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| 2681566 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/5/25, 4:48 PM | 1738828445 | 1749160137 | 2478 | totalmotioneducation.com | Learn More | CAROUSEL | https://www.totalmotioneducation.com/instanttraining/?utm_source=FB&utm_medium=%7B%7Badset.name%7D%7D&utm_campaign=%7B%7Bcampaign.name%7D%7D&utm_content=%7B%7Bad.name%7D%7D&utm_term=%7B%7Bad.id%7D%7D | 99550178243 | Total Motion Release | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476357520_1297098381435586_3713447851943171373_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=6hL_NozRu8MQ7kNvgH7gUUI&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYCnN1y_H78ckYK-Dke3fEg7jp1ZQDMFPbzoBSL-Ts7uEw&oe=67AA38DA | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Total Motion Release | 2013 | https://www.facebook.com/tmrseminars/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681479 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 4/26/25, 10:12 AM | 1738828443 | 1745680358 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | VIDEO | Read next chapter | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=157725&accid=7929461117168105&exdata=C53DCDAE4F2816FFF1B288ADADA5BAF28A76B45166887D80 | 3.7558525564194E+14 | Fun Novels | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475901482_1700382093850550_59758435660336329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=YHGCbNldpxsQ7kNvgH4GV7d&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYDa22J4oNpbEqm8FuAJRsDBFeRbEROw2IyVlBpJmYWsMQ&oe=67AA324C | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | After two crazy years, she decided to let go and return him to his first love. But he refused to let her go. "Don't leave me. Tomorrow's engagement is with you!" ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi**ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his b*dmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my b*d, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red m*rk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my b*d too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You b**ch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame gr*aning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? 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| 2681529 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/5/25, 10:50 PM | 1738828444 | 1749181832 | 2478 | lc.newtrandinghit.com | Learn more | VIDEO | Tap to learn more | https://lc.newtrandinghit.com/6787f5d29cab447e739a7af4?sub1={{ad.id}}&sub2={{adset.id}}&sub3={{campaign.id}}&sub4={{ad.name}}&sub5={{adset.name}}&sub6={{campaign.name}}&sub7={{placement}}&sub8={{site_source_name}}&utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=paid | 5.3701560616203E+14 | Jane Believeau | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476350346_491797880332702_6239392749765108935_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Y_2WStC8ZMQQ7kNvgFcGQNj&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=AI2MUU60gqCj3U6bB0wLlfp&oh=00_AYC4KGTOMbmb27BglXlUazUK9U682bLmm97B10FOF5NwXQ&oe=67AA4211 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Why do some people hit 50 without discomfort while others struggle with Neuropathy problems? | Jane Believeau | 23 | https://www.facebook.com/61571844741933/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681507 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/6/25, 3:18 AM | 1738828444 | 1749197917 | 2478 | go.hfcwellness.com | Learn More | DCO | $97 New Patient Exam Special! | Limited Spots! | https://go.hfcwellness.com/97-new-patient-special-offer | 1.0435438298556E+14 | Health First Chiropractic & Wellness | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476298544_3207411696077469_1822420993889317595_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=W0PKW6Fkea8Q7kNvgHGtfCx&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=AI2MUU60gqCj3U6bB0wLlfp&oh=00_AYCmUHoLIYuQue7E8-qaKjrMG-jwLnNJafvWtXgnECwCYw&oe=67AA366A | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Looking For A Chiropractor? Voted BEST Chiropractor In Richmond For 2024 Due to our commitment to improving your quality of life. We use state-of-the-art computerized neurological scanning, digital imaging and tailored care programs. Our mission to help you live your best life ever, through energetic and inspired living, From newborns to seniors, there is no guesswork, With our advanced exam and adjustment techniques. Our Wellness online membership, Of recipes, nutrition and exercise Is included with every new patient. Live your BEST life ever, with Health First Chiropractic & Wellness, Check out our new, beautiful practice. Book your new patient initial exam for ONLY $97, And I'll give you a memory foam pillow. LEARN MORE HERE CLICK FOR YOUR $97 EXAM | Health First Chiropractic & Wellness | 1502 | https://www.facebook.com/hfcwellness/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| 2681476 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/6/25, 1:47 PM | 1738828443 | 1749235642 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | VIDEO | Read next chapter | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=157725&accid=7929461117168105&exdata=C53DCDAE4F2816FF1D6AE58E74D061E641F160E12227B9E4 | 3.7558525564194E+14 | Fun Novels | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476161410_3976105839308208_3312642926977707964_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=1XHgWwMjXPIQ7kNvgFffN0o&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYAVXRl3wV-RfTnYkOyznPtwaaOHKbUwqsftIzAB9pKG2w&oe=67AA4D01 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | After two crazy years, she decided to let go and return him to his first love. But he refused to let her go. "Don't leave me. Tomorrow's engagement is with you!" ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi**ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his b*dmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my b*d, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red m*rk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my b*d too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You b**ch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame gr*aning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? 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| 2681514 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/7/25, 2:20 AM | 1738828444 | 1749280822 | 2478 | website.metronovel.com | Learn more | VIDEO | 😎Click here to Read on More Spicy Chapters👉 | https://website.metronovel.com/share/middle_new/lv2jyrpkmxi3aioozhlfmsnj?campaign_id={{campaign.id}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&campaign={{campaign.name}}&adgroup={{adset.name}} | 4.0179891634313E+14 | Read Web Stories | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476437596_4055341948035209_2833400124660925815_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=SKriScJsJskQ7kNvgFd1qnq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=AI2MUU60gqCj3U6bB0wLlfp&oh=00_AYCi-5IfQAH03OFou7AD2jwYldZBQqNtjbUKQbdnn8pqFg&oe=67AA3103 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | At dawn, Odalys Stone cracked open her eyes, the sunlight pouring through the window making her squint. For a moment, she stared blankly, her mind groggy, before her gaze fell on the crooked calendar on the wall. A bitter smile tugged at her lips. She was back. Back to this godforsaken day—the day her life had been ripped apart. The day she was sold into a marriage from hell, betrayed by the very people she had called family, and ultimately killed. Hatred boiled in her veins, rising like a tide that threatened to drown her. But just as quickly, she forced it down, letting icy calm take its place. Her past life had already wrung every last drop of emotion out of her. Not this time. This time, she wasn't that naive, helpless girl. She was alive. And she was here to make them pay, every single one of them. The sound of heavy footsteps snapped her out of her thoughts. A sharp knock rattled the door, followed by louder, more impatient banging. Before Odalys could even move, the door burst open with a deafening crash. A tall figure stormed in, grabbing her arm roughly and yanking her up. "Odalys Stone, are you fucking deaf?" Henry Bennett barked, his grip bruising, his expression one of pure rage. Her face turned glacial, her lips curling into a sneer. Without hesitation, she twisted his wrist sharply and shoved him away with enough force to make him stumble. As he regained his balance, blinking in stunned disbelief, Odalys calmly reached for her phone, pressing the record button without missing a beat. Henry gawked at her, his jaw slack. This wasn't the meek, obedient sister he knew—the one who flinched at his every word. She wasn't cowering or apologizing. She had fought back. "What the hell's gotten into you?" he spat, pointing an accusatory finger at her. "Do you think this is some kind of joke? The Stewarts are coming today, and you're still lying in bed? Do you want them to take Sophia instead? Is that it?" Odalys's gaze hardened, her voice cutting through his tirade like a knife. "Why, Henry? Isn't she the one engaged to him? Or is it because their son is dying that you want me to take her place? You're scared she'll end up a widow, but me? I'm just expendable, right?" His mouth opened and closed, his face turning an ugly shade of red. "Sophia is different," he muttered, his eyes darting away. "If people find out she's been married before, her life will be ruined." A bitter laugh escaped her lips, sharp and cold. "Oh, I see. Her reputation is sacred, but mine? That's disposable? How fucking convenient." Henry's fists clenched at his sides, his face twisting with anger. Before he could lash out, a frail figure appeared at the doorway. "Henry, stop," Sophia Bennett said, her voice trembling as tears streamed down her pale cheeks. She looked heartbreakingly pitiful, her wide eyes shimmering with sorrow. "I'll do it. I'll marry him, okay? If he dies, then... then I'll..." Her voice broke into sobs, her frail body shaking as though she might collapse. "Enough!" Hannah Bennett's voice sliced through the room like a whip. Odalys turned her gaze to her mother, who stood at the doorway flanked by her two brothers, Caspian and Atlas Bennett. Their faces were etched with fury, their contempt for her palpable. "Odalys," Caspian snapped, his fists tightening, "how can you be so heartless? Sophia is your sister. Are you really going to let her face this alone?" Atlas crossed his arms, his tone dripping with disgust. "We're not asking you to die. Just marry him for a while. Once he's gone, you'll come back safe and sound. What's the big deal?" Their audacity was almost laughable. Before her time travel, this might have broken her. She might have screamed, begged them to see reason, only to be crushed under their blackmail and cruelty. She had been drugged, stripped of her dignity, and forced into that cursed marriage. And when it became too much, she had ended it all in despair. But not this time. "Fine," she said coolly, her tone so steady it was almost unnerving. "I never said I wouldn't marry him." Taking a deep breath, Odalys straightened her shoulders, her lips curling into a calm, almost serene smile. Without a word, she walked to her desk, picking up a pen and paper. Her phone, still recording, caught every calculated move. The room fell silent. They exchanged confused glances, trying to figure out what game she was playing. A moment later, she turned back to them, holding out a document she'd just written. "Here's the deal—you're all signing this agreement to sever any and all family ties with me. I want it airtight, legally binding, and notarized. No bullshit, no loopholes. Once that's done, I'll marry the guy. Simple as that." Their stunned silence quickly turned to outrage. Atlas grabbed the document with a sneer, his voice dripping with mockery. "You? Cut ties with us? Who the hell do you think you are? Spit it out—how much do you want?" Henry didn't even hesitate. He pulled a sleek black card from his wallet and tossed it onto the table with a cold, detached expression. "Thirty thousand dollars. Take it and get out. Stop playing the victim—it's just a goddamn wedding. You're acting like we're sending you to the gallows." Sophia's eyes flickered with a momentary spark of relief when she saw the agreement, but she quickly smothered it with crocodile tears. "No, no, don't do this, sister!" Her voice cracked as she shook her head, her tone full of exaggerated despair. "I'll go. I'll marry him if that's what it takes. Please, don't fight with Mom and the boys because of me. It's my fault—I should've left the house the moment you came back if I'd known you felt this way." She spun around dramatically, her frail frame trembling with grief, and collapsed conveniently into Henry's arms. "Sophia," Henry murmured, holding her close like she was made of porcelain. He shot Odalys a glare filled with venom. "Is this what you wanted? To tear this family apart?" Odalys met his fury with icy detachment. "I'm not tearing anything apart. Just sign the damn agreement, get it notarized, and I'll go play your sacrificial lamb." Their angry, incredulous faces only fueled her inner amusement. 'Why did I waste so many years trying to please these people? Why did I beg for affection from people who wouldn't piss on me if I were on fire?' Once, she'd been their discarded daughter, tossed aside like trash while they paraded around their "replacement" — a shiny new girl they'd adopted to fill her spot. Meanwhile, Odalys had been left to fend for herself in the streets, barely surviving. If not for her mentor, she'd have been dead long ago. And yet, despite all that, she'd come back, hoping to earn their love, only to be betrayed in the cruelest way imaginable. But this time? This time, she wasn't here to beg. "You'll regret this!" Hannah's shrill voice snapped through the tension like a whip. She turned to the nearest servant and barked, "Get the lawyer. Now!" Her desperation was almost laughable—she wasn't worried about principle, only about Odalys backing out. The brothers exchanged uneasy glances but stayed silent, too afraid to challenge their mother. "Uh... yes, ma'am," the servant stammered before scurrying off. Henry stood frozen, his jaw clenched as he processed what was happening. "Mom, you're not seriously doing this, are you?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. But before he could get an answer, Sophia's soft sobs stole the spotlight. "Mom, let's not take it this far," Caspian chimed in, playing the concerned brother. "She's still family." Hannah's lips curled into a sneer, her eyes flashing with pure disdain. "This ungrateful brat thinks she can just walk away? Fine. Let her try. Without the Bennett name, let's see how far she gets in this world." The lawyer arrived moments later, looking thoroughly confused but professional as ever. Hannah shoved the document at him without hesitation, watching as it was officially notarized. Odalys took the signed agreement, her face calm and unreadable. She snapped a photo of it with her phone before slipping the papers into her bag. Without a word, she turned and walked toward the door, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. "Move," she said coolly, her voice like a blade. "You're in my way." Hannah stood frozen, her fury simmering beneath the surface. Finally, she grabbed her phone and hurled it toward Odalys's retreating figure. "You selfish little bitch! Are you trying to kill me?!" But Odalys didn't even flinch. Her voice floated up the staircase, steady and sharp. "Are those the wedding gifts from the Stewart family?" "Yes, ma'am," a servant replied hesitantly. Everyone froze, their confusion quickly morphing into curiosity as they followed her downstairs. There, Odalys stood in the entryway, surveying the piles of lavish gifts stacked neatly by the door. She pulled out her ID and handed it to the nearest servant. "Go to the bank. Open a safety deposit box and store everything there." The servant blinked, visibly stunned. "Pardon me, ma'am?" Odalys arched a brow, her lips curving into a smirk. "What's the problem? Aren't these gifts for me?" "Y-yes, ma'am," he stammered, nodding quickly. At her command, a team of guards began loading the extravagant gifts back into the trucks. The grand Bennett estate erupted into chaos as workers scrambled to carry out her orders. