the man tightened his grip around Alicia Bennett's waist... With the intensity between them only grew fiercer as time passed... The auctioneer's gavel fell. "Sold for ten million! Let's give a round of applause to Mr. Joshua Yates!" The name struck Alicia like a lightning bolt. Her body instantly went rigid, something that the man couldn't help but notice, flicked lazily toward the screen. The camera zoomed in on Joshua Yates's face, every detail of his familiar features displayed in perfect clarity. "Joshua Yates, the second son of the Yates family... an acquaintance perhaps?" he drawled, the corners of his mouth tugging into a sly smile. Alicia's frown deepened. The last thing she wanted was to discuss it, she didn't respond. The man, upon seeing the situation, chuckled lightly before his movements grew even more relentless... ...... When it was over, Alicia took advantage of the man's time in the shower and quietly made her escape. When Caden Ward finally emerged from the bathroom, not catching sight of the woman's figure, he curled his lips slightly. Moments later, his assistant, Hank Ford, burst into the room, clearly on edge, "Er, apologies, Mr. Ward. I let my guard down. Give me a moment, and I'll have her brought back immediately." They had just returned to the country, taking every precaution. And yet, a woman had managed to slip through the cracks of their security. Caden's features calm, almost indifferent. "No need. I was... a willing participant." Hank's eyes widened in shock. In all the time he'd known Caden, the man had never slept with a woman,even physical contact. There were even rumors that Caden might suffer from some secret ailment. Yet now, those whispers seemed to evaporate in the face of this unexpected turn of events. Before Hank could make sense of it, Caden's deep voice pulled him back to reality. "I want you to look into Joshua's personal life. Have the report on my desk in half an hour." Tonight, Alicia had stumbled into his room, feverish and desperate. It was obvious she'd been framed. And then came the revelation--Alicia was still a pureness. Two years of marriage to Joshua... Yet she was still untouched? Caden's lips curled into a satisfied smile. But as he reflected, one thing became abundantly clear--Alicia had no idea who she'd been with due to the dug's effects. ... By the time Alicia returned home, the first light of dawn filtered through the windows. Only then did she realize how long she had been out. But before she could dwell any further, her phone rang. It was her bestie, Monica Flynn, calling. "Alicia!" Monica practically screeched from the other end of the line, her voice high-pitched with worry. "How are you now?" Alicia exhaled deeply, kicking off her shoes carelessly. "I've been better," she murmured. Monica's anger bubbled over, her words sharp and unrelenting. "Joshua's beyond disgusting! If he doesn't want to stay married, he should just grow a spine and divorce you already! What kind of sick man would scheme against his own wife?" The sharp pain of betrayal shot through Alicia's chest. Yesterday was their second anniversary. Joshua had texted her, suggesting they celebrate. Daring to hope he had changed, she had dressed up to the nine's, only to be met with disappointment and a dug-laced drink that sent her spiraling into a night of confusion and chaos. Was Joshua really the mastermind behind this? Swallowing the bitterness that tried clawing its way to the surface, Alicia forced herself to climb the stairs, her movements slow and weary. "It's fine, Monica. I'll handle it." Monica, ever protective, wasn't convinced. "'Handle it'? What do you mean you'll handle it? Just say the word, and I'll be over in a heartbeat." Alicia couldn't help the small, tired smile that tugged at her lips, hanging up the phone. But her heart still felt heavy, just as she lost focus, the door to her bedroom creaked open. She lifted her gaze, and almost instantly, her stomach dropped. There, fresh from a shower, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, stood Joshua. He stared down at her. Chapter 2 Divorce Alicia snapped out of her daze as soon as she met the icy gaze of Joshua, her so-called husband. His expression remained unchanged, cold and indifferent as ever, as though he was looking at a stranger. The only thing out of place was the scars on his lips. A wave of disgust washed over her, she pushed him away and was about to enter. Joshua frowned, his hand shooting out to grab her wrist. "Alicia, what's with the attitude?" He seemed quite unhappy with her this time, which was a rare thing, considering how little he bothered to come home. Normally, Alicia would have welcomed him back with open arms, a flicker of joy lighting up her tired features, but today she looked drained, almost hollow. She didn't resist his grip, meeting his gaze with a calmness that unnerved him. "Haven't I always been like this? Obedient, sensible, making sure the house is in order, ensuring you're comfortable, ready to give your best at work." A small, bitter smile tugged at her lips. "Isn't that what you like most about me? It makes things easier for you, doesn't it? Frees up time for your other... 'special someone'." Joshua's eyes darkened at the veiled accusation. Denial hovered on his lips, but he didn't bother. Why should he? He dropped her hand and said gruffly, "Actually, that's why I'm here. We need to talk." Alicia vigorously rubbed her wrist, as though she was trying to erase his touch. "So, are you planning to finally go public with her?" Joshua's expression twisted instantly, his calm facade cracking. "What do you know? Did you have me stalked by a private investigator or something?" Alicia let out a soft, humorless laugh. "Is that necessary? Last night, you spared no expense to make her happy. Even a blind person could tell you're mad about her." He stared at her, unsettled by her icy tone. It was still her voice, still Alicia, but there was something different about her... For some reason, he felt inexplicably hurt, like a thorn pricking his heart. Perhaps it was the way she looked at him now--her eyes, once warm and filled with love for him, were now completely empty. There was no anger, no pain, just... nothing. It was a stark contrast to the woman who used to look at him as if he were her entire world. For reasons he couldn't explain, the sight of her like this stirred something in him, an unfamiliar dissatisfaction. Annoyed by his own reaction, Joshua decided to hit back, his voice harder now. "She's pregnant. It's a delicate pregnancy, so I bought her a little something to lift her spirits." Alicia's fists clenched before she could stop them. Pgnant? So, the nights she had stayed up waiting for him to come home, he'd been with another woman, working diligently to start a new family? Seeing Alicia wince a little, Joshua felt a flicker of satisfaction. "It's not that I don't want to touch you," he said, voice dripping with condescension. "You're just about as thrilling as watching paint dry. No man would want that." His cruel words pierced through Alicia, yet she managed to remain composed on the surface. It wasn't that she avoided intimacy; she just wasn't the one to initiate it. Did that make her so undesirable? Was it a sin? Taking a slow, steady breath, Alicia willed herself to stay calm. "Fine," she replied quietly. "Let's get a divorce then. You can give her the title she wants." The word "divorce" made Joshua's eyelid twitch involuntarily. He scoffed, eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Is this another one of your games?" Convinced he was right, his voice grew colder, more biting. "Alicia, for two years, you've pulled every childish stunt, begging for my attention. Aren't you tired yet? Because I sure as hell am." He paused, letting his disdain sink in. "You claim to love me so much. Could you really walk away from me?" Alicia couldn't help the bitter laugh that escaped her. Love him? Did he even understand what that meant? When Joshua's business had crumbled, leaving him with nothing but debt and shattered dreams, it had been Alicia who emptied her savings to pull him from the wreckage. Out of gratitude--or maybe obligation--he had married her. For two long years, she had been the dutiful wife, supporting him as he clawed his way to success. And what had Alicia gotten in return? She had been cast aside like a useless relic, while another woman carried his child. Her love, her loyalty, had been ground into the dirt beneath his feet. To care for this man any longer would be masochism. Her voice steady, Alicia said, "Draft the divorce agreement. I'll agree to whatever terms you want." And with that, she turned and disappeared through the door, leaving Joshua standing alone in the hallway. For a moment, he stared after her angrily, but then a cold, mocking smile tugged at his lips. Fine, she can play the martyr. He doubted she could keep it up for long. Storming out of the house, Joshua headed straight to the apartment where his lover, Lilliana Green, awaited him. "Well, that was fast," she teased upon hearing Joshua was getting a divorce, raising a brow. "Seems she wasn't as tough to deal with as you claimed." "She's cunning," Joshua muttered, the edge of suspicion creeping into his voice. "I don't know if she's actually agreeing to the divorce or just playing me." Lilliana's arms draping lazily around his neck, "Relax, Joshua, even if she changes her mind, it's too late." Joshua's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?" Chapter 3 Letting Go Lilliana's eyes flickered with shadowy intent. She wasn't foolish enough to show her cards now, so she waved it off with an effortless excuse. "During your two-year marriage, she has lived quietly in the shadows as a mere housewife, disconnected from your world. When you're assertive, would she dare to say a word?" Joshua pursed his lips into a hard line. During the past two years, Alicia had indeed done everything for him--given him support and solace. She had loved him fiercely, but at the end of it all, what value did love truly hold? Against all odds, he had clawed his way to the top, and he'd finally grasped the power he craved. That success, however, hadn't come easy, and it wasn't love that secured his position--it was alliances with the powerful. The prestige of the Green family daughter, that title alone, was worth far more than Alicia's devoted love. As these thoughts plagued his mind, Lilliana said happily, "Joshua, congratulations on escaping the grind. Shall we celebrate?" For a moment, Joshua's gaze flickered down to her, but Alicia's indifferent face suddenly flashed before his eyes. Since leaving the house earlier, Alicia hadn't once called him to ask for his whereabouts. Before, if he had been upset with her, she would've called him in a panic. A sharp, inexplicable irritation surged within him. Without thinking, he pushed Lilliana back, "You're only a few weeks' pregnant. Be careful." Lilliana, sharp as ever, sensed he was distracted. "Joshua, what's wrong?" she asked gently. "Don't you want to get divorced?" Joshua's response was instant. "Of course I want to divorce her." Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. "Then why don't you seem very happy?" Joshua offered a quick excuse, his voice steady but distant. "My father's condition has worsened. He doesn't have much time left, and Caden returned last night. He's likely here to claim his inheritance. I need to figure out how to handle him." Lilliana blinked, momentarily thrown. "Caden? Your brother from your father's first marriage? He doesn't even carry the Yates name anymore. What right does he have to fight you for the inheritance?" Joshua's expression darkened. It was true--but at the end of the day, he was still the son of a home-wrecker. All these years of relentless effort had not only been to carve out a name for himself in the Yates family, but to push Caden into the shadows where he belonged. One way or another, Joshua was hell-bent on winning. Meanwhile, Alicia stirred from her sleep. Darkness had already fallen, yet she felt even more drained than before. It was because her dreams revolved around that stranger. when her phone buzzed with a call from Monica did she snap out of her daze. "Alicia, I got your bld test results. I passed them to a friend of mine with some serious connections. He's digging around to see who bought the stuff." Alicia sat up a little straighter, her mind sharpening. "Thanks, Monica. Appreciate it." "If you really want to thank me, do me a favor: stop obsessing over that j*k. And after the divorce, focus on your career. You owe me that much." Alicia's chest warmed, her head lowering in quiet gratitude. "I know, I know." Now that she thought about it, she had come to the realization that her feelings for Joshua had never been pure love--they were born out of a debt, a sense of obligation. Her family's expectations had always weighed heavily on her, and in that lonely, stifled childhood, it was Joshua who had been there. His companionship had nurtured a vague affection she'd confused for love. "Lucky for me, love's never been something I've held onto tightly," Alicia murmured. "These last two years... I'll just see it as repaying his kindness." Monica paused, her usual boldness tempered with thoughtfulness. She knew better than anyone how, once upon a time, Joshua had indeed loved Alicia. But, it turned out love could be a fleeting thing. "Alicia, I really hope you've let go for good," Monica said with a convicted sigh. A sharp pang hit Alicia's chest, her eyes stinging as she fought back the urge to cry. Quickly, she pressed her hand to her eyelids, refusing to let the tears fall. It was only then she noticed something startling. Stunned, she stared at her hand. The wedding ring--something she had once held onto so tightly--was gone. Gone for a whole day and night, and she hadn't even noticed. Suddenly, her heart felt lighter, the weight of everything she'd been carrying beginning to lift. She whispered, more to herself than anyone, "Yes, I've truly let go." ... It didn't take long for Joshua to notice. He had returned to grab something quickly when his eyes fell on her hand. His brow furrowed as he asked, without thinking, "Where's your wedding ring?" Chapter 4 Her Nemesis Alicia's only concern now was leaving Joshua, so she ignored his question and asked flatly, "Are the divorce papers ready yet?" That word again--"divorce". Irritation flickered across Joshua's eyes. "What's the rush?" he snapped, his voice cold and sharp. "My father's finalizing his will, and if word gets out about my divorce, it'll ruin my standing. Now, pack your things--we're having dinner at the Yates Mansion this afternoon." With Caden's return, the family was throwing a welcome-home dinner for him. They also hoped that by doing so, it'd lift the spirits of Jerald Yates, Joshua's father. However, maintaining the charade of a happy marriage was the last thing on Alicia's mind. "I'm not going," she announced curtly. "Just get the divorce finalized and stop wasting my time." Joshua laughed, a sound that held no warmth. "Oh, come on, Alicia. Stop pretending. You hid the ring because you don't actually want to leave me, right? You can't stand the thought of being without me." He leaned in, smirking, and added, "You've worked hard these past two years. Even if we divorce, I'll still take care of you--as long as you keep me happy." Alicia's eyes widened, disbelief turning into anger. Hid the ring? Couldn't bear to be without him? His arrogant words sounded like nails on a chalkboard to Alicia's ears. With a sharp sneer, she shot back, "Oh, Mr. Yates, how could I possibly make you happy? Don't worry, I'll return the ring--wouldn't want this plain Jane to irk you, right? Once you have it, we're finalizing the divorce immediately." But Joshua wasn't fazed by her venom. He thought he knew her too well, convinced this was just another ploy to get his attention. Without thinking too much, he tossed a bag at her. "We've got guests today. Dress appropriately, and don't make me look bad." Alicia looked down at the bag, her mind flashing back to the countless times she had visited the mansion dressed in modest, unassuming clothes-- doing everything to blend in, to please him and his family. But now, with their divorce looming on the horizon, Alicia no longer cared to play the part of a dutiful wife. After slipping into the outfit, she carefully applied a touch of makeup, just enough to bring out the vibrance in her already flawless complexion. The subtle enhancements accentuated her smooth skin and delicate features, lending her a certain glow. When Joshua saw her descending the staircase, he froze for a brief moment, eyes lingering. Perhaps it was the way the dress hugged Alicia's graceful curves, making her seem more alluring than usual. At the entrance of the Yates Mansion, they both slipped into their familiar roles, masking the tension between them with practiced ease. Alicia casually looped her arm through Joshua's, their movements synchronized as they walked into the courtyard. Though Jerald was too ill to receive anyone, the grand hall bustled with life, relatives filling the space with chatter. The noise hummed around her, but for some reason, as soon as Alicia crossed the threshold, a sharp chill pricked at her skin. She instinctively looked up, her gaze immediately drawn to the figure lounging casually at the far end of the room. Legs crossed, dark shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a sliver of his collarbone, the man oozed arrogance, his presence commanding. When Alicia's eyes finally met his-- a familiar, authoritative stare that pinned her in place-- her mind raced as emotions began to surge uncontrollably. Joshua noticed the shift in her demeanor, his brows furrowing as he asked, "What's going on with you?" Alicia's breath caught in her throat. One word escaped her lips, barely audible. "Caden?" Just the mention of his name sent a chill down her spine. To her, Caden was the embodiment of her nightmares. Due to their families' friendship, their paths first crossed at the tender age of ten. Caden, having taken a year off, transferred to her school, and from that moment, Alicia's perfect world began to unravel. She could no longer claim the top spot. No matter how relentless her efforts, no matter how late she stayed up studying, Caden was always a step ahead. He would outscore her by the smallest of margins--a point, maybe two--leaving her perpetually stranded in second place. Anyone else might have accepted defeat, settled into the role of runner-up. But not Alicia. Born into the once prestigious Bennett family, she was raised under the suffocating weight of living up to her family name. Excellence wasn't just a goal--it was the currency by which she could earn her parents' affection. Failure was not an option, yet Caden had the audacity to snatch away everything she'd worked for with what seemed like effortless ease. It was as if he'd set his sights on her from the very beginning, and Alicia, stubborn to a fault, refused to back down. Their rivalry spanned over a decade, a relentless battle fought both openly and in the shadows, and their final showdown took place in college, just before their graduation, at the national competition. Alicia poured her heart and soul into that moment, her focus razor-sharp as she aimed for nothing less than perfection. And she achieved it, having garnered a perfect score. But Caden, ever the serpent, had bribed the judges, twisting the results in his favor. Alicia was forced, once again, into second place. The sting of injustice was deep, but the harshest blow came from her father, Phil Bennett. Over the phone, his voice dripped with disappointment in her ranking. Alicia, having grown accustomed to his tirades, said nothing. She waited for his anger to ebb, then asked quietly, "I'm graduating soon. Will you come back?" Her mother, Donna, had always been her softer solace. She comforted Alicia that day, promising they'd be there for her graduation. But life had other plans. Phil and Donna, rushing back from Itrubisite to attend the graduation, perished in a tragic plane crash. Overnight, Alicia's world crumbled, left an orphan in this cruel world. Since that day, she had never challenged Caden again. Afterward, Caden left Warrington to build his career overseas. ... "He's back for the inheritance," Joshua muttered, his voice barely audible. Alicia cast him a sidelong glance as he continued, "With a family empire as big as ours, an eldest son like him wouldn't give up so easily." Her brow furrowed slightly. It was true--the Yates empire was massive, a legacy most would kill for. But Caden had accumulated his own fortune, surpassing even the family's vast wealth. Did he really care about the inheritance? Then again, this was Caden. Competing was in his blood. Even if he didn't care about the fortune itself, he'd fight tooth and nail just to win, to toy with everyone else. The man had a knack for stirring chaos purely for his own amusement. Alicia had been his rival for as long as she could remember, and even now, the thought of giving him so much as a glance felt like a waste of energy. She turned to walk away. But Joshua caught her wrist, his grip firm yet tense. "I know you two don't get along," he said. "But he's still my elder brother. We need to maintain appearances." Her body stiffened at the touch, and she immediately tried to pull her hand free. Joshua's frown deepened. "Alicia, behave," he hissed. Irritation flared in her chest. "I'm not refusing to go in. Just let go of me first. I don't want your filthy hands touching me." A flicker of something dark passed over Joshua's face, and instead of releasing her, he intertwined their fingers, squeezing them tight. Alicia bit her tongue, silently fuming. As they neared, Caden's gaze slowly lifted, his eyes narrowing in a lazy, almost bored assessment of them. "Caden," Joshua greeted, his tone strained, meeting his brother's gaze with forced cordiality. Caden's eyes flicked to their entwined hands, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Your girlfriend?" he asked indifferently, as though he didn't recognize Alicia. Chapter 5 We Meet Again So Soon Alicia's nerves coiled tight like a spring. That voice... Her messy thoughts blurred into chaos, but one thing broke through the haze--Joshua's calm declaration. "Alicia and I have been married for two years now. She cares about me, so we kept it low-key. Just went straight for the registration; no ceremony. You were busy abroad at the time, so we