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Hannah screamed, her voice hoarse with rage. Chapter 2 Wedding Gifts The Stewart family—everyone knew their name. They were the pinnacle of power, dripping in wealth, and way out of anyone else's league. The wedding gifts they sent weren't just generous—they were mind-blowing. Even without counting, it was obvious they were worth billions. For a family like the Bennetts? Getting tied to the Stewarts was nothing short of a miracle. They weren't even in the same universe. But fate had handed them a golden ticket. William Bennett and Evander Stewart had once fought together, shoulder to shoulder, in life-or-death battles. Somewhere along the way, they'd sealed a promise: a marriage pact between their future children. Initially, the Bennetts planned to marry off Sophia. It was a straightforward enough plan until bad news hit. The man she was supposed to marry was at death's door, and the whispers said he didn't have much time left. No way were they going to send Sophia into a marriage that'd turn her into a widow before it even began. Luckily—or unluckily, seven months ago, the Bennetts had found their long-lost biological daughter, Odalys Stone. And just like that, they had a perfect solution: send Odalys instead. She'd secure the Bennetts' connection to the Stewarts, widow or not. Sophia would be off the hook, and the family would still come out on top. It was a win-win—at least for everyone except Odalys. "What am I doing here?" Odalys said, her voice calm but laced with a sharp edge as she glanced around. She raised an eyebrow, her smirk growing. "Well, obviously, I'm here to collect what's mine." She didn't bother hiding the amusement in her eyes. Watching the Bennetts fume while the Stewart family bodyguards loomed nearby was too satisfying. "What's wrong? Were you planning to keep it all for yourselves?" Her voice turned mockingly curious, her tone dripping with fake innocence. "Oh, wait—I get it. You're trying to screw me over because you think I'm just the backup bride, right?" Her words hit like a grenade. The bodyguards immediately paused their work, sharp eyes locking onto the Bennetts with unspoken suspicion. Hannah's face went pale, her heavily made-up features twisting in barely contained rage. She spat through gritted teeth, "If the Stewarts gave it to you, then fine. Take it. It's yours." "Damn right, it's mine." Odalys tilted her head, smirk still firmly in place. "Let's go, guys. Load it all up." The bodyguards didn't need to be told twice. They began reloading the boxes of gifts onto the waiting trucks. One of them rattled off the inventory under his breath. "Three boxes with three million dollars each. Two boxes of gold and diamond jewelry, 200 pieces total. One small box containing six property deeds for Crystal Cove villas. One small box with keys to 11 luxury cars." Sophia's fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging so hard into her palms that she almost drew blood. Those gifts were supposed to be hers. Sure, she didn't want to marry into the Stewarts, but she'd never said she didn't want the spoils. And now, she thought Odalys was walking out with everything. Every last thing. Her chest tightened with rage, her breaths coming quick and sharp. 'Why? Why does she get to take what should be mine?' "Odalys Stone, don't you have any shame?" Hannah snapped, stepping forward with a trembling hand pointing at her. Her voice cracked with the effort to keep her anger in check. "Aren't you afraid people will laugh at you? Taking all this—it's disgusting." "Laugh? At me?" Odalys turned, her expression cool, her voice calm and mocking. "For what? Taking what my husband gave me? No, Mrs. Bennett, people aren't going to laugh. They're gonna be jealous as hell." Her lips curled into a cold smile, her eyes glinting with something dangerous. "Or is it you who's jealous?" Her gaze swept across the room, pausing on each familiar face. To her surprise, she didn't feel the anger she thought she would. The Bennetts didn't deserve her rage. What she felt instead was an eerie calm. She'd been here before, in another timeline. This time, she wasn't here to please anyone. This time, she was here to cut ties, burn bridges, and take what was hers. "These gifts belong to me because the Stewarts are marrying me. You got a problem with that?" Her voice was soft but carried an unmistakable edge. Each word hit like a slap. Her eyes scanned the room, finally settling on Sophia. Slowly, deliberately, she stepped forward. Sophia froze, her eyes darting nervously to the side as she stumbled back a step. Her gaze flickered to the boxes of gifts, jealousy and frustration swirling in her tear-filled eyes. She'd never wanted this to happen. Sure, she'd agreed to let Odalys take her place in the marriage, but she hadn't agreed to give her everything. And now, Odalys was walking away with it all. The thought made her stomach churn with rage and humiliation. "Odalys, how could you do this?" Sophia's voice wavered, trembling with fake sweetness as she bit her lip, tears streaming down her face. "You're upsetting Mom. If you take everything, what will the Stewarts think of our family?" Odalys Stone chuckled coldly, her hand gripping Sophia Bennett's chin with just enough force to make the other woman flinch. Leaning in, she lowered her voice, her tone dripping with venom. "And just who the hell do you think you are? A nobody foster kid, and you've got the balls to come at me?" Her lips twisted into a smirk, her gaze sharp and mocking. "What the Stewarts think of you? That's your problem, not mine." She added with a scoff, "Jealous, huh? Pathetic little bitch." Sophia froze, her eyes wide with disbelief. The insult landed like a slap, and for a moment, she couldn't even process it. She wanted to lash out, but with the Stewarts' people watching, she bit her tongue. All she could do was stomp her foot in frustration, her chest heaving as she struggled to keep her composure. "Odalys Stone, what the fuck is your problem?" Atlas barked as he stormed forward, his expression dark. He pulled Sophia behind him protectively, glaring at Odalys like he wanted to snap her in half. Odalys raised a brow, her smirk deepening. Without a word, she turned on her heel and strode toward the door. When she reached it, she pulled a key from her pocket and flung it onto the floor. The sharp clink echoed through the room. Pausing in the doorway, she tossed a cold glance over her shoulder, her voice dripping with mockery. "And what are you gonna do about it? Or better yet, maybe she should be the one marrying instead?" The room fell into stunned silence as she walked out, her ponytail swishing in time with her confident strides. The Bennetts could only stand there, fuming, as the Stewarts' bodyguards continued hauling out the extravagant betrothal gifts without a care in the world. Hannah staggered, her face pale as she watched millions—billions—of dollars in gifts disappear. Her instincts screamed at her to do something, to stop them, but before she could act, Sophia grabbed her wrist in a panic. "Mom, don't! She's just trying to piss you off!" Sophia's voice cracked, panic lacing her words. "Once she calms down, she'll bring everything back. She's just throwing a tantrum—nothing more." But even as she said it, doubt flickered in Sophia's eyes. The truth was, everyone in Crownridge knew the situation with the Stewarts. Their patriarch was already at death's door, with the hospital issuing what was essentially a countdown to his final moments. Years ago, the Stewarts and Bennetts had been close, and the marriage was supposed to strengthen their bond. But now the Stewarts were rushing the wedding to bring some semblance of good fortune to a dying man. There wouldn't even be a ceremony. They'd sent the wedding gifts today with plans to take the bride immediately. The Bennetts, unwilling to let Sophia marry into such a grim situation, had shoved Odalys into the role instead. After all, she'd only recently been found after years of being lost and had no real connection to the family. The plan was simple: send her off, let her deal with the mess, and once the Stewart patriarch passed, bring her back. It was, in their minds, the perfect solution. Henry snorted, his tone filled with contempt. "She really thinks she can pull this shit? That's what happens when you let someone think they're equal to us. Time to remind her where she stands." Caspian leaned lazily against the wall, his lips quirking into a cruel smile. "Relax. Let her have her little moment. Once the bridegroom kicks the bucket, we'll drag her back here and teach her a lesson she won't forget. Let's see if she still thinks she's hot shit after that." But as they watched Odalys climb into the waiting car without so much as a glance back, a cold wind swept through the courtyard, sending a shiver down everyone's spine. The atmosphere shifted, the air growing heavy and unnervingly still. For the first time, an inexplicable unease settled over the Bennetts. In the backseat of the car, Odalys sat quietly, her gaze fixed on the rearview mirror. The Bennett mansion shrank in the distance, shrouded in swirling clouds that seemed to darken the skies around it. The house looked cursed, like it was being swallowed whole by its own greed and malice. A soft, bitter laugh escaped her lips as she leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes. Her mind was flooded with memories from her past life—memories that stung like open wounds. She could still feel the humiliation, the betrayal. The people she had once trusted—her own family—had stripped her bare, literally and figuratively. They'd recorded her, used the footage to blackmail her, and forced her to take Sophia's place. All for their own selfish gain, all to secure their position with the Stewarts. Chapter 3 You're Dying After her death, Odalys's soul drifted aimlessly, trapped in a limbo that felt endless. She couldn't move on, couldn't reincarnate—until an unknown, powerful force yanked her back into the living world, slamming her into a reality she wasn't sure she wanted. The memory made her fists clench tightly, her nails biting into her palms as her jaw set with cold determination. The sleek black car rolled to a stop in front of a sprawling courtyard mansion, its grandeur weighed down by an eerie stillness. The house seemed more like a relic than a home, its walls steeped in secrets and shadows. "Madam, Mr. Stewart is waiting for you upstairs," the butler, Dorian Huxley, said as he stepped aside, gesturing politely for her to follow. His tone was calm and measured, but it carried a quiet urgency. Odalys didn't respond. She stepped out of the car and into the courtyard, the oppressive silence pressing down on her like a physical weight. As she crossed the threshold, her gaze swept over the carefully arranged antiques in the living room—each piece meticulous, imposing, and completely lifeless. Her heels clicked against the polished wood floor as she climbed the stairs, each step reverberating in the stillness. At the top, she paused. A tall figure stood inside the room, his back to her, framed by sunlight filtering through the window. The light scattered across his broad shoulders, softening the harsh lines of his frame. She couldn't see his face, but his presence was unmistakable—commanding, unyielding, and suffocating. "You're Percival Stewart?" she asked, her voice steady, but low and cautious. The man turned slowly, deliberately. His eyes met hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to freeze. Those eyes were cold, bottomless, and completely detached, like looking into a frozen void. He held her gaze for a beat longer than necessary before shifting his eyes away, the indifference in his expression sharp enough to cut. The silence stretched between them, heavy and tense, before he finally spoke. "This marriage? It's just my grandfather's dying wish," he said, his voice deep and rough, every word laced with disdain. "Don't waste your time thinking it means anything. There won't be a ceremony, no legal documents, nothing. Once I'm gone, you're free to leave." The bluntness of his words caught her off guard, but she didn't flinch. She just stared at him, taking in the man who had been a shadow in the past. In truth, she knew next to nothing about Percival Stewart. Before her time travel, she had died before the marriage ever happened. All she'd heard was that he was twenty-eight, the head of the Stewart family, and dying from some incurable illness. Beyond that, he was a mystery—a figure hidden behind the impenetrable walls of the Stewart dynasty. He was like an invisible king, ruling from the shadows, unchallenged but utterly alone. Before she could respond, a harsh, violent cough broke the silence. Percival's tall frame trembled slightly, and the sharp, metallic tang of blood filled the air, cutting through the faint scent of scented candle burning in the corner. "Mrs. Stewart, perhaps it's best if you retire to your room," Dorian said, stepping forward quickly. His voice was polite, but the urgency in his movements was impossible to miss. Odalys didn't move. Her sharp gaze stayed locked on Percival, ignoring the butler entirely. She took a step forward, her eyes narrowing as the scent of blood grew stronger. It wasn't just a hint—it was thick, suffocating, and impossible to ignore. Percival felt her approach and shot her a warning glare, his expression hardening. "Go back to your room," he said, his voice rough and authoritative. He turned abruptly, his steps hurried and uneven as if trying to escape her scrutiny. But just as he moved past her, Odalys reached out and grabbed his arm. He froze instantly, his body tensing under her touch. He made a move to pull away, but she was faster. Twisting her grip, she held him in place, then reached up and grabbed his collar without hesitation. The sound of fabric tearing cut through the room like a slap. Percival's shirt split open, revealing a chest sculpted like stone, his bronze skin catching the fractured sunlight pouring in from the window. The room fell silent. Even the air seemed to hold its breath. Dorian stood frozen, his jaw slack with shock, his gaze darting between his mentor and the woman who had just ripped his shirt like it was nothing. No one saw it coming. Odalys, without hesitation, tore open Percival's shirt with a single, fluid motion. No one had ever dared to get this close to him before—let alone touch him. The speed and boldness of her actions left everyone in the room frozen, mouths agape. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Percival growled, his hand shooting up to clamp around her wrist with an iron grip. Her wrist was locked in his grasp, but Odalys didn't so much as flinch. Her eyes stayed locked on his chest, unblinking, studying his skin with laser focus. Beneath the smooth surface, something was moving—twitching, writhing, almost alive. It looked ready to tear through at any second. His veins bulged unnaturally, pushing against his flesh as though ready to explode. The air grew thick, the metallic tang of blood sharp enough to taste. Percival's body was a battleground, wracked with excruciating pain. It felt like shards of glass were tearing through him, breaking him apart piece by piece. His skin stretched taut, veins pulsating beneath it as if threatening to burst, and every nerve in his body screamed for relief. "Shit," he hissed through gritted teeth, sweat dripping down his temples. His face had gone pale, his jaw tight as he tried to suppress the pain. With great effort, he turned his icy glare on Dorian, who was frozen in the doorway, and the bodyguards lingering nearby, too stunned to move. "Take her back to her room," he ordered, his voice rough but unwavering despite the agony gripping him. "Yes, sir!" Dorian stammered, snapping into action and rushing toward Odalys, his face pale with fear. But before Dorian could reach her, Odalys made her move. She ignored the butler completely, her free hand lifting to press lightly against Percival's chest. The touch was almost playful, her fingertips tracing slow, deliberate patterns on his skin. Then, without warning, she shoved—hard. Percival froze, his entire body locking up. The moment her hand made contact, it sent a shockwave through him, like a current of electricity surging through his veins. The chaos beneath his skin—veins ready to rupture, blood cells fighting a violent war—suddenly stilled. The energy that had been raging inside him recoiled, like a storm abruptly silenced. His blood, moments away from tearing through his flesh, began to reverse its course. Thickened, frozen, and pushed back as though retreating from an unseen force. His heart seized painfully in his chest. "Ugh!" The sound ripped from his throat as dark blood spewed from his lips, splattering onto the floor. The black, foul-smelling liquid dripped from the corner of his mouth, its acrid stench filling the room. He staggered back a step, his pupils blown wide, his body trembling like it was ready to break apart. And then, suddenly, everything stopped. The agony gripping him moments ago faded to a dull ache. The sharp, relentless pressure vanished. His breathing steadied, his chest no longer heaving in pain. Slowly, cautiously, he glanced down at his body, expecting to see the usual horrors: split skin, torn veins, blood pouring from open wounds. But his skin was intact. No ruptures. No shredded flesh. No rivers of blood pooling at his feet. Aside from the dark blood he'd coughed up, he was fine. Whole. The pain, the chaos, the destruction that had always followed these episodes—it was gone. Percival's eyes snapped back to Odalys, shock flickering across his normally stoic face. She stepped back, her hand falling away as she regarded him with a calm, almost clinical detachment. Her gaze swept over him like she was piecing together a puzzle. "So the rumors are true," she said, her tone flat and disinterested. "You really are knocking on death's door." As she spoke, she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and began wiping her fingers clean. "But since you already made it clear this marriage is just your grandfather's idea to 'ward off bad luck,' and you don't actually want to marry me, that works out perfectly. I wasn't planning on getting married anyway." She tilted her head slightly, her eyes sharp and calculating as they locked onto his. "Let me guess. Your doctors told you you've got less than a month to live, didn't they?" His lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn't deny it. Odalys smirked faintly, the corner of her mouth curving upward in a way that was both confident and infuriating. "So, here's the deal. I'll keep you alive for the next month. In return, you let me walk away when it's over. No strings attached." Percival's eyes narrowed, suspicion mingling with disbelief. "You're saying you can keep me alive for a month?" "That's exactly what I'm saying," she replied, her tone as steady as her gaze. She stepped closer, reaching out again. This time, her fingers brushed against the corner of his mouth, wiping away the blood that still lingered there. She brought her fingers to her nose, sniffing lightly before speaking again. "You're not dying as fast as they think. You're poisoned—badly—but it's not terminal yet. I can stabilize you. Give you some time." With that, she wiped her fingers clean on the handkerchief and tossed it into a nearby trash can, her movements smooth and deliberate. She met his gaze again, her expression unreadable but unshakable. "Clock's ticking, Stewart. Your move." ---------------------- There are limited chapters to put here, click “learn more” to open App to continue reading (It will automatically jump to the book) | Read Web Stories | 76 | https://www.facebook.com/61563228761758/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| 2681464 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/11/25, 4:08 AM | 1738828443 | 1749632933 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | VIDEO | Read next chapter | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=898E73583E5F9879F95AAE9D4483D7717A4A6FDF07ACA95A | 1.116928118368E+14 | Heat Novel A | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475981156_528931046976512_6046492063228361462_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=myM5HlPXrAoQ7kNvgFOyeAj&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYDZosw-8jrER2OKrrb69-W5ovGQIMLYWVkFoowVcVqN_g&oe=67AA41DC | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi**ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his b*dmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my b*d, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red m*rk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my b*d too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You b**ch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame gr*aning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& | Heat Novel A | 596 | https://www.facebook.com/100089743291944/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681539 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/3/25, 12:15 PM | 1738828444 | 1748970922 | 2478 | facebook.com | Like Page | IMAGE | Wisteria Health | https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61571949826935 | 4.760536222678E+14 | Wisteria Health | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476384561_3572521819706890_1646478942200676435_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5GDVHIGsLG8Q7kNvgHeJohi&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYCN1oEcpG5Wg945LGiyJq9VvRv9-RhXHtBEuTTIPrXOfA&oe=67AA4CDB | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Welcome to Wisteria! Wisteria Health encompasses both diagnostic and treatment services focused on patient-centered care. Wisteria Imaging Institute employs top board certified and fellowship trained radiologist to ensure quality care for all patients! At Wisteria Pain and Spine, our mission is to provide compassionate, patient-centered care through minimally invasive treatments for pain. We aim to relieve pain, restore function and improve the quality of life through listening empathetically to and collaborating with our patients to develop customized treatment plans that promote healing, well-being and long-term recovery for each and every patient. | Wisteria Health | 41 | https://www.facebook.com/61571949826935/ | 0 | LIKE_PAGE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| 2681484 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/8/25, 1:06 AM | 1738828443 | 1749362765 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | IMAGE | His Scorned Bride Turned Out To Be Legendary | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67179322-fb_contact-enj83_6-0110-c3-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=060236&accid=985743679749990&exdata=D6FAA275DE3CB432A2421FEF8C7FA60DB6C3B7309E7FBACE | 4.3210510665256E+14 | Fragrant Fiction | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475074462_2029724554205624_7916621647688940449_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=77jsRxD4w3cQ7kNvgEIAQbW&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYBZPu5xsiG_7YMCWwmbtlgFtp1KiksI3AS7qlovSHk9cA&oe=67AA23AA | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Rumors claimed she was an uneducated, hot-tempered bumpkin. She sneered and revealed her true identity as a renowned designer, gaming pro, celebrated artist, and business tycoon, leaving everyone stunned! ===== "We're here to escort you home, Miss Morgan." "Your parents have been tirelessly searching for you over the years. Upon discovering your whereabouts, they promptly dispatched us to ensure your return." Fernanda Morgan surveyed the men in crisply tailored suits who stood before her, he appeared to be a butler. "Moreover, the Harper family is keenly anticipating your return. You are to be engaged to Mr. Harper once you return!" "Alright then. Let's go," Fernanda agreed with a slight nod. She collected her already-packed belongings and stepped into the vehicle. The journey from the small town of Zhota to Esaham was a long one, spanning at least two days by car. As dusk enveloped the sky, they pulled into another small town. The butler located a modestly appealing motel and proposed they stay overnight. Fernanda's accommodation was at the far end of the second-floor hallway, Room 201--arguably the best room available. The butler and the rest of their group opted to stay on the lower floor. The night was unusually warm and dry, rendering the room's aging air conditioner useless. Fernanda opened the window to invite a cool breeze, causing the curtains to dance gently in the evening air. Fresh from her shower, she dimmed the lights and crawled into bed for the night. Drifting into a light sleep, she was jolted awake by a disturbance outside. A subsequent noise at the window snapped her to full alert. As she bolted upright, a shadowy figure burst through, launching itself onto her bed. The freezing touch of a bl*de hovered at her neck as a low, threatening voice growled, "Don't you dare move." Immobile, Fernanda's body clenched in fear. The faint, iron tang of bl**d lingered on the man's sleeve--a grim reminder of his dangerousness. This unmistakable hint solidified the fact: this man was no one to mess with. Outside, the commotion intensified. Shortly after, a forceful knock resonated at the door. A coarse voice demanded, "Is anyone there? Open up now!" As the voice still echoed, the kn*fe at Fernanda's neck dug in slightly deeper. The man's voice dripped with malice as he warned, "Get rid of them, or you're as good as dead." His right arm ensnared her waist, his left hand unwavering with the kn*fe at her throat. Through his firm grip and calculated movements, Fernanda realized he was deadly serious. Cornered, she knew she had to play along for the time being. "Sure." With a soft, steady voice, Fernanda reassured him. "It'll all be okay." With no answer from inside, the outsiders used a master key to unlock the door and stormed in. At the sound, the man jerked Fernanda's baggy T-shirt, pulling her down onto his lap and encircling her with his arm, forcing her to straddle him as he shifted position. Right then, the door flung open, and a stark beam of flashlight flooded the room. Fernanda let out a panicked scream, quickly bending over the man to obscure him from view. "Sweetheart, what the hell is this place? How could anyone have the audacity to barge in like that?" Acting as though she was terrified, Fernanda held onto the man, her grip firm and desperate. Her voice, usually sweet and enticing, now carried an edge of annoyance mingled with a breathless charm that was utterly captivating. Suddenly, Fernanda felt the man beneath her tense up. Seconds later, he encircled her with his arm and expertly flipped over, drawing the blanket over both their bodies. As the blanket slid, its soft whispers merged with the steady rhythm of their breaths, painting a scene of understated sensuality. Faces flushed with embarrassment, the group at the door stood stiffly, unprepared for the private display before them. Nonetheless, the couple inside the room showed no signs of halting their intimate exchange. The motel's security guard chuckled uncomfortably, "Looks like they're pretty busy... Maybe we ought to leave, huh?" One of the men brushed past the guard and entered the room with a purposeful stride. Fernanda's heartbeat skyrocketed as she heard the footsteps drawing near. Could they actually be contemplating unveiling them? A chilling bl*de pressed against her side, its pointed tip grazing her skin, sending a shiver through her already tense body. The footsteps halted next to the bed, and with a surge of courage, Fernanda leaned in closer to the man beneath her. Pulled back gently, the blanket gave way to the flashlight's piercing light, exposing a glimpse of her delicate, b*re back. In the softness of the bed, their movements continued unabated. Fernanda's lips met his in a fervent kiss, her hair cascading down to obscure his face, while his hand gently caressed her side. The subdued m**ns that slipped from their lips lent the scene an air of genuine intimacy. Abruptly, a voice erupted from beyond the room, piercing the tranquility. "Boss! Something's going down out on the street!" Instantly, the man at the bedside sprang to his feet and vanished through the door. With the door slamming behind him, Fernanda disentangled herself and slipped from the bed. Moonlight seeped through a crack in the curtains, casting delicate shadows across the room. The man watched as Fernanda's slender figure was silhouetted against the pale light. Memories of earlier washed over him; his fingers traced her skin, so smooth and velvety. She had gripped his arms, her delicate skin pressing softly against his. Her hair had brushed his face, each strand silky, carrying a subtle fragrance. Her voice had been a soft melody, soothing to his ears. This woman was serene and astute. Amid the intrusion, rather than succumb to panic, she had pressed her lips to his, a kiss so convincing it had deceived the pursuers. Her technique was rather clumsy, only pressing her lips against his without any other movement--evidently her first kiss. Breaking the ensuing quiet, the man's voice softened from its usual sternness to a rasp tinged with all**re. "Was that your first kiss?" Chapter 2 That's Gross With deliberate movements, Fernanda pulled out a piece of clothing from her suitcase, her voice sharp and cool. "This is none of your concern. I think it's time for you to leave." All she desired at that moment was to hasten the man's departure. Barely a moment before, when he had embraced her, his fingers had brushed against her back, lingering just a moment too long. The calluses on his fingertips were coarse, betraying more wear than most. His adeptness with a knife and his swift reflexes hinted at a background that was far from ordinary. Cutting off the thought immediately, Fernanda dismissed any curiosity about his background. From below, the blare of a car horn shattered the silence. The man stood up smoothly. During their earlier intimacy, he had loosened his shirt, though his trousers remained crisply in place. He buttoned his shirt as he approached the window and casually tossed something to Fernanda. "My apologies for any discomfort caused earlier. Consider this your compensation," he said with a nod. With the graceful precision of a panther, he sprang out of the window. Fernanda approached the window, peering out into the night where, under the faint illumination of the streetlights, she observed him scale the wall effortlessly. He navigated the ledges until he merged with the shadows. She stooped to retrieve the object he had left--a sleek black card. The night's disruptions had been met with suitable compensation--a fair recompense. Fernanda pocketed the card and drew the curtains closed. The following morning, the butler approached Fernanda with a look of concern etched across his face. "Miss Morgan, I hope you managed to rest last night. There was an inspection for a burglary, which stirred quite the disturbance." She shrugged casually and muttered, "It was fine." As they drove, the butler stole glances at Fernanda through the rearview mirror. Reclined in her seat, she gazed out the window, her elegant profile cast in contemplative silence. He mused quietly to himself that she did not embody the typical country-raised youth. Her calm sophistication and graceful demeanor set her apart, enhancing her natural charm and making her an effortlessly endearing presence. After two days of travel, Fernanda stepped into the bustling streets of Esaham. The city was a teeming metropolis, alive with vibrant streets and a relentless stream of traffic. Shortly after 8 a.m., a stretch Lincoln limousine glided into the upscale estate of Dawn Villas, coming to a halt in front of a majestic three-story white villa. Stepping gracefully from the limousine, Fernanda let her eyes wander over the grandeur of the building before her. The villa, both opulent and imposing, was a testament to vast wealth. Her lips curled into a faint, almost mocking smile as she gave it a scrutinizing glance. This was her father Robert Morgan's residence. From humble beginnings, he had climbed to wealth and status with her late mother's support. After amassing his fortune, Robert had coldly cast aside her mother, choosing to revel in a relationship with his mistress. That woman--Michelle Morgan--had contributed nothing to his success, yet she now sat smugly in the seat Fernanda's mother had rightfully earned. She basked in the luxuries and respect that were never hers to claim. Worse still, Michelle had dared to flaunt her victory, parading her stolen life before Fernanda's grieving mother, a cruelty that had ultimately led to Fernanda's mother's untimely death. To the world, Michelle was seen as Robert's second wife, a symbol of grace and charm. Michelle even had the audacity to claim she was Fernanda's real mother. But Fernanda knew better. Behind the polished veneer lay the truth, raw and unforgiving. Fernanda's dark eyes momentarily hardened, a flicker of steely determination glinting within them. Her mother was no longer here to seek justice, but Fernanda vowed she would deliver it on her behalf. Just then, the villa's grand door swung open, revealing the pair responsible for