didn't bother you." Caden arched a brow, his voice laced with venomous mockery. "Oh, so she's my sister-in-law." The way he spat the words "sister-in-law" felt more like a sap than a title, leaving no doubt about his contempt for her. Alicia could feel the man's sneer underneath every syllable. And all this was thanks to her so-called husband, Joshua. Her hand trembled as she snatched a tissue, vigorously wiping her hand. "Looks like Alicia's a bit of a germophobe," Caden observed, his tone a casual jab at her disgust. Joshua's expression darkened, the tension between them thickening. He hadn't expected her to humiliate him like this. "It seems I've spoiled her too much," he muttered, his voice low and tight with irritation. Caden's eyes gleamed with a dangerous glint. "If it's a serious condition, she should get treated. It could impact her role as a mother. You know how badly our father has wanted a grandchild." At this, something flickered across Joshua's eyes. Even though Alicia, his wife, was right beside him, he went ahead and lied through his teeth. "Thanks for the concern, Caden, but I already have good news for Dad. I just haven't gotten around to telling him yet." Caden's smirk deepened, his gaze flicking toward Alicia, who was about done with the bullshit of a charade. She quietly excused herself and strode off. "How far along is she?" he asked meaningfully. "Doesn't seem like she's pregnant." Joshua didn't miss a beat. "Just a month." The answer was as much a threat as it was an announcement. Now, the inheritance stakes had just been raised, and Jerald, ever focused on continuing the family line, would certainly take his unborn grandchild into consideration. Caden's smile hardened, and Joshua delivered the final blow with a smug undertone. "You'd better catch up, Caden. I can't always be one step ahead." Caden, unfazed, waved his hand lazily. "No rush." ... Alicia stepped onto the terrace, the cool night breeze washing over her skin. She drank in the fresh air hungrily to steady her nerves. Pulling out her phone, she quickly dialed the manager of the private cinema again. "Have you found the ring?" she asked anxiously. The manager hesitated, sounding troubled. "Ms. Bennett, we've searched thoroughly and questioned all the staff, but... we really couldn't find any ring." "Then..." Alicia clenched her fist, her mind racing. "Do you have the contact details of the guest who booked the room that day?" "I'm sorry, but due to our privacy policy, we can't disclose any information on our clients." Her heart sank. "I see," she sighed with resignation. "Please tell me immediately if anything turns up, okay?" In a perfect world, she could've just bought an identical ring and pass it off for the original. Unfortunately, Joshua had that ring custom-made, and it wasn't easy to replicate. After dinner, it started to rain. The relatives began to trickle out one by one. Joshua stood by her side as they made their way to the car, his eyes trailing down to her bare wrist. "If you liked that bracelet at the auction, then I can buy you something like it," he said coolly. Alicia had to resist the urge to roll her eyes sardonically. She didn't believe for a second that Joshua had a change of heart towards her. "Trying to buy my silence, huh?" Her words were sharp, slicing right through Joshua's tender facade. "No need. I have no desire to be tangled up in your affairs." Joshua hadn't intended to sound like that, but her mocking tone struck a nerve. His jaw clenched, and a bitter smile crossed his lips. "Fine. Don't take it. The money I spend on you is a waste anyway." Alicia bit the inside of her cheek before adding firmly, "Joshua, I already told you. I'm willing to leave this marriage empty-handed. Let's sign the divorce papers tomorrow morning and end this once and for all." His smile twisted into something dark, something dangerous. "What about the ring?" "I lost it." Joshua's eyes narrowed, his tone unrelenting. "I don't care about anything else. I want the ring." She could barely contain her frustration, her breath hitching as he delivered his final blow. "If you can't find it," he said coldly, "I'll assume you're holding onto it because you still care about me." Just then, Joshua's phone rang; it was Lilliana calling. "Joshua." She mewled his name pitifully. "The thunder is so loud. I'm scared to sleep alone... Can you come over?" The car wasn't heading anywhere near Lilliana's and Joshua was furious with Alicia, so without a second thought, he kicked her out into the rain and sped off. He didn't even leave her an umbrella. Alicia stood frozen by the roadside, the downpour quickly soaking through her clothes. The cold rain seeped into her bones, chilling her to the core. Gritting her chattering teeth, she swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth and began trudging along the drenched pavement. Behind her, the soft hum of an engine crept closer. A sleek, low-profile Maybach rolled up beside her, its headlights cutting through the rain. "Mr. Ward," the driver said, glancing back, "I believe that's Ms. Bennett." The car slowed to a stop. Caden glanced out the window, his sharp eyes narrowing on Alicia's lonesome figure. She had just paused, her fingers gathering the fabric of her soaked dress, tying it up to ease her stride. Caden's lips curled into a faint. "Invite her inside," he drawled. The car came to a halt next to Alicia. The driver stepped out, holding a large umbrella over her head, his voice polite. "Ms. Bennett, it's hard to find a cab at this hour. May I offer you a ride home?" Alicia's eyes flicked up, recognizing the man as the Yates family's driver. She hesitated for a moment before nodding, her voice soft but steady. "Thank you. Sorry for the inconvenience." However, as soon as she slipped into the backseat of the car, she locked eyes with its other passenger--Caden. "We meet again so soon, sister-in-law?" His voice, smooth as velvet, carried a hint of mischief. ...... 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/63310322-fb_contact-e	Graceful Gales	https://www.facebook.com/61566363901062/	136	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	VIDEO		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/63310322-fb_contact-ena265_2-1228-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=060236&accid=461757146675392&exdata=862D17A8066703E13C0E834547E4A77C47FC4B79F413625B	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481250279_1170934458094883_7144918993303921017_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=a4mQdA5m1uIQ7kNvgGiPAWW&_nc_oc=AdhNz9BF3bPRMza4PsuzBqRV-8puUmZp8TwUR_T5ZrglJ7w-GayB0Wm1eJ_8hy_o9VjeDrhtBG8w2T4IMKzvuHCt&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AKKs2JOQirhir41eNtIzQ_6&oh=00_AYBZuR4QHz8BZN12n6r0f0C1GkVyDCaMi0nBjRuMYcuRTA&oe=67CB8C62	PERSON_PROFILE	Graceful Gales	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,073	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759		Fifteen years ago, Evan, a genius boy and heir to the esteemed Bailey family, was taken in by the Harrison family after losing his parents and enduring torment from their son. Luckily, Evan's four stunning aunts—each possessing unique prowess as a powerful warrior, celebrated actress, miracle-working doctor, and successful business tycoon—found him, showering Evan with love. Together, they orchestrated retribution against those who had wronged him.	WATCH_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreels.com/16084322en-fb-x613-en-	TV short	https://www.facebook.com/61564918915033/	4,388	1969-12-31 18:00	Watch more	fbweb.moboreels.com	VIDEO		https://fbweb.moboreels.com/16084322en-fb-x613-en-core1-video.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=851109&jump=0&exdata=388E756C4079F1EF2E499EA4F630E9205E9DD4013F612367	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481505047_9195188917243142_2673135543316231166_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=I_5oqm2v1skQ7kNvgHQ5kwL&_nc_oc=AdhapgtzM-923-Grp6lk80MM-52QqUHfn9VFYE0Gl-pcm3bOwpmzTuwFuoiHHjPDdO8fRQcrqcB_rpJOPFoKG_HE&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AKKs2JOQirhir41eNtIzQ_6&oh=00_AYCK5YDOnUuiIfzB9KwUJ_NvIGqY0G_lv3Use7N3lE8j-w&oe=67CB8F37	PERSON_PROFILE	TV short	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,079	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2747080}'	Yes	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	Read the Full Version👉	For seven years, I've been Castro Harrison's secret lover. Our love was hidden in the shadows, but his kisses and promises kept me willing to stay. I thought he would finally acknowledge me—until that day when I overheard him talking with his friends. It turned out I was nothing more than a substitute. That night, I finally stepped into the room he had forbidden me from entering. On the desk, there was a picture frame—inside, a photo of him and another woman locked in a tight embrace, the Eiffel Tower in Paris in the background. At that moment, my heart turned completely cold. I erased every trace of myself in a single night and left without looking back. One minute before my flight took off, I sent my brother a message. "This afternoon, have the man you chose come and register the marriage." For seven years, I've been in a secret relationship with Castro Harrison, my brother's best friend. Just as I was hoping he'd propose, I tracked his location to a private lounge at an upscale restaurant, where I found they were joking about me. "Castro, now that Oriana's back from London, what are you going to do about that replacement?" Castro remained silent, his lack of response speaking volumes. The tension in the air was broken by another friend's sardonic laugh. "You've got to hand it to Castro–having the nerve to pursue William Blackwood's sister while Oriana was away. Now that you've had your fun, and Oriana's back..." "Well, Oriana deserved it after how coldly she left. A replacement was just what she needed to teach her a lesson!" ...... The next day, Castro took me to Oriana's welcome-home party at the Blackwood Estate, lavishing attention on me with an almost theatrical display of affection. But when Oriana ran out in tears, her Chanel dress stained with wine, Castro pushed me aside without a second thought and rush out. I returned home alone, my cream silk blouse ruined by scalding soup and my skin was still stinging. With trembling hands, I finally opened the door to his study---the one room he'd always declared off-limits. There, prominently displayed on his mahogany desk, was a photograph of him and Oriana in Paris, the Eiffel Tower gleaming behind their embracing figures. My heart turned to ice as I dialed my brother's number in Switzerland. "William... about that arranged marriage–I'll do it." "Aveline?" My brother's voice softened with concern, catching the unfamiliar strain in my tone. "What's wrong? This doesn't sound like you at all." A lump formed in my throat, but I forced a light laugh. "Nothing's wrong. I just realized - marriage is inevitable, isn't it? Does it really matter who it is?" "Besides," I continued, trying to keep my voice steady. "I trust your and father's judgment. Even for a business merger marriage, I know you would have vetted the candidate thoroughly." William's relief was audible through the phone. "I'm glad you're being sensible about this. When are you coming back? Would you like to meet him first before making your final decision?" "No need. The sooner we proceed, the sooner we can resolve the company's crisis. Go ahead and start planning the wedding. Let's set it for... a month from now." "Perfect! By the way, have you heard from Castro?" he coninued, "His first love is finally back in town. You should invite him to the wedding - let him share in your happiness." So William knew about Oriana too. No wonder Castro never let me tell my brother about us. I lowered my eyes, concealing the pain that threatened to spill over. "Don't bother him, Will. We're... not that close." Hearing the door unlock, I quickly said goodbye and ended the call. I looked up to find Castro leaning against the doorframe, his signature smirk playing across his lips. "Not close to whom?" "You." My honest answer only made his smirk widen as he pulled me into his arms. "Oh really?" His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "Should we discuss just how 'not close' we are? All those nights together weren't close enough?" His breath was hot against my ear, and for the first time, his intimate gesture made my skin crawl instead of flutter. As I struggled, I caught sight of the lipstick stain on his collar - a shade I'd never worn. The movement aggravated my scalds, sending sharp stabs of pain through my body until tears sprang to my eyes. "What's wrong, sweetheart? Are you hurt?" My tears seemed to spark genuine panic in Castro. When he pushed up my sleeve and saw the angry red scalds on my wrist, his voice trembled with concern. “God, when did this happen? Why didn't you tell me you were scalded?” He seemed to have completely forgotten about the incident at the party. I remained silent, unsure whether to remind him and shatter his façade of devotion. "Stop crying, darling. Let me get some medicine for that." He stroked my hair soothingly before standing to retrieve the first aid kit, muttering as he walked. "You're still such a child sometimes, aren't you? So sensitive to pain, so quick to tears. What would you do without me?" I stared numbly at the scalds on my wrist. Yes, what would I do without him after seven years of his "protection"? But Castro... I don't want you anymore. I don't want this false love anymore! I spent a restless night, tossing and turning, my skin clammy with fever sweat on the sheets. At dawn, Castro tried to coax me out of bed. When I mumbled protests and pushed him away, he leaned in with an amused smile to kiss me. For the first time in seven years, his kiss made me flinch. My hand instinctively rose to slap him but I caught myself. Thankfully, it was just a brief peck. "Awake yet, sleeping beauty?" he teased. I turned away, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "It's Saturday. Why can't you let me sleep?" His expression softened with concern. "You were running a fever last night. Come on, we need to get you to the hospital." Though I felt better, his insistence won out and I reluctantly got dressed. In the hospital corridor, we ran into Oriana. She was hobbling along alone, clearly having injured her ankle. Castro's gentle demeanor vanished instantly. His brow furrowed with worry as he rushed to her side, steadying her with his hands. "What happened to you?" Oriana gave him a warm smile, then glanced meaningfully at me. "Just twisted my ankle. What a coincidence seeing you both here." Castro tensed, throwing me a quick, guilty look. "Ah yes, my friend's sister wasn't feeling well. Brought her in to check her fever." I was long used to this charade. From the moment Castro decided to keep our relationship secret, he'd introduced me to all his friends as his best friend's sister who he'd promised to look after. Only his innermost circle knew the truth about us. "You're such a good guardian to the poor girl." Oriana nodded sympathetically. Well, don't let me keep you - my appointment's down that way." She gestured toward a clinic door further down the hall. When she started to hop again, Castro didn't hesitate. He swept her up into his arms bridal-style. "Let me take you there." he said eagerly, "Aveline, wait here for me, alright?" Watching them, something inside me crumbled. My fever seemed to return full force, leaving me weak and dizzy. I leaned against the cold hospital wall, not bothering to respond. The stark white corridor suddenly felt endless and empty, much like my future without him. Castro didn't wait for my response - he was already carrying Oriana toward the clinic, her arms wrapped around his neck. How telling. No matter how well he played his part, his true feelings always surfaced around Oriana, betraying everything he tried to hide. Yet he seemed completely oblivious to his own transparency. I let out a bitter laugh and headed to my own appointment. My suspicions were confirmed - my temperature was 106°F. The doctor explained that my untreated scalds, combined with emotional stress, had led to an infection. I needed immediate IV antibiotics. My finger hovered over Castro's number out of habit before I caught myself. Habits really are terrifying things, aren't they? With a self-deprecating smile, I handled everything alone - getting the prescription and finding the IV treatment room. After the treatment, I felt even worse, nearly collapsing as I tried to walk. However, Castro hadn't returned - not even a text or call. Reluctantly, I called him. "You're still at the hospital?" He sounded surprised. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I was going to drop Oriana home quickly and come back, but her stomach condition flared up and..." But his explanation was cut short by a waitress's voice in the background: "Sir, your meals are served. Buon apetite!" Despite his rushed attempt to muffle the phone, I heard every word. "It's fine. I can handle on my own!" I said, as much to convince myself as him. Before I could hang up, he called out, "Aveline, go home first. I'll explain everything later." What was there to explain? Just another lie to add to his collection. I ended the call and ordered an Uber home. Castro didn't return that night. Unable to sleep through the New Year's fireworks outside, I worked on some jewelry designs for my clients on my iPad. Accidentally touching the messaging app icon, I saw Oriana's social media post from an hour ago - a stunning photo of fireworks lighting up the night sky, captioned: "After years of wandering, I've come home to you. The fireworks welcome me back, just as brilliant as your love. Worth every moment of waiting." I stared at the screen for a long moment before realizing I was logged into Castro's account on my iPad. I had no interest in reading their intimate messages. I logged out immediately, trying to ignore the hollow feeling in my heart. The next morning, feeling somewhat better, I arrived at the design firm right on time. Sarah, my creative director, held my resignation letter with mixed emotions when I told her about returning home for marriage. "First my best jewelry designer leaves for marriage," she sighed, shaking her head. "The studio won't be the same without you." Words failed me, so I hugged her instead, grateful for her mentorship over the years. News of my departure spread quickly through the office. My colleagues insisted on throwing me a farewell dinner. I suggested the Italian restaurant Castro and I frequented - partly because I didn't know many others, but mostly because their seafood risotto was exceptional. During dinner, I excused myself to the wash my hand, only to find Oriana touching up her makeup at the marble vanity. "What a coincidence!" She smiled warmly at my reflection. "You know, Castro first brought me here during our college days. We've had so many special moments in this place since then." I returned a polite smile and turned to leave, seeing no reason for small talk between us. But Oriana wasn't finished. She called after me, "I noticed something the other night - Castro always rinses the spicy sauce off your shrimp. Are you sensitive to spice too?" That single word - "too" - made me freeze. The truth was, I loved spicy food. But Castro always insisted on rinsing my shrimp, claiming spicy food wasn't ladylike. I'd believed he was being protective. Now I realized he was simply acting on habit. It’s Oriana, who couldn't handle spice. Seeing my silence, she tilted her head, studying my face with unsettling intensity. "You know, I've been meaning to say this since I first saw you... Don't you think we look remarkably similar?" I'd never felt more humiliated. Under her triumphant gaze, I fled the bathroom, the pieces finally falling into place - I hadn't been his love, I'd been her replacement. Back in the private dining room, my colleagues' warmth slowly thawed my frozen state. Just as I was beginning to push aside the unpleasant encounter, the door swung open. Castro stood in the doorway, his Armani suit slightly disheveled, his eyes scanning the crowded room before landing on me with laser focus. In that moment of eye contact, I saw barely contained rage in his expression, though I couldn't fathom why. "Aveline." His voice cut through the chatter like ice. "A word?" Following him into the marble-lined hallway, I was utterly unprepared for what happened next. His hand connected with my cheek in a sharp crack that echoed off the pristine walls. In seven years, he had never raised a hand to me. "How dare you push Oriana?" Meeting my shocked gaze, he showed no remorse - only fury. "You knew her ankle was injured. I told you I'd explain everything later - is this your way of getting revenge?" My cheek stung where he'd struck me. Oriana limped toward us from down the hallway. Her designer blouse was rumpled and stained with water. Before I could defend myself, she collapsed dramatically to the floor. Castro shoved past me, rushing to gather her in his arms. "Why did you follow us? I told you I'd bring her to apologize," he said to Oriana, his harsh words belied by his tender tone. Oriana shook her head, tears glistening. "It's nothing serious. She probably didn't mean it. Don't be so hard on her." "If William finds out you struck his sister..." she added softly. At the mention of my brother, something flickered in Castro's eyes. But looking at Oriana, his resolve hardened. "William trusted me with her care," he said firmly. "If she needs correction, that's my responsibility." I let out a bitter laugh. "What exactly did I do? Even criminals get due process. You're denouncing and striking me without any evidence - doesn't that seem unjust to you?" Castro's fists clenched as he glared at me. "You knew there were no cameras in the restroom. That's why you chose to attack her there." The absurdity of it all made me want to laugh and cry simultaneously. "If there were no cameras, how can you be so sure it was me?" "Because Oriana wouldn't lie!" He took a step toward me, his cologne - the one she'd given him years ago, I now realized - overwhelming. "What possible reason would she have? I've known her for years. She's not capable of that kind of deception." I met his gaze, unflinching. "So I must be the liar then?" Seven years together. I'd thought that would mean something - that Castro would at least trust my character. But in Oriana's presence, those