the upheaval in her life. Robert stood tall and pristine, the sharp lines of his tailored suit accentuating his stature. His gold-rimmed glasses reflected the warm light, adding an air of calculated sophistication. At his side was Michelle, the very picture of elegance. Her fitted dress clung perfectly to her poised figure, exuding refinement and composure. "Fernanda, you've come back." Robert greeted warmly, a smile playing on his lips as he waved her over. "Come in." Fernanda's eyes darted downward, concealing the storm of emotions swirling within her. With a tentative step, she moved closer. Robert, with an arm encircling Michelle's waist, introduced her with a gesture. "Fernanda, this is your mother." With a casual wave toward the living room, he remarked, "And that's Erika, your sister." On the couch, Erika Morgan was engaged with the television, only looking up when Fernanda approached. Her eyes narrowed judgmentally at Fernanda's plain dress, her face contorting into a sneer. With an exaggerated eye-roll and a sarcastic tone, Erika muttered, "That country bumpkin? Dad, she's no sister of mine." Michelle approached Fernanda with a warm smile, linking her arm with Fernanda's. "Oh, Fernanda, Erika's just teasing. Pay her no mind. I've prepared breakfast for you. You must be starving. Let's have something to eat." Silently, Fernanda slipped her arm free and strode with determined steps into the dining room. Michelle paused, her smile faltering as a shadow of confusion crossed her face. She turned to Robert, her voice tinged with concern. "Robert, what's gotten into her?" He sighed, his voice a blend of empathy and resignation, "Fernanda was raised in the countryside. She's a bit unrefined, that's all. It's nothing against you, Michelle." Michelle nodded slowly, a soft smile reclaiming her features. "No worries," she murmured, her resolve firming. "I'll guide her as she settles in, teach her the essentials of elegance, and shape her into a poised young woman." Robert gave a supportive pat on her back, his expression one of appreciative assurance. In the dining room, Michelle seated herself next to Fernanda. "Fernanda, you must try this beef," she insisted, placing a tender slice onto Fernanda's plate. "It's Erika's favorite." Fernanda responded by promptly lifting the beef from her plate and dropping it into an empty plate with a clear look of disgust. "That's gross," she stated flatly, her voice void of any warmth. Chapter 3 How Could You Lie? The moment those words left Fernanda's lips, the entire table came to a standstill, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief. Erika, her patience fraying, brought her hand down hard on the table and demanded, "Country bumpkin, what are you even saying? My mom was kind enough to offer you this beef, and you have the nerve to be rude about it?" Fernanda met their astonished looks with a mask of feigned innocence. "I was clearly referring to the beef," she said with a deliberate pause. "It's raw and quite frankly, it looks unappetizing. What else could I possibly mean?" "You..." Erika's retort faltered, caught in her throat. Admitting that she thought Fernanda was insulting Michelle was out of the question. With a slow, calculated blink, Fernanda went on, "Unless, perhaps, you think there's something even more gross on this table than the raw beef?" At this, Erika's face registered sheer astonishment, and for a split second, her voice seemed to have deserted her entirely. Not a single word could she muster. It was Michelle who broke the awkward silence, interjecting smoothly, "Fernanda, the dish you're referring to is called beef tartare. It's a renowned delicacy made from top-notch beef and a pasteurized egg, typically found in high-end dining establishments. Perhaps it's something you've not had the opportunity to try before." Her voice subtly implied that Fernanda's simpler past might not have included such refined culinary experiences. Fernanda allowed a mischievous smirk to play at the corners of her lips and replied, "Our ancestors honed an array of sophisticated recipes and techniques. They certainly didn't refine these culinary arts for us to regress to consuming raw meat as if we were lost in the wild." Michelle's expression briefly betrayed a touch of discomfort, yet she managed to sustain a polite smile, nodding her agreement somewhat rigidly. "You bring up a valid point, I'll give you that." "I agree. I'm not fond of beef tartare either," Robert added with a nod, his gaze settling on Fernanda with evident pride. "I've always preferred classic tastes myself. It seems Fernanda has inherited that from me." Fernanda offered a subdued smile, delicately wiping her fork on a napkin after attempting the beef tartare, then resumed eating with a composed demeanor, seemingly unaffected by Erika's glaring resentment. Michelle suddenly ventured a soft query. "Fernanda, which university are you attending these days? Erika is at Luminary University, one of the top schools in the country. What about you?" At this, Erika's face morphed into a self-satisfied grin. Robert's tone grew cooler as he intervened on Fernanda's behalf. "I've spoken to a few contacts back in Fernanda's hometown. Currently, she isn't enrolled in any university." Michelle's eyes went wide, her voice cutting through the silence as she blurted, "What did you just say? Fernanda isn't attending any university? That simply cannot be! What will happen when the Harpers find out? Mrs. Harper had just mentioned a few days ago that they were planning a grand welcome party for Fernanda upon her return. If they learn she's not enrolled anywhere, it could be disastrous." Robert intervened, his tone laced with irritation, cutting through Michelle's rising panic. "Enough. I will take care of Fernanda's education myself." From the corner, Erika couldn't suppress a snicker. Imagining Fernanda managing to sneak into some low-ranked school through connections was downright amusing to her. The Harper family, celebrating the arrival of what Erika considered a rural nobody, was an absurd thought. Fernanda's crude and graceless demeanor would certainly earn their disapproval the moment they saw her. Erika found Bobby Harper quite charming, but his family's insistence on honoring their promise to engage him to Fernanda and pushing Robert to reintegrate Fernanda into their circles seemed ridiculously foolish to her. She was convinced that the Harper family would never develop an affinity for someone as lacking in education as Fernanda. The mood around the table grew tense as they discussed Fernanda's academic prospects. Amidst the awkward silence, Fernanda herself reached for a napkin, dabbing at her lips gracefully. "I have already registered to take the entrance exam for Esaham University," she announced, her voice steady and clear. "Assuming all goes well, I plan to attend there in the near future." Erika was caught off guard and, for a moment, was speechless before she burst into unrestrained laughter. The idea that Esaham University, the most prestigious in the nation where seats were as coveted as gold, would allow Fernanda to take the entrance exam was laughable. Clearly, this was a lie. Robert's demeanor hardened, his eyes narrowing with a frosty glare. He furrowed his brow in disapproval and said sternly, "Fernanda, how could you lie about being granted the opportunity to take the entrance exam for Esaham University? Was lying the only lesson you picked up in your little hometown?" "Honey, calm down," Michelle interjected quickly. "Fernanda was only trying to impress you." Turning to Fernanda with a soft, maternal expression, Michelle remarked in a soothing tone, "There's no shame in skipping college, Fernanda. You don't have to pretend or feel lesser because of it. We're family here, and we don't judge you on such matters." Her words, though gentle, were saturated with disbelief, assuming Fernanda was fabricating her story. Fernanda, without a word of defense, simply pulled out her smartphone. After a few taps, she pushed it across the table towards the center. Everyone leaned in to see the display. Erika's laughter stopped abruptly as she stared at the screen. Displayed prominently was Fernanda's Esaham University entrance exam admission ticket, complete with her photo and name in bold. Snatching the phone, Erika's eyes grew wide as she inspected it repeatedly. Her anger boiling over, she tossed it away and exclaimed, "This can't be real! You edited this, didn't you?" Chapter 4 This Girl Is Something Else "This isn't a photo--it's an online document," Fernanda stated in an even tone, her voice steady and clear. "Notice the Esaham University web address at the top?" Erika was at a loss for words. Her complexion lost its color as silence enveloped her. Entry to Esaham University was notoriously difficult, achievable only through the rigorous standardized exam or by excelling in the university's specialized admission test. This test was reserved for the truly outstanding, drawing candidates from diverse disciplines and making the chance to compete a rare gem. How did Fernanda manage to secure a spot to attend the admission test? Suddenly, Robert's hand was on Fernanda's phone, his eyes scanning the text again and again. Any annoyance he felt quickly dissipated, replaced by bubbling excitement. A rich, joyful laughter escaped him as he declared, "Brilliant, Fernanda! Absolutely brilliant!" The way Fernanda managed to secure such an incredible opportunity didn't concern him. What mattered most to him was the overwhelming pride he felt, knowing she had this chance to take the exam. With a stiff smile and a voice laced with tension, Michelle replied, "Yes, well done." "What's so great about that?" Erika scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. "It's not as if she's actually going to pass." "But it's certainly better than not being qualified to try at all, right?" Fernanda retorted smoothly. Color rushed to Erika's cheeks, her anger palpable. She slammed her fork down, the clatter echoing sharply. "I've had enough!" she declared vehemently, before storming off in a huff. After dinner, Robert and Michelle walked Fernanda to her cozy and thoughtfully prepared room. The room was airy and uncluttered, resonating with Fernanda's love for understated elegance. "Across the hall is your sister's room," Michelle explained, her voice carrying a warm undertone. "Next to yours is your elder brother's. He's often caught up with work commitments and rarely at home. Your younger brother, who's currently at a summer camp overseas, has his room beside Erika's." She continued, a smile softening her features, "If there's anything you need to make your stay more comfortable, please don't hesitate to tell me, dear." Robert watched Michelle with a look of quiet approval. "Thank you," Fernanda murmured, her eyes downcast as she spoke. "I think I'll take a shower now." At that, Robert and Michelle excused themselves, leaving Fernanda to her privacy. As she stepped under the spray, cool water washed over her, drenching her face and lending a luminous sheen to her eyes. They sparkled against the backdrop of water droplets on her lashes, enhancing the serene yet frosty allure of her features. Once out of the shower, Fernanda blow-dried her hair until it was just damp. As Fernanda from the bathroom, she dug through the suitcase and found a photo of Hiram Hammond. The photo was a solemn memorial portrait of Hiram. Though not bound to her by blood, he had nurtured her with unwavering care and affection. To Fernanda, he was her entire world, her only family. That cherished photo, a tribute to his memory, was something she couldn't afford to lose. Gazing at the kind, gentle face in the photo, Fernanda was enveloped by a surge of affection. With gentle hands, she cleaned the photograph and lovingly placed it on a side table in the room. Within the next two days, the villa had welcomed two additional guests--Michelle's nephew and niece. The man exhibited an unseemly l**tfulness, with his gaze persistently fixed on Fernanda whenever he could manage. Meanwhile, the woman had aligned herself with Erika, openly manifesting her contempt and animosity toward Fernanda through both overt and subtle jabs. Disenchanted by their presence, Fernanda chose to distance herself from the villa's stifling atmosphere. As the sun dawdled on the brink of the horizon, the evening air, warm yet prickled with tension, brushed against her. Seeking a brief escape, Fernanda wandered to a convenience store and picked up a can of cold beer. Positioned against a lamppost, she deftly popped open the can single-handedly. The refreshing chill of the beer soothed her throat as she drank. A slight tilt of her head caused the collar of her shirt to shift delicately, exposing the elegant contour of her collarbone. With an air of sophistication, her neck arched gracefully, like someone relishing a glass of champagne in an exclusive bar. Having savored the last drop, Fernanda tossed the can with a casual flick of her wrist, watching it arc smoothly into the bin with a satisfying clink. Not far off, someone hidden in the dim interior of a black sedan watched intently. Bobby, palpably impressed, turned to his companion and remarked with a mix of awe and admiration, "Cristian, this girl is something else!" Chapter 5 Attacked Cristian Reed, who was sprawling in the backseat, remained silent, his eyes firmly shut. "Wow, the girl is stunning! Check out those legs--so beautiful and flawless! Did you see her toss that can, Cristian? She's got skills that could rival yours!" Bobby's incessant babble finally pierced Cristian's reserve. With a sigh, Cristian's eyes fluttered open. Just then, the headlights from an approaching vehicle swept across his face, accentuating its angular contours and highlighting a small mole beneath his eye. Drawing out his words, Cristian replied with a lazy drawl, his voice a deep, soothing rumble laced with a trace of exhaustion, "Aren't you getting engaged soon? Isn't the eldest Morgan daughter meant to be yours?" Bobby visibly flinched at the mention, his expression contorting into one of clear distaste. "She's nothing but a stray who got lost as a child and grew up in some nowhere place. Who's to say she isn't just a goddamn ugly rural bumpkin? My friends probably see me as some unlucky fool. Cristian, you are my cousin. You should not make fun of me like they do!" Cristian merely crossed his arms, extending his long legs and settling back more comfortably without a word. The silence seemed to deepen Bobby's frustration, as if sealing his fate. Yet, as Bobby's eyes landed on the girl's striking figure under the streetlight again, his mood shifted, and a flicker of curiosity lit up his face. With a playful grin, Bobby lowered the window and leaned slightly out, his tone dripping with charm. "Hey there, gorgeous. Can I offer you a ride?" "No, thank you." Her words were crisp and frosty, cutting through the evening like a cold breeze, leaving a chill that touched both men. In the backseat, Cristian's body tensed. His eyes snapped open, his head whipping around toward the sound of the voice. That voice? It unmistakably belonged to the girl he had met in that dimly lit motel. Cristian acted with such swiftness that he seemed to blur the lines between thought and action as he swung the car door open and emerged. Fernanda mistook his approach for a mere flirtatious gesture. Without giving him another thought, she turned away and continued on her path. She had only taken a few steps when she felt a strong, unyielding grip halt her progress. She spun around, coming face-to-face with the man who had stopped her. Towering and strikingly handsome, he possessed an aura of undeniable presence. One hand was nonchalantly placed in his pocket, while the other securely grasped her arm. His piercing gaze locked with hers. "Well, if it isn't you!" Cristian muttered slowly, a hint of recognition in his voice. "Seems like we keep meeting, huh?" Fernanda's eyes flickered with surprise as she realized who he was--the man from that unforgettable night. Given that he was a dangerous fugitive, she wanted to keep her distance from him. Swiftly regaining her composure, she adopted an aloof demeanor. "I'm sorry, sir. You must be mistaken," she replied evenly. "No," Cristian responded, his voice low and steady, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "A debt of gratitude is something I never forget." His remark revealed a depth to his character. For Cristian, repaying a good deed wasn't just a courtesy--it was a principle he lived by. Meanwhile, Bobby had exited the car and now stood a short distance away, his expression one of utter bewilderment. "What's going on?" he inquired. Cristian brushed off Bobby's presence, focusing instead on holding the car door open for Fernanda with a subtle nod. Fernanda stayed rooted in place, her gaze sharp with caution. "What do you mean by that?" "I'd like to take you to dinner. Would you join me?" Cristian urged with a warm, inviting smile. It came across as a question, but Fernanda could discern from the inflection in his voice that he wasn't genuinely offering her an option to decline. Her familiarity with his nature left no room for misunderstanding. Refusing him might only provoke him to force her into the car himself. With a sigh, she gave a subdued nod. "Fine." A faint smile flickered across Cristian's face as he graciously gestured for her to enter, then smoothly took his place behind the wheel. Bobby blinked in shock, his mouth hanging open. "You've got to be kidding me, Cristian. This is incredible!" Cristian had effortlessly ensnared the alluring girl with a mere handful of words, an accomplishment Bobby found profoundly impressive. As Bobby tried the back door, he found it unexpectedly locked. "Cristian?" he inquired, a hint of confusion in his tone. Cristian commanded firmly, "Leave." Frozen in place in the brisk evening air, Bobby watched the sleek black car vanish into the shadows of the night. He was the first to spot the girl! Why had they left him behind? Inside the car, Cristian shattered the lingering silence by firing off a torrent of questions. "Are you from Esaham or Zhota?" "Zhota," she answered softly. "And your name?" "Letty Molina." "How old are you?" "Twenty-five," Fernanda replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Cristian stole a sideways glance at her, his voice laced with skepticism. "Doesn't seem like it." "Reality seldom mirrors our expectations," Fernanda replied, her tone unwavering. "Take your appearance, for instance. In that impeccable suit, you're the perfect picture of a business tycoon. Yet, you're the same fugitive I stumbled upon the other night." Cristian couldn't help but laugh, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You do have a point." Fernanda was finally no longer feigning ignorance about their past encounter. Cristian was relieved. Had she chosen to continue her charade, he had his own methods to have her drop the act. As usual, Esaham's traffic was a snarled mess. Cristian veered onto a less congested side street, hoping to evade the endless sea of cars. Breaking the silence, he suggested, "I know a cozy spot run by a Zhota native--serves excellent food. Let's head there." "Sure," she replied, her tone calm but firm. Just as Fernanda's reply hung in the air, a jarring crash echoed from behind, jolting the car forward. She was thrust back, the seatbelt gnawing into her shoulder. Cristian's gaze darted to the rearview mirror. Suddenly, a van cut sharply across their path, blocking them. On either side, vehicles converged, spilling out men brandishing grim tools, their silhouettes ominous in the dim streetlight. Without hesitation, Cristian reached into the center console, retrieving a kn*fe. "Whatever happens, keep yourself inside the car. Don't even think about stepping out," he instructed firmly, pressing her back into the seat. With a resolute nod, he went on, "I'll take care of them, and afterward, dinner's on me." Cristian wrapped up his conversation, offering Fernanda a fleeting smile that appeared untouched by the surrounding tension. Fernanda folded her arms and settled deeper into her seat, her face a mask of tranquility as she observed Cristian approach the group of armed adversaries. The scene was stark--one man facing off against a throng armed to the teeth. The odds were clearly not in his favor. Yet, as Cristian lifted his foot and dispatched two of the men to the ground with a single, silent kick, Fernanda took note of his precision and power. His technique spoke of extensive training and raw capability. The gang, incited by Cristian's defiance, rushed at him collectively. Sticks sliced through the air, each strike landing with a dense thud that echoed menace. Cristian, however, danced through the tumult with a grace that seemed almost serene. Despite their advantage in numbers, his assailants found themselves floundering to overpower him. One attacker received a blunt punch straight to the face, staggering backward and eventually collapsing against the hood of Cristian's car. As he dabbed at the bl**d dripping from his nose, the man snarled in rage. Catching sight of Fernanda inside the vehicle, a sinister idea sparked within him... ...... 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) &5& | Fragrant Fiction | 62 | https://www.facebook.com/61565957015132/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| 2681490 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/10/25, 7:56 PM | 1738828443 | 1749603394 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | IMAGE | His Scorned Bride Turned Out To Be Legendary | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67179322-fb_contact-enj83_6-0110-c3-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=060236&accid=985743679749990&exdata=D6FAA275DE3CB432AB9E359696EBE524082CD625748BECFB | 4.3210510665256E+14 | Fragrant Fiction | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474848606_1365531757940940_5216758813987344125_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=BODAmoCO0yAQ7kNvgHE6GLH&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYDmY7OzyC9RT7FkFEoUENONN4WXUbqW3JAjx4A_n09qrQ&oe=67AA3561 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Rumors claimed she was an uneducated, hot-tempered bumpkin. She sneered and revealed her true identity as a renowned designer, gaming pro, celebrated artist, and business tycoon, leaving everyone stunned! ===== "We're here to escort you home, Miss Morgan." "Your parents have been tirelessly searching for you over the years. Upon discovering your whereabouts, they promptly dispatched us to ensure your return." Fernanda Morgan surveyed the men in crisply tailored suits who stood before her, he appeared to be a butler. "Moreover, the Harper family is keenly anticipating your return. You are to be engaged to Mr. Harper once you return!" "Alright then. Let's go," Fernanda agreed with a slight nod. She collected her already-packed belongings and stepped into the vehicle. The journey from the small town of Zhota to Esaham was a long one, spanning at least two days by car. As dusk enveloped the sky, they pulled into another small town. The butler located a modestly appealing motel and proposed they stay overnight. Fernanda's accommodation was at the far end of the second-floor hallway, Room 201--arguably the best room available. The butler and the rest of their group opted to stay on the lower floor. The night was unusually warm and dry, rendering the room's aging air conditioner useless. Fernanda opened the window to invite a cool breeze, causing the curtains to dance gently in the evening air. Fresh from her shower, she dimmed the lights and crawled into bed for the night. Drifting into a light sleep, she was jolted awake by a disturbance outside. A subsequent noise at the window snapped her to full alert. As she bolted upright, a shadowy figure burst through, launching itself onto her bed. The freezing touch of a bl*de hovered at her neck as a low, threatening voice growled, "Don't you dare move." Immobile, Fernanda's body clenched in fear. The faint, iron tang of bl**d lingered on the man's sleeve--a grim reminder of his dangerousness. This unmistakable hint solidified the fact: this man was no one to mess with. Outside, the commotion intensified. Shortly after, a forceful knock resonated at the door. A coarse voice demanded, "Is anyone there? Open up now!" As the voice still echoed, the kn*fe at Fernanda's neck dug in slightly deeper. The man's voice dripped with malice as he warned, "Get rid of them, or you're as good as dead." His right arm ensnared her waist, his left hand unwavering with the kn*fe at her throat. Through his firm grip and calculated movements, Fernanda realized he was deadly serious. Cornered, she knew she had to play along for the time being. "Sure." With a soft, steady voice, Fernanda reassured him. "It'll all be okay." With no answer from inside, the outsiders used a master key to unlock the door and stormed in. At the sound, the man jerked Fernanda's baggy T-shirt, pulling her down onto his lap and encircling her with his arm, forcing her to straddle him as he shifted position. Right then, the door flung open, and a stark beam of flashlight flooded the room. Fernanda let out a panicked scream, quickly bending over the man to obscure him from view. "Sweetheart, what the hell is this place? How could anyone have the audacity to barge in like that?" Acting as though she was terrified, Fernanda held onto the man, her grip firm and desperate. Her voice, usually sweet and enticing, now carried an edge of annoyance mingled with a breathless charm that was utterly captivating. Suddenly, Fernanda felt the man beneath her tense up. Seconds later, he encircled her with his arm and expertly flipped over, drawing the blanket over both their bodies. As the blanket slid, its soft whispers merged with the steady rhythm of their breaths, painting a scene of understated sensuality. Faces flushed with embarrassment, the group at the door stood stiffly, unprepared for the private display before them. Nonetheless, the couple inside the room showed no signs of halting their intimate exchange. The motel's security guard chuckled uncomfortably, "Looks like they're pretty busy... Maybe we ought to leave, huh?" One of the men brushed past the guard and entered the room with a purposeful stride. Fernanda's heartbeat skyrocketed as she heard the footsteps drawing near. Could they actually be contemplating unveiling them? A chilling bl*de pressed against her side, its pointed tip grazing her skin, sending a shiver through her already tense body. The footsteps halted next to the bed, and with a surge of courage, Fernanda leaned in closer to the man beneath her. Pulled back gently, the blanket gave way to the flashlight's piercing light, exposing a glimpse of her delicate, b*re back. In the softness of the bed, their movements continued unabated. Fernanda's lips met his in a fervent kiss, her hair cascading down to obscure his face, while his hand gently caressed her side. The subdued m**ns that slipped from their lips lent the scene an air of genuine intimacy. Abruptly, a voice erupted from beyond the room, piercing the tranquility. "Boss! Something's going down out on the street!" Instantly, the man at the bedside sprang to his feet and vanished through the door. With the door slamming behind him, Fernanda disentangled herself and slipped from the bed. Moonlight seeped through a crack in the curtains, casting delicate shadows across the room. The man watched as Fernanda's slender figure was silhouetted against the pale light. Memories of earlier washed over him; his fingers traced her skin, so smooth and velvety. She had gripped his arms, her delicate skin pressing softly against his. Her hair had brushed his face, each strand silky, carrying a subtle fragrance. Her voice had been a soft melody, soothing to his ears. This woman was serene and astute. Amid the intrusion, rather than succumb to panic, she had pressed her lips to his, a kiss so convincing it had deceived the pursuers. Her technique was rather clumsy, only pressing her lips against his without any other movement--evidently her first kiss. Breaking the ensuing quiet, the man's voice softened from its usual sternness to a rasp tinged with all**re. "Was that your first kiss?" Chapter 2 That's Gross With deliberate movements, Fernanda pulled out a piece of clothing from her suitcase, her voice sharp and cool. "This is none of your concern. I think it's time for you to leave." All she desired at that moment was to hasten the man's departure. Barely a moment before, when he had embraced her, his fingers had brushed against her back, lingering just a moment too long. The calluses on his fingertips were coarse, betraying more wear than most. His adeptness with a knife and his swift reflexes hinted at a background that was far from ordinary. Cutting off the thought immediately, Fernanda dismissed any curiosity about his background. From below, the blare of a car horn shattered the silence. The man stood up smoothly. During their earlier intimacy, he had loosened his shirt, though his trousers remained crisply in place. He buttoned his shirt as he approached the window and casually tossed something to Fernanda. "My apologies for any discomfort caused earlier. Consider this your compensation," he said with a nod. With the graceful precision of a panther, he sprang out of the window. Fernanda approached the window, peering out into the night where, under the faint illumination of the streetlights, she observed him scale the wall effortlessly. He navigated the ledges until he merged with the shadows. She stooped to retrieve the object he had left--a sleek black card. The night's disruptions had been met with suitable compensation--a fair recompense. Fernanda pocketed the card and drew the curtains closed. The following morning, the butler approached Fernanda with a look of concern etched across his face. "Miss Morgan, I hope you managed to rest last night. There was an inspection for a burglary, which stirred quite the disturbance." She shrugged casually and muttered, "It was fine." As they drove, the butler stole glances at Fernanda through the rearview mirror. Reclined in her seat, she gazed out the window, her elegant profile cast in contemplative silence. He mused quietly to himself that she did not embody the typical country-raised youth. Her calm sophistication and graceful demeanor set her apart, enhancing her natural charm and making her an effortlessly endearing presence. After two days of travel, Fernanda stepped into the bustling streets of Esaham. The city was a teeming metropolis, alive with vibrant streets and a relentless stream of traffic. Shortly after 8 a.m., a stretch Lincoln limousine glided into the upscale estate of Dawn Villas, coming to a halt in front of a majestic three-story white villa. Stepping gracefully from the limousine, Fernanda let her eyes wander over the grandeur of the building before her. The villa, both opulent and imposing, was a testament to vast wealth. Her lips curled into a faint, almost mocking smile as she gave it a scrutinizing glance. This was her father Robert Morgan's residence. From humble beginnings, he had climbed to wealth and status with her late mother's support. After amassing his fortune, Robert had coldly cast aside her mother, choosing to revel in a relationship with his mistress. That woman--Michelle Morgan--had contributed nothing to his success, yet she now sat smugly in the seat Fernanda's mother had rightfully earned. She basked in the luxuries and respect that were never hers to claim. Worse still, Michelle had dared to flaunt her victory, parading her stolen life before Fernanda's grieving mother, a cruelty that had ultimately led to Fernanda's mother's untimely death. To the world, Michelle was seen as Robert's second wife, a symbol of grace and charm. Michelle even had the audacity to claim she was Fernanda's real mother. But Fernanda knew better. Behind the polished veneer lay the truth, raw and unforgiving. Fernanda's dark eyes momentarily hardened, a flicker of steely determination glinting within them. Her mother was no longer here to seek justice, but Fernanda vowed she would deliver it on her behalf. Just then, the villa's grand door swung open, revealing the pair responsible for the upheaval in her life. Robert stood tall and pristine, the sharp lines of his tailored suit accentuating his stature. His gold-rimmed glasses reflected the warm light, adding an air of calculated sophistication. At his side was Michelle, the very picture of elegance. Her fitted dress clung perfectly to her poised figure, exuding refinement and composure. "Fernanda, you've come back." Robert greeted warmly, a smile playing on his lips as he waved her over. "Come in." Fernanda's eyes darted downward, concealing the storm of emotions swirling within her. With a tentative step, she moved closer. Robert, with an arm encircling Michelle's waist, introduced her with a gesture. "Fernanda, this is your mother." With a casual wave toward the living room, he remarked, "And that's Erika, your sister." On the couch, Erika Morgan was engaged with the television, only looking up when Fernanda approached. Her