seven years might as well have been seven minutes. “Her word alone was enough to convict me. One accusation, and I was guilty beyond redemption.” The favoritism was unmistakable, his blind devotion to her undeniable. And me? I was just the understudy who'd forgotten her place. There was no point in arguing further. Ignoring Castro's angry calls, I walked away, my cheek still stinging from his slap. Not wanting to cast a shadow over my colleagues' celebration, I quietly settled the bill and texted them: "Something came up. Please enjoy the rest of the evening - dinner's on me." Back home, I found myself really seeing our apartment for the first time in seven years. Every corner held memories: the window seat where we'd shared Sunday morning coffee, the kitchen island where he'd taught me to make his grandmother's tiramisu. What once felt magical now felt poisonous, each memory a thorn in my heart. I found a moving box and spent the night methodically erasing our relationship: the matching "Beauty and Beast" slippers, the "his and hers" coffee mugs that fit together, and a whole collection of professional couple photographs - holiday cards, vacation shots, carefully staged moments of perfect happiness. These had been my security blanket, my proof that what we had was real. Now they were just artifacts of an elaborate performance. Castro didn't come home for two weeks. Between finishing my last jewelry designs,, I systematically emptied the apartment. I sold or donated every piece of furniture I'd chosen, every decorative touch I'd added. The space returned to its original state: stark minimalist, black and white, emptiness echoing off the walls. The night before my departure, I tried calling him one last time. Each attempt met with immediate rejection. Finally, a text appeared: "Unless you're ready to admit your guilt and properly apologize to Oriana, we have nothing to discuss." I laughed bitterly at my phone's screen. So be it. Some conversations were better left unsaid. My early morning flight beckoned. As I wheeled my suitcase out, this space that had once felt so precious now felt like a prison I was finally escaping. Just before boarding, my phone lit up with birthday wishes. Friends and colleagues sending hopes for my future, wishes for happiness, prayers for true love. I responded to each one before switching off my phone. As the plane lifted off, I made a silent promise to myself: I would be happy. With so many people wishing me well, how could I not be? 【5909】	LEARN_MORE	https://image.noveltells.net/landing-page/h5-1290.	FavoRead	https://www.facebook.com/100083109648305/	1,151	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	image.noveltells.net	VIDEO		https://image.noveltells.net/landing-page/h5-1290.html?id=1290&yy_appname=Favoread&badid={{ad.id}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481900656_1727502164813057_3857391000997063639_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=moNU6xmoPmoQ7kNvgFhz2BX&_nc_oc=AdiM9aMsTgId2n0N1Ot0iJs_aGRKp2dSbp6hG7U0VC3D3ni5kGVTTH127ns0spGyCcQJwa_70Ga3UyrF2FnzaxQG&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AKKs2JOQirhir41eNtIzQ_6&oh=00_AYCrV5OJtkvNmHpYV7y7vgvnufnAJHppPJY_tultRYU1FQ&oe=67CBB07E	PERSON_PROFILE	FavoRead	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,084	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2747080}'	No	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	Read the Full Version👉	For seven years, I've been Castro Harrison's secret lover. Our love was hidden in the shadows, but his kisses and promises kept me willing to stay. I thought he would finally acknowledge me—until that day when I overheard him talking with his friends. It turned out I was nothing more than a substitute. That night, I finally stepped into the room he had forbidden me from entering. On the desk, there was a picture frame—inside, a photo of him and another woman locked in a tight embrace, the Eiffel Tower in Paris in the background. At that moment, my heart turned completely cold. I erased every trace of myself in a single night and left without looking back. One minute before my flight took off, I sent my brother a message. "This afternoon, have the man you chose come and register the marriage." For seven years, I've been in a secret relationship with Castro Harrison, my brother's best friend. Just as I was hoping he'd propose, I tracked his location to a private lounge at an upscale restaurant, where I found they were joking about me. "Castro, now that Oriana's back from London, what are you going to do about that replacement?" Castro remained silent, his lack of response speaking volumes. The tension in the air was broken by another friend's sardonic laugh. "You've got to hand it to Castro–having the nerve to pursue William Blackwood's sister while Oriana was away. Now that you've had your fun, and Oriana's back..." "Well, Oriana deserved it after how coldly she left. A replacement was just what she needed to teach her a lesson!" ...... The next day, Castro took me to Oriana's welcome-home party at the Blackwood Estate, lavishing attention on me with an almost theatrical display of affection. But when Oriana ran out in tears, her Chanel dress stained with wine, Castro pushed me aside without a second thought and rush out. I returned home alone, my cream silk blouse ruined by scalding soup and my skin was still stinging. With trembling hands, I finally opened the door to his study---the one room he'd always declared off-limits. There, prominently displayed on his mahogany desk, was a photograph of him and Oriana in Paris, the Eiffel Tower gleaming behind their embracing figures. My heart turned to ice as I dialed my brother's number in Switzerland. "William... about that arranged marriage–I'll do it." "Aveline?" My brother's voice softened with concern, catching the unfamiliar strain in my tone. "What's wrong? This doesn't sound like you at all." A lump formed in my throat, but I forced a light laugh. "Nothing's wrong. I just realized - marriage is inevitable, isn't it? Does it really matter who it is?" "Besides," I continued, trying to keep my voice steady. "I trust your and father's judgment. Even for a business merger marriage, I know you would have vetted the candidate thoroughly." William's relief was audible through the phone. "I'm glad you're being sensible about this. When are you coming back? Would you like to meet him first before making your final decision?" "No need. The sooner we proceed, the sooner we can resolve the company's crisis. Go ahead and start planning the wedding. Let's set it for... a month from now." "Perfect! By the way, have you heard from Castro?" he coninued, "His first love is finally back in town. You should invite him to the wedding - let him share in your happiness." So William knew about Oriana too. No wonder Castro never let me tell my brother about us. I lowered my eyes, concealing the pain that threatened to spill over. "Don't bother him, Will. We're... not that close." Hearing the door unlock, I quickly said goodbye and ended the call. I looked up to find Castro leaning against the doorframe, his signature smirk playing across his lips. "Not close to whom?" "You." My honest answer only made his smirk widen as he pulled me into his arms. "Oh really?" His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "Should we discuss just how 'not close' we are? All those nights together weren't close enough?" His breath was hot against my ear, and for the first time, his intimate gesture made my skin crawl instead of flutter. As I struggled, I caught sight of the lipstick stain on his collar - a shade I'd never worn. The movement aggravated my scalds, sending sharp stabs of pain through my body until tears sprang to my eyes. "What's wrong, sweetheart? Are you hurt?" My tears seemed to spark genuine panic in Castro. When he pushed up my sleeve and saw the angry red scalds on my wrist, his voice trembled with concern. “God, when did this happen? Why didn't you tell me you were scalded?” He seemed to have completely forgotten about the incident at the party. I remained silent, unsure whether to remind him and shatter his façade of devotion. "Stop crying, darling. Let me get some medicine for that." He stroked my hair soothingly before standing to retrieve the first aid kit, muttering as he walked. "You're still such a child sometimes, aren't you? So sensitive to pain, so quick to tears. What would you do without me?" I stared numbly at the scalds on my wrist. Yes, what would I do without him after seven years of his "protection"? But Castro... I don't want you anymore. I don't want this false love anymore! I spent a restless night, tossing and turning, my skin clammy with fever sweat on the sheets. At dawn, Castro tried to coax me out of bed. When I mumbled protests and pushed him away, he leaned in with an amused smile to kiss me. For the first time in seven years, his kiss made me flinch. My hand instinctively rose to slap him but I caught myself. Thankfully, it was just a brief peck. "Awake yet, sleeping beauty?" he teased. I turned away, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "It's Saturday. Why can't you let me sleep?" His expression softened with concern. "You were running a fever last night. Come on, we need to get you to the hospital." Though I felt better, his insistence won out and I reluctantly got dressed. In the hospital corridor, we ran into Oriana. She was hobbling along alone, clearly having injured her ankle. Castro's gentle demeanor vanished instantly. His brow furrowed with worry as he rushed to her side, steadying her with his hands. "What happened to you?" Oriana gave him a warm smile, then glanced meaningfully at me. "Just twisted my ankle. What a coincidence seeing you both here." Castro tensed, throwing me a quick, guilty look. "Ah yes, my friend's sister wasn't feeling well. Brought her in to check her fever." I was long used to this charade. From the moment Castro decided to keep our relationship secret, he'd introduced me to all his friends as his best friend's sister who he'd promised to look after. Only his innermost circle knew the truth about us. "You're such a good guardian to the poor girl." Oriana nodded sympathetically. Well, don't let me keep you - my appointment's down that way." She gestured toward a clinic door further down the hall. When she started to hop again, Castro didn't hesitate. He swept her up into his arms bridal-style. "Let me take you there." he said eagerly, "Aveline, wait here for me, alright?" Watching them, something inside me crumbled. My fever seemed to return full force, leaving me weak and dizzy. I leaned against the cold hospital wall, not bothering to respond. The stark white corridor suddenly felt endless and empty, much like my future without him. Castro didn't wait for my response - he was already carrying Oriana toward the clinic, her arms wrapped around his neck. How telling. No matter how well he played his part, his true feelings always surfaced around Oriana, betraying everything he tried to hide. Yet he seemed completely oblivious to his own transparency. I let out a bitter laugh and headed to my own appointment. My suspicions were confirmed - my temperature was 106°F. The doctor explained that my untreated scalds, combined with emotional stress, had led to an infection. I needed immediate IV antibiotics. My finger hovered over Castro's number out of habit before I caught myself. Habits really are terrifying things, aren't they? With a self-deprecating smile, I handled everything alone - getting the prescription and finding the IV treatment room. After the treatment, I felt even worse, nearly collapsing as I tried to walk. However, Castro hadn't returned - not even a text or call. Reluctantly, I called him. "You're still at the hospital?" He sounded surprised. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I was going to drop Oriana home quickly and come back, but her stomach condition flared up and..." But his explanation was cut short by a waitress's voice in the background: "Sir, your meals are served. Buon apetite!" Despite his rushed attempt to muffle the phone, I heard every word. "It's fine. I can handle on my own!" I said, as much to convince myself as him. Before I could hang up, he called out, "Aveline, go home first. I'll explain everything later." What was there to explain? Just another lie to add to his collection. I ended the call and ordered an Uber home. Castro didn't return that night. Unable to sleep through the New Year's fireworks outside, I worked on some jewelry designs for my clients on my iPad. Accidentally touching the messaging app icon, I saw Oriana's social media post from an hour ago - a stunning photo of fireworks lighting up the night sky, captioned: "After years of wandering, I've come home to you. The fireworks welcome me back, just as brilliant as your love. Worth every moment of waiting." I stared at the screen for a long moment before realizing I was logged into Castro's account on my iPad. I had no interest in reading their intimate messages. I logged out immediately, trying to ignore the hollow feeling in my heart. The next morning, feeling somewhat better, I arrived at the design firm right on time. Sarah, my creative director, held my resignation letter with mixed emotions when I told her about returning home for marriage. "First my best jewelry designer leaves for marriage," she sighed, shaking her head. "The studio won't be the same without you." Words failed me, so I hugged her instead, grateful for her mentorship over the years. News of my departure spread quickly through the office. My colleagues insisted on throwing me a farewell dinner. I suggested the Italian restaurant Castro and I frequented - partly because I didn't know many others, but mostly because their seafood risotto was exceptional. During dinner, I excused myself to the wash my hand, only to find Oriana touching up her makeup at the marble vanity. "What a coincidence!" She smiled warmly at my reflection. "You know, Castro first brought me here during our college days. We've had so many special moments in this place since then." I returned a polite smile and turned to leave, seeing no reason for small talk between us. But Oriana wasn't finished. She called after me, "I noticed something the other night - Castro always rinses the spicy sauce off your shrimp. Are you sensitive to spice too?" That single word - "too" - made me freeze. The truth was, I loved spicy food. But Castro always insisted on rinsing my shrimp, claiming spicy food wasn't ladylike. I'd believed he was being protective. Now I realized he was simply acting on habit. It’s Oriana, who couldn't handle spice. Seeing my silence, she tilted her head, studying my face with unsettling intensity. "You know, I've been meaning to say this since I first saw you... Don't you think we look remarkably similar?" I'd never felt more humiliated. Under her triumphant gaze, I fled the bathroom, the pieces finally falling into place - I hadn't been his love, I'd been her replacement. Back in the private dining room, my colleagues' warmth slowly thawed my frozen state. Just as I was beginning to push aside the unpleasant encounter, the door swung open. Castro stood in the doorway, his Armani suit slightly disheveled, his eyes scanning the crowded room before landing on me with laser focus. In that moment of eye contact, I saw barely contained rage in his expression, though I couldn't fathom why. "Aveline." His voice cut through the chatter like ice. "A word?" Following him into the marble-lined hallway, I was utterly unprepared for what happened next. His hand connected with my cheek in a sharp crack that echoed off the pristine walls. In seven years, he had never raised a hand to me. "How dare you push Oriana?" Meeting my shocked gaze, he showed no remorse - only fury. "You knew her ankle was injured. I told you I'd explain everything later - is this your way of getting revenge?" My cheek stung where he'd struck me. Oriana limped toward us from down the hallway. Her designer blouse was rumpled and stained with water. Before I could defend myself, she collapsed dramatically to the floor. Castro shoved past me, rushing to gather her in his arms. "Why did you follow us? I told you I'd bring her to apologize," he said to Oriana, his harsh words belied by his tender tone. Oriana shook her head, tears glistening. "It's nothing serious. She probably didn't mean it. Don't be so hard on her." "If William finds out you struck his sister..." she added softly. At the mention of my brother, something flickered in Castro's eyes. But looking at Oriana, his resolve hardened. "William trusted me with her care," he said firmly. "If she needs correction, that's my responsibility." I let out a bitter laugh. "What exactly did I do? Even criminals get due process. You're denouncing and striking me without any evidence - doesn't that seem unjust to you?" Castro's fists clenched as he glared at me. "You knew there were no cameras in the restroom. That's why you chose to attack her there." The absurdity of it all made me want to laugh and cry simultaneously. "If there were no cameras, how can you be so sure it was me?" "Because Oriana wouldn't lie!" He took a step toward me, his cologne - the one she'd given him years ago, I now realized - overwhelming. "What possible reason would she have? I've known her for years. She's not capable of that kind of deception." I met his gaze, unflinching. "So I must be the liar then?" Seven years together. I'd thought that would mean something - that Castro would at least trust my character. But in Oriana's presence, those seven years might as well have been seven minutes. “Her word alone was enough to convict me. One accusation, and I was guilty beyond redemption.” The favoritism was unmistakable, his blind devotion to her undeniable. And me? I was just the understudy who'd forgotten her place. There was no point in arguing further. Ignoring Castro's angry calls, I walked away, my cheek still stinging from his slap. Not wanting to cast a shadow over my colleagues' celebration, I quietly settled the bill and texted them: "Something came up. Please enjoy the rest of the evening - dinner's on me." Back home, I found myself really seeing our apartment for the first time in seven years. Every corner held memories: the window seat where we'd shared Sunday morning coffee, the kitchen island where he'd taught me to make his grandmother's tiramisu. What once felt magical now felt poisonous, each memory a thorn in my heart. I found a moving box and spent the night methodically erasing our relationship: the matching "Beauty and Beast" slippers, the "his and hers" coffee mugs that fit together, and a whole collection of professional couple photographs - holiday cards, vacation shots, carefully staged moments of perfect happiness. These had been my security blanket, my proof that what we had was real. Now they were just artifacts of an elaborate performance. Castro didn't come home for two weeks. Between finishing my last jewelry designs,, I systematically emptied the apartment. I sold or donated every piece of furniture I'd chosen, every decorative touch I'd added. The space returned to its original state: stark minimalist, black and white, emptiness echoing off the walls. The night before my departure, I tried calling him one last time. Each attempt met with immediate rejection. Finally, a text appeared: "Unless you're ready to admit your guilt and properly apologize to Oriana, we have nothing to discuss." I laughed bitterly at my phone's screen. So be it. Some conversations were better left unsaid. My early morning flight beckoned. As I wheeled my suitcase out, this space that had once felt so precious now felt like a prison I was finally escaping. Just before boarding, my phone lit up with birthday wishes. Friends and colleagues sending hopes for my future, wishes for happiness, prayers for true love. I responded to each one before switching off my phone. As the plane lifted off, I made a silent promise to myself: I would be happy. With so many people wishing me well, how could I not be? 【5909】	LEARN_MORE	https://image.noveltells.net/landing-page/h5-1290.	FavoRead	https://www.facebook.com/100083109648305/	1,151	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	image.noveltells.net	IMAGE	For seven years, I've been in a secret relationship with Castro Harrison, my brother's best friend. Just as I was hoping he'd propose, I tracked his location to a private lounge at an upscale restaurant, where I found they were joking about me.	https://image.noveltells.net/landing-page/h5-1290.html?id=1290&yy_appname=Favoread&badid={{ad.id}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480767152_1827289558033270_4365444825794395552_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=kHlbHxgw4b0Q7kNvgHM17OL&_nc_oc=Adi1_jxlhhLWHVAgV0w4u1uZgd_EBTMRk8oxdMUunI4V56Y502fJ32pta-mINJbrInvSYTOKq1S72e6BKgdDTry0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AKKs2JOQirhir41eNtIzQ_6&oh=00_AYBijBYMuz_o5wxEVJfTK_PugPnZBSpIVheKZKTE45n5vw&oe=67CB9A9F	PERSON_PROFILE	FavoRead	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,085	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2747080}'	Yes	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	Read the Full Version👉	For seven years, I've been Castro Harrison's secret lover. Our love was hidden in the shadows, but his kisses and promises kept me willing to stay. I thought he would finally acknowledge me—until that day when I overheard him talking with his friends. It turned out I was nothing more than a substitute. That night, I finally stepped into the room he had forbidden me from entering. On the desk, there was a picture frame—inside, a photo of him and another woman locked in a tight embrace, the Eiffel Tower in Paris in the background. At that moment, my heart turned completely cold. I erased every trace of myself in a single night and left without looking back. One minute before my flight took off, I sent my brother a message. "This afternoon, have the man you chose come and register the marriage." For seven years, I've been in a secret relationship with Castro Harrison, my brother's best friend. Just as I was hoping he'd propose, I tracked his location to a private lounge at an upscale restaurant, where I found they were joking about me. "Castro, now that Oriana's back from London, what are you going to do about that replacement?" Castro remained silent, his lack of response speaking volumes. The tension in the air was broken by another friend's sardonic laugh. "You've got to hand it to Castro–having