eyes narrowed judgmentally at Fernanda's plain dress, her face contorting into a sneer. With an exaggerated eye-roll and a sarcastic tone, Erika muttered, "That country bumpkin? Dad, she's no sister of mine." Michelle approached Fernanda with a warm smile, linking her arm with Fernanda's. "Oh, Fernanda, Erika's just teasing. Pay her no mind. I've prepared breakfast for you. You must be starving. Let's have something to eat." Silently, Fernanda slipped her arm free and strode with determined steps into the dining room. Michelle paused, her smile faltering as a shadow of confusion crossed her face. She turned to Robert, her voice tinged with concern. "Robert, what's gotten into her?" He sighed, his voice a blend of empathy and resignation, "Fernanda was raised in the countryside. She's a bit unrefined, that's all. It's nothing against you, Michelle." Michelle nodded slowly, a soft smile reclaiming her features. "No worries," she murmured, her resolve firming. "I'll guide her as she settles in, teach her the essentials of elegance, and shape her into a poised young woman." Robert gave a supportive pat on her back, his expression one of appreciative assurance. In the dining room, Michelle seated herself next to Fernanda. "Fernanda, you must try this beef," she insisted, placing a tender slice onto Fernanda's plate. "It's Erika's favorite." Fernanda responded by promptly lifting the beef from her plate and dropping it into an empty plate with a clear look of disgust. "That's gross," she stated flatly, her voice void of any warmth. Chapter 3 How Could You Lie? The moment those words left Fernanda's lips, the entire table came to a standstill, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief. Erika, her patience fraying, brought her hand down hard on the table and demanded, "Country bumpkin, what are you even saying? My mom was kind enough to offer you this beef, and you have the nerve to be rude about it?" Fernanda met their astonished looks with a mask of feigned innocence. "I was clearly referring to the beef," she said with a deliberate pause. "It's raw and quite frankly, it looks unappetizing. What else could I possibly mean?" "You..." Erika's retort faltered, caught in her throat. Admitting that she thought Fernanda was insulting Michelle was out of the question. With a slow, calculated blink, Fernanda went on, "Unless, perhaps, you think there's something even more gross on this table than the raw beef?" At this, Erika's face registered sheer astonishment, and for a split second, her voice seemed to have deserted her entirely. Not a single word could she muster. It was Michelle who broke the awkward silence, interjecting smoothly, "Fernanda, the dish you're referring to is called beef tartare. It's a renowned delicacy made from top-notch beef and a pasteurized egg, typically found in high-end dining establishments. Perhaps it's something you've not had the opportunity to try before." Her voice subtly implied that Fernanda's simpler past might not have included such refined culinary experiences. Fernanda allowed a mischievous smirk to play at the corners of her lips and replied, "Our ancestors honed an array of sophisticated recipes and techniques. They certainly didn't refine these culinary arts for us to regress to consuming raw meat as if we were lost in the wild." Michelle's expression briefly betrayed a touch of discomfort, yet she managed to sustain a polite smile, nodding her agreement somewhat rigidly. "You bring up a valid point, I'll give you that." "I agree. I'm not fond of beef tartare either," Robert added with a nod, his gaze settling on Fernanda with evident pride. "I've always preferred classic tastes myself. It seems Fernanda has inherited that from me." Fernanda offered a subdued smile, delicately wiping her fork on a napkin after attempting the beef tartare, then resumed eating with a composed demeanor, seemingly unaffected by Erika's glaring resentment. Michelle suddenly ventured a soft query. "Fernanda, which university are you attending these days? Erika is at Luminary University, one of the top schools in the country. What about you?" At this, Erika's face morphed into a self-satisfied grin. Robert's tone grew cooler as he intervened on Fernanda's behalf. "I've spoken to a few contacts back in Fernanda's hometown. Currently, she isn't enrolled in any university." Michelle's eyes went wide, her voice cutting through the silence as she blurted, "What did you just say? Fernanda isn't attending any university? That simply cannot be! What will happen when the Harpers find out? Mrs. Harper had just mentioned a few days ago that they were planning a grand welcome party for Fernanda upon her return. If they learn she's not enrolled anywhere, it could be disastrous." Robert intervened, his tone laced with irritation, cutting through Michelle's rising panic. "Enough. I will take care of Fernanda's education myself." From the corner, Erika couldn't suppress a snicker. Imagining Fernanda managing to sneak into some low-ranked school through connections was downright amusing to her. The Harper family, celebrating the arrival of what Erika considered a rural nobody, was an absurd thought. Fernanda's crude and graceless demeanor would certainly earn their disapproval the moment they saw her. Erika found Bobby Harper quite charming, but his family's insistence on honoring their promise to engage him to Fernanda and pushing Robert to reintegrate Fernanda into their circles seemed ridiculously foolish to her. She was convinced that the Harper family would never develop an affinity for someone as lacking in education as Fernanda. The mood around the table grew tense as they discussed Fernanda's academic prospects. Amidst the awkward silence, Fernanda herself reached for a napkin, dabbing at her lips gracefully. "I have already registered to take the entrance exam for Esaham University," she announced, her voice steady and clear. "Assuming all goes well, I plan to attend there in the near future." Erika was caught off guard and, for a moment, was speechless before she burst into unrestrained laughter. The idea that Esaham University, the most prestigious in the nation where seats were as coveted as gold, would allow Fernanda to take the entrance exam was laughable. Clearly, this was a lie. Robert's demeanor hardened, his eyes narrowing with a frosty glare. He furrowed his brow in disapproval and said sternly, "Fernanda, how could you lie about being granted the opportunity to take the entrance exam for Esaham University? Was lying the only lesson you picked up in your little hometown?" "Honey, calm down," Michelle interjected quickly. "Fernanda was only trying to impress you." Turning to Fernanda with a soft, maternal expression, Michelle remarked in a soothing tone, "There's no shame in skipping college, Fernanda. You don't have to pretend or feel lesser because of it. We're family here, and we don't judge you on such matters." Her words, though gentle, were saturated with disbelief, assuming Fernanda was fabricating her story. Fernanda, without a word of defense, simply pulled out her smartphone. After a few taps, she pushed it across the table towards the center. Everyone leaned in to see the display. Erika's laughter stopped abruptly as she stared at the screen. Displayed prominently was Fernanda's Esaham University entrance exam admission ticket, complete with her photo and name in bold. Snatching the phone, Erika's eyes grew wide as she inspected it repeatedly. Her anger boiling over, she tossed it away and exclaimed, "This can't be real! You edited this, didn't you?" Chapter 4 This Girl Is Something Else "This isn't a photo--it's an online document," Fernanda stated in an even tone, her voice steady and clear. "Notice the Esaham University web address at the top?" Erika was at a loss for words. Her complexion lost its color as silence enveloped her. Entry to Esaham University was notoriously difficult, achievable only through the rigorous standardized exam or by excelling in the university's specialized admission test. This test was reserved for the truly outstanding, drawing candidates from diverse disciplines and making the chance to compete a rare gem. How did Fernanda manage to secure a spot to attend the admission test? Suddenly, Robert's hand was on Fernanda's phone, his eyes scanning the text again and again. Any annoyance he felt quickly dissipated, replaced by bubbling excitement. A rich, joyful laughter escaped him as he declared, "Brilliant, Fernanda! Absolutely brilliant!" The way Fernanda managed to secure such an incredible opportunity didn't concern him. What mattered most to him was the overwhelming pride he felt, knowing she had this chance to take the exam. With a stiff smile and a voice laced with tension, Michelle replied, "Yes, well done." "What's so great about that?" Erika scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. "It's not as if she's actually going to pass." "But it's certainly better than not being qualified to try at all, right?" Fernanda retorted smoothly. Color rushed to Erika's cheeks, her anger palpable. She slammed her fork down, the clatter echoing sharply. "I've had enough!" she declared vehemently, before storming off in a huff. After dinner, Robert and Michelle walked Fernanda to her cozy and thoughtfully prepared room. The room was airy and uncluttered, resonating with Fernanda's love for understated elegance. "Across the hall is your sister's room," Michelle explained, her voice carrying a warm undertone. "Next to yours is your elder brother's. He's often caught up with work commitments and rarely at home. Your younger brother, who's currently at a summer camp overseas, has his room beside Erika's." She continued, a smile softening her features, "If there's anything you need to make your stay more comfortable, please don't hesitate to tell me, dear." Robert watched Michelle with a look of quiet approval. "Thank you," Fernanda murmured, her eyes downcast as she spoke. "I think I'll take a shower now." At that, Robert and Michelle excused themselves, leaving Fernanda to her privacy. As she stepped under the spray, cool water washed over her, drenching her face and lending a luminous sheen to her eyes. They sparkled against the backdrop of water droplets on her lashes, enhancing the serene yet frosty allure of her features. Once out of the shower, Fernanda blow-dried her hair until it was just damp. As Fernanda from the bathroom, she dug through the suitcase and found a photo of Hiram Hammond. The photo was a solemn memorial portrait of Hiram. Though not bound to her by blood, he had nurtured her with unwavering care and affection. To Fernanda, he was her entire world, her only family. That cherished photo, a tribute to his memory, was something she couldn't afford to lose. Gazing at the kind, gentle face in the photo, Fernanda was enveloped by a surge of affection. With gentle hands, she cleaned the photograph and lovingly placed it on a side table in the room. Within the next two days, the villa had welcomed two additional guests--Michelle's nephew and niece. The man exhibited an unseemly l**tfulness, with his gaze persistently fixed on Fernanda whenever he could manage. Meanwhile, the woman had aligned herself with Erika, openly manifesting her contempt and animosity toward Fernanda through both overt and subtle jabs. Disenchanted by their presence, Fernanda chose to distance herself from the villa's stifling atmosphere. As the sun dawdled on the brink of the horizon, the evening air, warm yet prickled with tension, brushed against her. Seeking a brief escape, Fernanda wandered to a convenience store and picked up a can of cold beer. Positioned against a lamppost, she deftly popped open the can single-handedly. The refreshing chill of the beer soothed her throat as she drank. A slight tilt of her head caused the collar of her shirt to shift delicately, exposing the elegant contour of her collarbone. With an air of sophistication, her neck arched gracefully, like someone relishing a glass of champagne in an exclusive bar. Having savored the last drop, Fernanda tossed the can with a casual flick of her wrist, watching it arc smoothly into the bin with a satisfying clink. Not far off, someone hidden in the dim interior of a black sedan watched intently. Bobby, palpably impressed, turned to his companion and remarked with a mix of awe and admiration, "Cristian, this girl is something else!" Chapter 5 Attacked Cristian Reed, who was sprawling in the backseat, remained silent, his eyes firmly shut. "Wow, the girl is stunning! Check out those legs--so beautiful and flawless! Did you see her toss that can, Cristian? She's got skills that could rival yours!" Bobby's incessant babble finally pierced Cristian's reserve. With a sigh, Cristian's eyes fluttered open. Just then, the headlights from an approaching vehicle swept across his face, accentuating its angular contours and highlighting a small mole beneath his eye. Drawing out his words, Cristian replied with a lazy drawl, his voice a deep, soothing rumble laced with a trace of exhaustion, "Aren't you getting engaged soon? Isn't the eldest Morgan daughter meant to be yours?" Bobby visibly flinched at the mention, his expression contorting into one of clear distaste. "She's nothing but a stray who got lost as a child and grew up in some nowhere place. Who's to say she isn't just a goddamn ugly rural bumpkin? My friends probably see me as some unlucky fool. Cristian, you are my cousin. You should not make fun of me like they do!" Cristian merely crossed his arms, extending his long legs and settling back more comfortably without a word. The silence seemed to deepen Bobby's frustration, as if sealing his fate. Yet, as Bobby's eyes landed on the girl's striking figure under the streetlight again, his mood shifted, and a flicker of curiosity lit up his face. With a playful grin, Bobby lowered the window and leaned slightly out, his tone dripping with charm. "Hey there, gorgeous. Can I offer you a ride?" "No, thank you." Her words were crisp and frosty, cutting through the evening like a cold breeze, leaving a chill that touched both men. In the backseat, Cristian's body tensed. His eyes snapped open, his head whipping around toward the sound of the voice. That voice? It unmistakably belonged to the girl he had met in that dimly lit motel. Cristian acted with such swiftness that he seemed to blur the lines between thought and action as he swung the car door open and emerged. Fernanda mistook his approach for a mere flirtatious gesture. Without giving him another thought, she turned away and continued on her path. She had only taken a few steps when she felt a strong, unyielding grip halt her progress. She spun around, coming face-to-face with the man who had stopped her. Towering and strikingly handsome, he possessed an aura of undeniable presence. One hand was nonchalantly placed in his pocket, while the other securely grasped her arm. His piercing gaze locked with hers. "Well, if it isn't you!" Cristian muttered slowly, a hint of recognition in his voice. "Seems like we keep meeting, huh?" Fernanda's eyes flickered with surprise as she realized who he was--the man from that unforgettable night. Given that he was a dangerous fugitive, she wanted to keep her distance from him. Swiftly regaining her composure, she adopted an aloof demeanor. "I'm sorry, sir. You must be mistaken," she replied evenly. "No," Cristian responded, his voice low and steady, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "A debt of gratitude is something I never forget." His remark revealed a depth to his character. For Cristian, repaying a good deed wasn't just a courtesy--it was a principle he lived by. Meanwhile, Bobby had exited the car and now stood a short distance away, his expression one of utter bewilderment. "What's going on?" he inquired. Cristian brushed off Bobby's presence, focusing instead on holding the car door open for Fernanda with a subtle nod. Fernanda stayed rooted in place, her gaze sharp with caution. "What do you mean by that?" "I'd like to take you to dinner. Would you join me?" Cristian urged with a warm, inviting smile. It came across as a question, but Fernanda could discern from the inflection in his voice that he wasn't genuinely offering her an option to decline. Her familiarity with his nature left no room for misunderstanding. Refusing him might only provoke him to force her into the car himself. With a sigh, she gave a subdued nod. "Fine." A faint smile flickered across Cristian's face as he graciously gestured for her to enter, then smoothly took his place behind the wheel. Bobby blinked in shock, his mouth hanging open. "You've got to be kidding me, Cristian. This is incredible!" Cristian had effortlessly ensnared the alluring girl with a mere handful of words, an accomplishment Bobby found profoundly impressive. As Bobby tried the back door, he found it unexpectedly locked. "Cristian?" he inquired, a hint of confusion in his tone. Cristian commanded firmly, "Leave." Frozen in place in the brisk evening air, Bobby watched the sleek black car vanish into the shadows of the night. He was the first to spot the girl! Why had they left him behind? Inside the car, Cristian shattered the lingering silence by firing off a torrent of questions. "Are you from Esaham or Zhota?" "Zhota," she answered softly. "And your name?" "Letty Molina." "How old are you?" "Twenty-five," Fernanda replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Cristian stole a sideways glance at her, his voice laced with skepticism. "Doesn't seem like it." "Reality seldom mirrors our expectations," Fernanda replied, her tone unwavering. "Take your appearance, for instance. In that impeccable suit, you're the perfect picture of a business tycoon. Yet, you're the same fugitive I stumbled upon the other night." Cristian couldn't help but laugh, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You do have a point." Fernanda was finally no longer feigning ignorance about their past encounter. Cristian was relieved. Had she chosen to continue her charade, he had his own methods to have her drop the act. As usual, Esaham's traffic was a snarled mess. Cristian veered onto a less congested side street, hoping to evade the endless sea of cars. Breaking the silence, he suggested, "I know a cozy spot run by a Zhota native--serves excellent food. Let's head there." "Sure," she replied, her tone calm but firm. Just as Fernanda's reply hung in the air, a jarring crash echoed from behind, jolting the car forward. She was thrust back, the seatbelt gnawing into her shoulder. Cristian's gaze darted to the rearview mirror. Suddenly, a van cut sharply across their path, blocking them. On either side, vehicles converged, spilling out men brandishing grim tools, their silhouettes ominous in the dim streetlight. Without hesitation, Cristian reached into the center console, retrieving a kn*fe. "Whatever happens, keep yourself inside the car. Don't even think about stepping out," he instructed firmly, pressing her back into the seat. With a resolute nod, he went on, "I'll take care of them, and afterward, dinner's on me." Cristian wrapped up his conversation, offering Fernanda a fleeting smile that appeared untouched by the surrounding tension. Fernanda folded her arms and settled deeper into her seat, her face a mask of tranquility as she observed Cristian approach the group of armed adversaries. The scene was stark--one man facing off against a throng armed to the teeth. The odds were clearly not in his favor. Yet, as Cristian lifted his foot and dispatched two of the men to the ground with a single, silent kick, Fernanda took note of his precision and power. His technique spoke of extensive training and raw capability. The gang, incited by Cristian's defiance, rushed at him collectively. Sticks sliced through the air, each strike landing with a dense thud that echoed menace. Cristian, however, danced through the tumult with a grace that seemed almost serene. Despite their advantage in numbers, his assailants found themselves floundering to overpower him. One attacker received a blunt punch straight to the face, staggering backward and eventually collapsing against the hood of Cristian's car. As he dabbed at the bl**d dripping from his nose, the man snarled in rage. Catching sight of Fernanda inside the vehicle, a sinister idea sparked within him... ...... 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) &5& | Fragrant Fiction | 62 | https://www.facebook.com/61565957015132/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| 2681473 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 4/26/25, 12:05 PM | 1738828443 | 1745687106 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | VIDEO | Read next chapter | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=157725&accid=7929461117168105&exdata=C53DCDAE4F2816FFC266C9A1606B1C59D3B8171EF9BFE028 | 3.7558525564194E+14 | Fun Novels | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475788575_1100781091729943_4486036932991216705_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=AuHfCQv8IYEQ7kNvgH5SvND&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYA8NGPGP6QxCz_4rlHtF60h1BJiUasy06D7BUl8zL2Kig&oe=67AA3F28 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | After two crazy years, she decided to let go and return him to his first love. But he refused to let her go. "Don't leave me. Tomorrow's engagement is with you!" ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi**ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his b*dmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my b*d, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red m*rk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my b*d too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You b**ch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame gr*aning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &4& | Fun Novels | 2477 | https://www.facebook.com/61563251196448/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681468 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 4/26/25, 6:39 PM | 1738828443 | 1745710776 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | VIDEO | Read next chapter | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=157725&accid=7929461117168105&exdata=C53DCDAE4F2816FFC9832F86D0CB5746F2B0A8453FA388F6 | 3.7558525564194E+14 | Fun Novels | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475777808_2060217084405423_7269115237399966874_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=V7FjXPmDk68Q7kNvgEP-2A6&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYCoNV81R3dLHK25wyYAcE5yNqN-fYd4HhBas04o-EZwAQ&oe=67AA4198 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | After two crazy years, she decided to let go and return him to his first love. But he refused to let her go. "Don't leave me. Tomorrow's engagement is with you!" ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi**ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his b*dmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my b*d, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red m*rk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my b*d too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You b**ch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame gr*aning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? 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| 2681475 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 4/26/25, 8:03 PM | 1738828443 | 1745715785 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | IMAGE | Read next chapter | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65237322-fb_contact-enj94_2-1207-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=157725&accid=304554039400649&exdata=1900C7F110003453E23C33603C461F6CF20249AA23BF04B0 | 3.7558525564194E+14 | Fun Novels | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476224427_4015864278647214_183166466880479243_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zLjEnUpGgvgQ7kNvgHtQY8f&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYCOZ_mW7BMZ7LPPKZu5ZMm09huZtkdp_kDt9aAzkCwRpQ&oe=67AA4B0D | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | The family was happy that the real daughter had returned. As she prepared to leave, the real daughter accused her of copying her designs. Everyone expected her to be humiliated, but unexpectedly, she stunned everyone by revealing her ownership of billion-dollar design patents, striking back and turning the tables. ===== "Take this for your journey. You're set on returning to your original family, and I won't hold you back. It is just that the place you're headed is impoverished and I doubt anyone will even be there to greet you..." Liam Gill, whom Harlee Sanderson had addressed as dad for years, pressed a few hundred-dollar bills into her hand. Downstairs at the Gill family villa, a spirited celebration filled the hall, while upstairs, Harlee quietly folded her clothes into her suitcase. Liam sighed. Just three days earlier, Adelina Gill had shown up holding a DNA report, proving she was his biological daughter. The revelation had sent the entire Gill family into turmoil. Follow-up tests had confirmed that Harlee, the girl who'd been part of their family for years, was not related to them by bl**d. Now that Adelina had returned, the Gills poured all their affection on her, making up for lost time. They treated her like a treasure, eager to erase the suffering she'd endured over the years. Meanwhile, Harlee's last name had been changed that very night. Liam quickly dispatched people to the countryside to locate her real parents. So far, there had been no replies. Today was all about Adelina. The festivities focused on welcoming her as the genuine daughter of the Gill family. "You have such soft skin, and these clothes have been selected with care..." Liam said softly, feeling mixed emotions as he helped Harlee sort through her wardrobe. "You should take these outfits. They're high quality. But when you go back to the countryside, I suppose..." According to the hospital, Harlee's biological parents had visited Adenarora when she was born. They left the next day and returned to their small village. To make matters worse, her parents lived in Osemery's notorious slums, a place infamous for its poverty and crime, where people were often unfriendly and violence was common. Liam surmised Harlee's future there didn't look bright. She wouldn't just lose the luxury she was used to. It seemed, soon enough, she'd be given in marriage to some country bumpkin without any say in the matter. Harlee looked at the cash Liam had pressed into her hand with a blank face. She set the money down on the bedside table. "I'm heading out now." After saying this, Harlee grabbed her suitcase and walked past the people loitering in the hallway. She moved on without glancing back. Averie Gill, Liam's wife, frowned with disdain. "What's with that attitude? Is she upset because it's not enough money for her? For God's sake, we've spent so much on her over the years, especially those beautiful, pricey clothes! How dare she act this way now? Humph! Once she walks out that door, the future ahead of her is nothing but dismal." "Mom, please don't take Harlee's attitude personally. It's only normal for her to be upset about losing her comfortable life abruptly. She's just throwing a little fit. There's no need to be mad at her," Adelina said softly, her tone filled with feigned concern. Adelina knew a bit about Harlee's background after the investigation. Harlee's biological parents were the poorest in the village with their family grave being defaced yet lacking money to fix it. Worse, Harlee's biological parents had five hungry sons, with a sick mother and a disabled father to care for. Harlee wasn't just returning to a rundown area. It was more like a nightmare. Adelina smiled gently, masking her glee. "I'll go say goodbye to Harlee." Once Harlee was out of sight, Liam let out a sigh and turned to Averie. "We raised her. She's leaving everything she's ever known. Don't be too harsh on her." "Harsh? Come on!" Averie shot back. "Her worthless parents might have switched babies on purpose to make our precious daughter suffer. Just thinking about it makes my blood boil. How could I possibly feel sorry for Harlee?" Harlee took the side exit, trying to steer clear of the banquet hall altogether. Adelina caught up with her, wearing a sugary smile. "Harlee, I really need to apologize about my thing with Collin. I know you were supposed to marry him, but he just fell head over heels for me." It felt less like an apology and more like a brag. Collin George came from a powerful family that matched the Gills. He had been engaged to Harlee, but now, with everything that had happened, the future bride had changed. "Collin has always been so sweet and caring. Honestly, I hate to flaunt our love in front of you, but he can't help it. Harlee, I hope this hasn't upset you too much," Adelina said, feigning concern. Harlee raised her eyebrows, wearing an indifferent smile. "Watching two f*ols date is hilarious. Why would I be upset?" Chapter 2 The Kind Real Daughter And The Vicious Fake One "Harlee!" Adelina shouted, her face bright red with anger. Harlee had just insulted her and Collin. Such audacity! Harlee's grin widened. "You and Collin are just perfect together. One kicks people when they're down, and the other follows the money." Adelina had just returned to the Gill family for only three days, and Collin appeared to be already smitten. Harlee found it all hilarious. Just as Adelina was about to lose her temper and hurl insults at Harlee, she noticed Averie coming down the stairs. In an instant, Adelina pressed her lips together, tears threatening to spill from her eyes as she adopted a pitiful expression. She quickly wiped away her fake tears. Averie took in the scene, her anger boiling over. She hurried over and yelled, "Harlee, it's unsurprising that your biological parents are impoverished rustic individuals. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Your lack of manners is quite apparent! You couldn't leave without taking one last jab at Adelina? Should I just throw you out?" "No manners? Maybe it's because that's the way you raised me," Harlee shot back, her smile dripping with sarcasm. Harlee had never met her real parents. When Averie claimed that Harlee lacked manners after so many years of living with the Gills, she was actually insulting the Gill family. Averie had never seen Harlee so sharp-tongued before. She pressed her hand to her chest, as if she might faint from anger. Adelina's eyes turned red, her face showing feigned concern. "Harlee, I understand you're upset. Though you are no longer part of the Gill family, I found you a job in the countryside. If you work hard, you can support yourself." Adelina held up a recommendation letter, which Harlee glanced at. It was for a cleaning job at a motel in a small town. Adelina attempted to place the letter in Harlee's hands but accidentally knocked Harlee's bag to the floor, sending a small sketchbook tumbling out. The guests in the banquet hall spotted it, their eyes growing wide with disbelief. Everyone knew Adelina had recently been celebrated as a genius in fashion design. She always carried her sketchbook with her. Soon, she would become the creative director at the Gill family's fashion company. Adelina's face twisted in mock shock as she covered her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes. "Harlee, why do you have my sketchbook in your bag?" Harlee frowned, feeling annoyed. Once again, Adelina had set her up. "How could you steal Adelina's design sketches?" Averie's expression darkened, and she raised her voice at Harlee. "You cold-hearted thief! Were you trying to rob Adelina of her future? With those designs, you could get into any fashion company! You really have some nerve. You're just a thankless snake!" At the commotion, Liam frowned and walked over. "What's going on here?" Adelina's eyes filled with tears. "Mom, dad, please don't hold it against Harlee. She must have been reluctant to leave the Gill family and therefore did something desperate. It's fine. I can always come up with new designs." "Those designs are essential for you to take over as director! Our family depends on them, too! Harlee stealing them isn't just hurting you. She's putting our whole family at risk. She's just heartless. Stop trying to defend her!" Averie snapped, her voice dripping with anger. "Mom, I'm sure Harlee didn't mean to do it..." Adelina tugged at Averie's sleeve, her voice sounding calm and compassionate. Adelina then turned to Harlee. "Harlee, I know you're afraid of having nothing once you leave the Gill family, but I can't let you keep these sketches. Yet, I will help you get a job at a clothing factory in your hometown. Please work hard and no more thieving. Just stop these sneaky tricks, okay?" The bystanders couldn't help but watch the scene unfold, each of them praising Adelina. "Adelina is simply amazing. She's not only gifted in design but also incredibly magnanimous. She's a true Gill all the way." "What's the use of stealing Adelina's sketches? Does Harlee even know how to design? She's just trying to grab what doesn't belong to her. How could she stoop to this low?" "Everyone knows how much Adelina values her designs. Even with her future at stake, she still defends Harlee. Adelina is way too kind, while Harlee is just vicious!" Amid the guests' praises, Adelina raised her head, looking gentle and virtuous. "After all, Harlee was once part of the Gill family. If I can help her, I will." The guests kept on voicing their thoughts, their opinions of Harlee sinking while their admiration for Adelina grew. They noted that while Adelina might not have been as stunning, her heart was far kinder than Harlee's. Harlee's eyes swept over the guests surrounding her. Most of them appeared to watch the situation unfold with interest, more eager to voice their opinions than uncover the truth. Eventually, Harlee's gaze landed on Adelina, who donned a smug face. Harlee had actually gone through this particular sketchbook. On Adelina's very first day back home, she had taken it out during dinner, sketching dramatically in front of everyone, eager to show off her talent for fashion design. Not satisfied yet, Adelina aimed to boost her own reputation as a design genius by misleading the guests into believing Harlee had stolen her sketchbook. Harlee scoffed. Did Adelina really not see who she was imitating, or was she just that foolish? Adelina's sketchbook held over two hundred designs, but the funniest thing was that the fifty best ones were outright copies of the latest collections from top brands. Adelina had taken beautiful, high-end designs and twisted them into complicated, tasteless mixtures, robbing them of their original grace and simplicity. Instead of couture, it resembled homework wrapped up in haste from some design major students. Worse, Harlee even spotted some of her own designs that she had previously shared online. Clearly, Adelina had been living in a fantasy for so long that she might have started to believe herself to be a design genius. Harlee's lips curled into a sarcastic smile, and her intense gaze locked onto Adelina, seeing through her antics. At Harlee's charming smile, an unshakeable feeling of unease washed over Adelina. ...... How will Harlee fight back? Can Harlee successfully find her biological parents? What happens next? 