the nerve to pursue William Blackwood's sister while Oriana was away. Now that you've had your fun, and Oriana's back..." "Well, Oriana deserved it after how coldly she left. A replacement was just what she needed to teach her a lesson!" ...... The next day, Castro took me to Oriana's welcome-home party at the Blackwood Estate, lavishing attention on me with an almost theatrical display of affection. But when Oriana ran out in tears, her Chanel dress stained with wine, Castro pushed me aside without a second thought and rush out. I returned home alone, my cream silk blouse ruined by scalding soup and my skin was still stinging. With trembling hands, I finally opened the door to his study---the one room he'd always declared off-limits. There, prominently displayed on his mahogany desk, was a photograph of him and Oriana in Paris, the Eiffel Tower gleaming behind their embracing figures. My heart turned to ice as I dialed my brother's number in Switzerland. "William... about that arranged marriage–I'll do it." "Aveline?" My brother's voice softened with concern, catching the unfamiliar strain in my tone. "What's wrong? This doesn't sound like you at all." A lump formed in my throat, but I forced a light laugh. "Nothing's wrong. I just realized - marriage is inevitable, isn't it? Does it really matter who it is?" "Besides," I continued, trying to keep my voice steady. "I trust your and father's judgment. Even for a business merger marriage, I know you would have vetted the candidate thoroughly." William's relief was audible through the phone. "I'm glad you're being sensible about this. When are you coming back? Would you like to meet him first before making your final decision?" "No need. The sooner we proceed, the sooner we can resolve the company's crisis. Go ahead and start planning the wedding. Let's set it for... a month from now." "Perfect! By the way, have you heard from Castro?" he coninued, "His first love is finally back in town. You should invite him to the wedding - let him share in your happiness." So William knew about Oriana too. No wonder Castro never let me tell my brother about us. I lowered my eyes, concealing the pain that threatened to spill over. "Don't bother him, Will. We're... not that close." Hearing the door unlock, I quickly said goodbye and ended the call. I looked up to find Castro leaning against the doorframe, his signature smirk playing across his lips. "Not close to whom?" "You." My honest answer only made his smirk widen as he pulled me into his arms. "Oh really?" His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "Should we discuss just how 'not close' we are? All those nights together weren't close enough?" His breath was hot against my ear, and for the first time, his intimate gesture made my skin crawl instead of flutter. As I struggled, I caught sight of the lipstick stain on his collar - a shade I'd never worn. The movement aggravated my scalds, sending sharp stabs of pain through my body until tears sprang to my eyes. "What's wrong, sweetheart? Are you hurt?" My tears seemed to spark genuine panic in Castro. When he pushed up my sleeve and saw the angry red scalds on my wrist, his voice trembled with concern. “God, when did this happen? Why didn't you tell me you were scalded?” He seemed to have completely forgotten about the incident at the party. I remained silent, unsure whether to remind him and shatter his façade of devotion. "Stop crying, darling. Let me get some medicine for that." He stroked my hair soothingly before standing to retrieve the first aid kit, muttering as he walked. "You're still such a child sometimes, aren't you? So sensitive to pain, so quick to tears. What would you do without me?" I stared numbly at the scalds on my wrist. Yes, what would I do without him after seven years of his "protection"? But Castro... I don't want you anymore. I don't want this false love anymore! I spent a restless night, tossing and turning, my skin clammy with fever sweat on the sheets. At dawn, Castro tried to coax me out of bed. When I mumbled protests and pushed him away, he leaned in with an amused smile to kiss me. For the first time in seven years, his kiss made me flinch. My hand instinctively rose to slap him but I caught myself. Thankfully, it was just a brief peck. "Awake yet, sleeping beauty?" he teased. I turned away, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "It's Saturday. Why can't you let me sleep?" His expression softened with concern. "You were running a fever last night. Come on, we need to get you to the hospital." Though I felt better, his insistence won out and I reluctantly got dressed. In the hospital corridor, we ran into Oriana. She was hobbling along alone, clearly having injured her ankle. Castro's gentle demeanor vanished instantly. His brow furrowed with worry as he rushed to her side, steadying her with his hands. "What happened to you?" Oriana gave him a warm smile, then glanced meaningfully at me. "Just twisted my ankle. What a coincidence seeing you both here." Castro tensed, throwing me a quick, guilty look. "Ah yes, my friend's sister wasn't feeling well. Brought her in to check her fever." I was long used to this charade. From the moment Castro decided to keep our relationship secret, he'd introduced me to all his friends as his best friend's sister who he'd promised to look after. Only his innermost circle knew the truth about us. "You're such a good guardian to the poor girl." Oriana nodded sympathetically. Well, don't let me keep you - my appointment's down that way." She gestured toward a clinic door further down the hall. When she started to hop again, Castro didn't hesitate. He swept her up into his arms bridal-style. "Let me take you there." he said eagerly, "Aveline, wait here for me, alright?" Watching them, something inside me crumbled. My fever seemed to return full force, leaving me weak and dizzy. I leaned against the cold hospital wall, not bothering to respond. The stark white corridor suddenly felt endless and empty, much like my future without him. Castro didn't wait for my response - he was already carrying Oriana toward the clinic, her arms wrapped around his neck. How telling. No matter how well he played his part, his true feelings always surfaced around Oriana, betraying everything he tried to hide. Yet he seemed completely oblivious to his own transparency. I let out a bitter laugh and headed to my own appointment. My suspicions were confirmed - my temperature was 106°F. The doctor explained that my untreated scalds, combined with emotional stress, had led to an infection. I needed immediate IV antibiotics. My finger hovered over Castro's number out of habit before I caught myself. Habits really are terrifying things, aren't they? With a self-deprecating smile, I handled everything alone - getting the prescription and finding the IV treatment room. After the treatment, I felt even worse, nearly collapsing as I tried to walk. However, Castro hadn't returned - not even a text or call. Reluctantly, I called him. "You're still at the hospital?" He sounded surprised. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I was going to drop Oriana home quickly and come back, but her stomach condition flared up and..." But his explanation was cut short by a waitress's voice in the background: "Sir, your meals are served. Buon apetite!" Despite his rushed attempt to muffle the phone, I heard every word. "It's fine. I can handle on my own!" I said, as much to convince myself as him. Before I could hang up, he called out, "Aveline, go home first. I'll explain everything later." What was there to explain? Just another lie to add to his collection. I ended the call and ordered an Uber home. Castro didn't return that night. Unable to sleep through the New Year's fireworks outside, I worked on some jewelry designs for my clients on my iPad. Accidentally touching the messaging app icon, I saw Oriana's social media post from an hour ago - a stunning photo of fireworks lighting up the night sky, captioned: "After years of wandering, I've come home to you. The fireworks welcome me back, just as brilliant as your love. Worth every moment of waiting." I stared at the screen for a long moment before realizing I was logged into Castro's account on my iPad. I had no interest in reading their intimate messages. I logged out immediately, trying to ignore the hollow feeling in my heart. The next morning, feeling somewhat better, I arrived at the design firm right on time. Sarah, my creative director, held my resignation letter with mixed emotions when I told her about returning home for marriage. "First my best jewelry designer leaves for marriage," she sighed, shaking her head. "The studio won't be the same without you." Words failed me, so I hugged her instead, grateful for her mentorship over the years. News of my departure spread quickly through the office. My colleagues insisted on throwing me a farewell dinner. I suggested the Italian restaurant Castro and I frequented - partly because I didn't know many others, but mostly because their seafood risotto was exceptional. During dinner, I excused myself to the wash my hand, only to find Oriana touching up her makeup at the marble vanity. "What a coincidence!" She smiled warmly at my reflection. "You know, Castro first brought me here during our college days. We've had so many special moments in this place since then." I returned a polite smile and turned to leave, seeing no reason for small talk between us. But Oriana wasn't finished. She called after me, "I noticed something the other night - Castro always rinses the spicy sauce off your shrimp. Are you sensitive to spice too?" That single word - "too" - made me freeze. The truth was, I loved spicy food. But Castro always insisted on rinsing my shrimp, claiming spicy food wasn't ladylike. I'd believed he was being protective. Now I realized he was simply acting on habit. It’s Oriana, who couldn't handle spice. Seeing my silence, she tilted her head, studying my face with unsettling intensity. "You know, I've been meaning to say this since I first saw you... Don't you think we look remarkably similar?" I'd never felt more humiliated. Under her triumphant gaze, I fled the bathroom, the pieces finally falling into place - I hadn't been his love, I'd been her replacement. Back in the private dining room, my colleagues' warmth slowly thawed my frozen state. Just as I was beginning to push aside the unpleasant encounter, the door swung open. Castro stood in the doorway, his Armani suit slightly disheveled, his eyes scanning the crowded room before landing on me with laser focus. In that moment of eye contact, I saw barely contained rage in his expression, though I couldn't fathom why. "Aveline." His voice cut through the chatter like ice. "A word?" Following him into the marble-lined hallway, I was utterly unprepared for what happened next. His hand connected with my cheek in a sharp crack that echoed off the pristine walls. In seven years, he had never raised a hand to me. "How dare you push Oriana?" Meeting my shocked gaze, he showed no remorse - only fury. "You knew her ankle was injured. I told you I'd explain everything later - is this your way of getting revenge?" My cheek stung where he'd struck me. Oriana limped toward us from down the hallway. Her designer blouse was rumpled and stained with water. Before I could defend myself, she collapsed dramatically to the floor. Castro shoved past me, rushing to gather her in his arms. "Why did you follow us? I told you I'd bring her to apologize," he said to Oriana, his harsh words belied by his tender tone. Oriana shook her head, tears glistening. "It's nothing serious. She probably didn't mean it. Don't be so hard on her." "If William finds out you struck his sister..." she added softly. At the mention of my brother, something flickered in Castro's eyes. But looking at Oriana, his resolve hardened. "William trusted me with her care," he said firmly. "If she needs correction, that's my responsibility." I let out a bitter laugh. "What exactly did I do? Even criminals get due process. You're denouncing and striking me without any evidence - doesn't that seem unjust to you?" Castro's fists clenched as he glared at me. "You knew there were no cameras in the restroom. That's why you chose to attack her there." The absurdity of it all made me want to laugh and cry simultaneously. "If there were no cameras, how can you be so sure it was me?" "Because Oriana wouldn't lie!" He took a step toward me, his cologne - the one she'd given him years ago, I now realized - overwhelming. "What possible reason would she have? I've known her for years. She's not capable of that kind of deception." I met his gaze, unflinching. "So I must be the liar then?" Seven years together. I'd thought that would mean something - that Castro would at least trust my character. But in Oriana's presence, those seven years might as well have been seven minutes. “Her word alone was enough to convict me. One accusation, and I was guilty beyond redemption.” The favoritism was unmistakable, his blind devotion to her undeniable. And me? I was just the understudy who'd forgotten her place. There was no point in arguing further. Ignoring Castro's angry calls, I walked away, my cheek still stinging from his slap. Not wanting to cast a shadow over my colleagues' celebration, I quietly settled the bill and texted them: "Something came up. Please enjoy the rest of the evening - dinner's on me." Back home, I found myself really seeing our apartment for the first time in seven years. Every corner held memories: the window seat where we'd shared Sunday morning coffee, the kitchen island where he'd taught me to make his grandmother's tiramisu. What once felt magical now felt poisonous, each memory a thorn in my heart. I found a moving box and spent the night methodically erasing our relationship: the matching "Beauty and Beast" slippers, the "his and hers" coffee mugs that fit together, and a whole collection of professional couple photographs - holiday cards, vacation shots, carefully staged moments of perfect happiness. These had been my security blanket, my proof that what we had was real. Now they were just artifacts of an elaborate performance. Castro didn't come home for two weeks. Between finishing my last jewelry designs,, I systematically emptied the apartment. I sold or donated every piece of furniture I'd chosen, every decorative touch I'd added. The space returned to its original state: stark minimalist, black and white, emptiness echoing off the walls. The night before my departure, I tried calling him one last time. Each attempt met with immediate rejection. Finally, a text appeared: "Unless you're ready to admit your guilt and properly apologize to Oriana, we have nothing to discuss." I laughed bitterly at my phone's screen. So be it. Some conversations were better left unsaid. My early morning flight beckoned. As I wheeled my suitcase out, this space that had once felt so precious now felt like a prison I was finally escaping. Just before boarding, my phone lit up with birthday wishes. Friends and colleagues sending hopes for my future, wishes for happiness, prayers for true love. I responded to each one before switching off my phone. As the plane lifted off, I made a silent promise to myself: I would be happy. With so many people wishing me well, how could I not be? 【5909】	LEARN_MORE	https://image.noveltells.net/landing-page/h5-1290.	FavoRead	https://www.facebook.com/100083109648305/	1,151	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	image.noveltells.net	IMAGE	For seven years, I've been in a secret relationship with Castro Harrison, my brother's best friend. Just as I was hoping he'd propose, I tracked his location to a private lounge at an upscale restaurant, where I found they were joking about me.	https://image.noveltells.net/landing-page/h5-1290.html?id=1290&yy_appname=Favoread&badid={{ad.id}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480697956_509913168817140_833289645117008124_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=p5qW4gPT1gwQ7kNvgHFvR9U&_nc_oc=AdhEFO4PBkxLl7wLDCYhnAV-pV4lDxoWNMK5y6wmDgRrsagQcszTOtWvdPN_utHCfhSkGJ9aUWsKj7krX24RVXQ7&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AKKs2JOQirhir41eNtIzQ_6&oh=00_AYCs2rMnazDaNx4Iy3IKNvorkcsen0gn0K6vtFtidh1ndQ&oe=67CB908D	PERSON_PROFILE	FavoRead	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,101	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	Guide to Magnesium and Health Benefits 🩺	Ever wonder why magnesium is essential for health? 🧘‍♀️ Find out how it impacts your well-being. Learn more.	LEARN_MORE	https://searchlabz.com/understanding-the-importanc	Finally Media	https://www.facebook.com/100067978975745/	265	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	searchlabz.com	IMAGE	Understanding the importance of magnesium is becoming increasingly crucial in today's health-conscious society. Magnesium serves as a powerhouse mineral essential for over 300 enzymatic reactions, including energy production, muscle and nerve function, and blood sugar regulation. Despite its signifi...	https://searchlabz.com/understanding-the-importance-of-magnesium/?cid=ch15060+ch15062&adtext=Guide to Magnesium and Health Benefits �&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_medium={{ad.id}}&utm_source=fb&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&fb_pixel_id=1178421023860202&fpcv=Lead&lang=en_US&stid=8100103614	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481077377_611105178483496_498514413379467525_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=FC1cr-2cPpIQ7kNvgHlZ5wk&_nc_oc=AdgwGOIc42o9OIR_vPh8q9HqN60qMg5wN_kArIlE91f61X-mmZki2HMfF-yfpvb5C7qJt8hrCyw5RblzsXS4T5X9&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AWoS5QOx-QwgPLtIMHVdqyb&oh=00_AYB7I9W0EXcyAzLHCdssQziUvKwqctRySxqubpaLp7hQjQ&oe=67CB8926	PERSON_PROFILE	Finally Media	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,103	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2747119}'	Yes	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	Guide to Magnesium's Health Benefits ✨	Did you know magnesium can support your overall well-being? 🧘‍♀️ Learn more.	LEARN_MORE	https://searchlabz.com/understanding-the-importanc	Finally Media	https://www.facebook.com/100067978975745/	265	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	searchlabz.com	IMAGE	Understanding the importance of magnesium is becoming increasingly crucial in today's health-conscious society. Magnesium serves as a powerhouse mineral essential for over 300 enzymatic reactions, including energy production, muscle and nerve function, and blood sugar regulation. Despite its signifi...	https://searchlabz.com/understanding-the-importance-of-magnesium/?cid=ch15060+ch15066&adtext=Guide to Magnesium's Health Benefits �&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_medium={{ad.id}}&utm_source=fb&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&fb_pixel_id=1178421023860202&fpcv=Lead&lang=en_US&stid=1632776705	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481200767_1467685010890944_3053555419836633881_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=IpQ5Mxu7VcgQ7kNvgFRuU3u&_nc_oc=AdgFlGHCkER0dw-E-zVVonEyWDtD222v5vXYwkUwigncHfiFYuokWXe3hSpxSb3A7mU8zSHFaPTtfuNbo6jFs4Uo&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AWoS5QOx-QwgPLtIMHVdqyb&oh=00_AYBkeoWlOpRFUZ02TQetTPrGhL4S2lGztK2CJobHMrJuQg&oe=67CB91AE	PERSON_PROFILE	Finally Media	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,107	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	Guide to Magnesium's Role in Your Diet 🌿	Ever wonder why magnesium matters in your diet? It's more important than you think. Learn more.	LEARN_MORE	https://searchlabz.com/understanding-the-importanc	Finally Media	https://www.facebook.com/100067978975745/	265	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	searchlabz.com	IMAGE	Understanding the importance of magnesium is becoming increasingly crucial in today's health-conscious society. Magnesium serves as a powerhouse mineral essential for over 300 enzymatic reactions, including energy production, muscle and nerve function, and blood sugar regulation. Despite its signifi...	https://searchlabz.com/understanding-the-importance-of-magnesium/?cid=ch15060+ch15068&adtext=Guide to Magnesium's Role in Your Diet �&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_medium={{ad.id}}&utm_source=fb&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&fb_pixel_id=1178421023860202&fpcv=Lead&lang=en_US&stid=3544685732	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481046411_995503292595216_1243146200624001833_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bu_vMcJJh-sQ7kNvgHRZTQm&_nc_oc=AdjuzZrj0xWTE0nxChBA0FllrE6aWQoKhjuiDA2DTGWOZ99QFBeqpsgEIwqdN7Lv6FmpHy-donrHUCqLq6HaNBke&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AwSovMrf1-5EH1WgfRrBDgS&oh=00_AYBKuO2LjEEqaZQ7bN__xxroYiqWEygd1eojr414ZAV1bQ&oe=67CB89A8	PERSON_PROFILE	Finally Media	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,747,109	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 09:21	active	2759	Guide to Magnesium for Better Health 🩺	Did you know magnesium plays a key role in your overall health? 🌱 Learn more.	LEARN_MORE	https://searchlabz.com/understanding-the-importanc	Finally Media	https://www.facebook.com/100067978975745/	265	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	searchlabz.com	IMAGE	Understanding the importance of magnesium is becoming increasingly crucial in today's health-conscious society. Magnesium serves as a powerhouse mineral essential for over 300 enzymatic reactions, including energy production, muscle and nerve function, and blood sugar regulation. Despite its signifi...	https://searchlabz.com/understanding-the-importance-of-magnesium/?cid=ch15060+ch15068&adtext=Guide to Magnesium for Better Health �&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_medium={{ad.id}}&utm_source=fb&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&fb_pixel_id=1178421023860202&fpcv=Lead&lang=en_US&stid=8006612099	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481446274_518027027992593_3662579268457331914_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=asu_J3i8ZjAQ7kNvgF5-rAo&_nc_oc=AdhsfCu5QUJk1b7X8mRMIqtZuPLGErsqWST3pKzpFtP0teJ-u0lsKVjeCib1U5ZTH33tLmp_3F4atEq3K-yv-GL6&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AwSovMrf1-5EH1WgfRrBDgS&oh=00_AYCA5luW8Yk-wTVkweR3Dk8Reurl6mvF9WiKIc89TmPvoQ&oe=67CB7F4C	PERSON_PROFILE	Finally Media	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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