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| 2681463 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 4/27/25, 4:04 AM | 1738828443 | 1745744654 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | VIDEO | Read next chapter | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=898E73583E5F9879F8D24CC157C198E3A3CE2C8DB20DD8E3 | 1.116928118368E+14 | Heat Novel A | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475974054_919143867055081_4578714651027275920_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=EZkmv03WPboQ7kNvgE-SKCa&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYAxxSkg8hBLkq30ZphPnidC3DHgw36mMmlJovtVQFCHPw&oe=67AA36B7 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi**ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his b*dmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my b*d, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red m*rk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my b*d too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You b**ch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame gr*aning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& | Heat Novel A | 596 | https://www.facebook.com/100089743291944/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| 2681487 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 4/27/25, 6:29 PM | 1738828443 | 1745796560 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67179322-fb_contact-enj83_6-0110-c3-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=060236&accid=985743679749990&exdata=D6FAA275DE3CB432F42B68FCAD6B2FF0737A6F35CA5A479D | 4.3210510665256E+14 | Fragrant Fiction | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474778903_620150873832588_6443280496627518312_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Ge3XQXK8Hj4Q7kNvgFZMa0B&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYB2mDVC4czvvGv9Jvg2wnXn5byXcVIde3DpHKQPopH8jw&oe=67AA2BDF | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Rumors claimed she was an uneducated, hot-tempered bumpkin. She sneered and revealed her true identity as a renowned designer, gaming pro, celebrated artist, and business tycoon, leaving everyone stunned! ===== "We're here to escort you home, Miss Morgan." "Your parents have been tirelessly searching for you over the years. Upon discovering your whereabouts, they promptly dispatched us to ensure your return." Fernanda Morgan surveyed the men in crisply tailored suits who stood before her, he appeared to be a butler. "Moreover, the Harper family is keenly anticipating your return. You are to be engaged to Mr. Harper once you return!" "Alright then. Let's go," Fernanda agreed with a slight nod. She collected her already-packed belongings and stepped into the vehicle. The journey from the small town of Zhota to Esaham was a long one, spanning at least two days by car. As dusk enveloped the sky, they pulled into another small town. The butler located a modestly appealing motel and proposed they stay overnight. Fernanda's accommodation was at the far end of the second-floor hallway, Room 201--arguably the best room available. The butler and the rest of their group opted to stay on the lower floor. The night was unusually warm and dry, rendering the room's aging air conditioner useless. Fernanda opened the window to invite a cool breeze, causing the curtains to dance gently in the evening air. Fresh from her shower, she dimmed the lights and crawled into bed for the night. Drifting into a light sleep, she was jolted awake by a disturbance outside. A subsequent noise at the window snapped her to full alert. As she bolted upright, a shadowy figure burst through, launching itself onto her bed. The freezing touch of a bl*de hovered at her neck as a low, threatening voice growled, "Don't you dare move." Immobile, Fernanda's body clenched in fear. The faint, iron tang of bl**d lingered on the man's sleeve--a grim reminder of his dangerousness. This unmistakable hint solidified the fact: this man was no one to mess with. Outside, the commotion intensified. Shortly after, a forceful knock resonated at the door. A coarse voice demanded, "Is anyone there? Open up now!" As the voice still echoed, the kn*fe at Fernanda's neck dug in slightly deeper. The man's voice dripped with malice as he warned, "Get rid of them, or you're as good as dead." His right arm ensnared her waist, his left hand unwavering with the kn*fe at her throat. Through his firm grip and calculated movements, Fernanda realized he was deadly serious. Cornered, she knew she had to play along for the time being. "Sure." With a soft, steady voice, Fernanda reassured him. "It'll all be okay." With no answer from inside, the outsiders used a master key to unlock the door and stormed in. At the sound, the man jerked Fernanda's baggy T-shirt, pulling her down onto his lap and encircling her with his arm, forcing her to straddle him as he shifted position. Right then, the door flung open, and a stark beam of flashlight flooded the room. Fernanda let out a panicked scream, quickly bending over the man to obscure him from view. "Sweetheart, what the hell is this place? How could anyone have the audacity to barge in like that?" Acting as though she was terrified, Fernanda held onto the man, her grip firm and desperate. Her voice, usually sweet and enticing, now carried an edge of annoyance mingled with a breathless charm that was utterly captivating. Suddenly, Fernanda felt the man beneath her tense up. Seconds later, he encircled her with his arm and expertly flipped over, drawing the blanket over both their bodies. As the blanket slid, its soft whispers merged with the steady rhythm of their breaths, painting a scene of understated sensuality. Faces flushed with embarrassment, the group at the door stood stiffly, unprepared for the private display before them. Nonetheless, the couple inside the room showed no signs of halting their intimate exchange. The motel's security guard chuckled uncomfortably, "Looks like they're pretty busy... Maybe we ought to leave, huh?" One of the men brushed past the guard and entered the room with a purposeful stride. Fernanda's heartbeat skyrocketed as she heard the footsteps drawing near. Could they actually be contemplating unveiling them? A chilling bl*de pressed against her side, its pointed tip grazing her skin, sending a shiver through her already tense body. The footsteps halted next to the bed, and with a surge of courage, Fernanda leaned in closer to the man beneath her. Pulled back gently, the blanket gave way to the flashlight's piercing light, exposing a glimpse of her delicate, b*re back. In the softness of the bed, their movements continued unabated. Fernanda's lips met his in a fervent kiss, her hair cascading down to obscure his face, while his hand gently caressed her side. The subdued m**ns that slipped from their lips lent the scene an air of genuine intimacy. Abruptly, a voice erupted from beyond the room, piercing the tranquility. "Boss! Something's going down out on the street!" Instantly, the man at the bedside sprang to his feet and vanished through the door. With the door slamming behind him, Fernanda disentangled herself and slipped from the bed. Moonlight seeped through a crack in the curtains, casting delicate shadows across the room. The man watched as Fernanda's slender figure was silhouetted against the pale light. Memories of earlier washed over him; his fingers traced her skin, so smooth and velvety. She had gripped his arms, her delicate skin pressing softly against his. Her hair had brushed his face, each strand silky, carrying a subtle fragrance. Her voice had been a soft melody, soothing to his ears. This woman was serene and astute. Amid the intrusion, rather than succumb to panic, she had pressed her lips to his, a kiss so convincing it had deceived the pursuers. Her technique was rather clumsy, only pressing her lips against his without any other movement--evidently her first kiss. Breaking the ensuing quiet, the man's voice softened from its usual sternness to a rasp tinged with all**re. "Was that your first kiss?" Chapter 2 That's Gross With deliberate movements, Fernanda pulled out a piece of clothing from her suitcase, her voice sharp and cool. "This is none of your concern. I think it's time for you to leave." All she desired at that moment was to hasten the man's departure. Barely a moment before, when he had embraced her, his fingers had brushed against her back, lingering just a moment too long. The calluses on his fingertips were coarse, betraying more wear than most. His adeptness with a knife and his swift reflexes hinted at a background that was far from ordinary. Cutting off the thought immediately, Fernanda dismissed any curiosity about his background. From below, the blare of a car horn shattered the silence. The man stood up smoothly. During their earlier intimacy, he had loosened his shirt, though his trousers remained crisply in place. He buttoned his shirt as he approached the window and casually tossed something to Fernanda. "My apologies for any discomfort caused earlier. Consider this your compensation," he said with a nod. With the graceful precision of a panther, he sprang out of the window. Fernanda approached the window, peering out into the night where, under the faint illumination of the streetlights, she observed him scale the wall effortlessly. He navigated the ledges until he merged with the shadows. She stooped to retrieve the object he had left--a sleek black card. The night's disruptions had been met with suitable compensation--a fair recompense. Fernanda pocketed the card and drew the curtains closed. The following morning, the butler approached Fernanda with a look of concern etched across his face. "Miss Morgan, I hope you managed to rest last night. There was an inspection for a burglary, which stirred quite the disturbance." She shrugged casually and muttered, "It was fine." As they drove, the butler stole glances at Fernanda through the rearview mirror. Reclined in her seat, she gazed out the window, her elegant profile cast in contemplative silence. He mused quietly to himself that she did not embody the typical country-raised youth. Her calm sophistication and graceful demeanor set her apart, enhancing her natural charm and making her an effortlessly endearing presence. After two days of travel, Fernanda stepped into the bustling streets of Esaham. The city was a teeming metropolis, alive with vibrant streets and a relentless stream of traffic. Shortly after 8 a.m., a stretch Lincoln limousine glided into the upscale estate of Dawn Villas, coming to a halt in front of a majestic three-story white villa. Stepping gracefully from the limousine, Fernanda let her eyes wander over the grandeur of the building before her. The villa, both opulent and imposing, was a testament to vast wealth. Her lips curled into a faint, almost mocking smile as she gave it a scrutinizing glance. This was her father Robert Morgan's residence. From humble beginnings, he had climbed to wealth and status with her late mother's support. After amassing his fortune, Robert had coldly cast aside her mother, choosing to revel in a relationship with his mistress. That woman--Michelle Morgan--had contributed nothing to his success, yet she now sat smugly in the seat Fernanda's mother had rightfully earned. She basked in the luxuries and respect that were never hers to claim. Worse still, Michelle had dared to flaunt her victory, parading her stolen life before Fernanda's grieving mother, a cruelty that had ultimately led to Fernanda's mother's untimely death. To the world, Michelle was seen as Robert's second wife, a symbol of grace and charm. Michelle even had the audacity to claim she was Fernanda's real mother. But Fernanda knew better. Behind the polished veneer lay the truth, raw and unforgiving. Fernanda's dark eyes momentarily hardened, a flicker of steely determination glinting within them. Her mother was no longer here to seek justice, but Fernanda vowed she would deliver it on her behalf. Just then, the villa's grand door swung open, revealing the pair responsible for the upheaval in her life. Robert stood tall and pristine, the sharp lines of his tailored suit accentuating his stature. His gold-rimmed glasses reflected the warm light, adding an air of calculated sophistication. At his side was Michelle, the very picture of elegance. Her fitted dress clung perfectly to her poised figure, exuding refinement and composure. "Fernanda, you've come back." Robert greeted warmly, a smile playing on his lips as he waved her over. "Come in." Fernanda's eyes darted downward, concealing the storm of emotions swirling within her. With a tentative step, she moved closer. Robert, with an arm encircling Michelle's waist, introduced her with a gesture. "Fernanda, this is your mother." With a casual wave toward the living room, he remarked, "And that's Erika, your sister." On the couch, Erika Morgan was engaged with the television, only looking up when Fernanda approached. Her eyes narrowed judgmentally at Fernanda's plain dress, her face contorting into a sneer. With an exaggerated eye-roll and a sarcastic tone, Erika muttered, "That country bumpkin? Dad, she's no sister of mine." Michelle approached Fernanda with a warm smile, linking her arm with Fernanda's. "Oh, Fernanda, Erika's just teasing. Pay her no mind. I've prepared breakfast for you. You must be starving. Let's have something to eat." Silently, Fernanda slipped her arm free and strode with determined steps into the dining room. Michelle paused, her smile faltering as a shadow of confusion crossed her face. She turned to Robert, her voice tinged with concern. "Robert, what's gotten into her?" He sighed, his voice a blend of empathy and resignation, "Fernanda was raised in the countryside. She's a bit unrefined, that's all. It's nothing against you, Michelle." Michelle nodded slowly, a soft smile reclaiming her features. "No worries," she murmured, her resolve firming. "I'll guide her as she settles in, teach her the essentials of elegance, and shape her into a poised young woman." Robert gave a supportive pat on her back, his expression one of appreciative assurance. In the dining room, Michelle seated herself next to Fernanda. "Fernanda, you must try this beef," she insisted, placing a tender slice onto Fernanda's plate. "It's Erika's favorite." Fernanda responded by promptly lifting the beef from her plate and dropping it into an empty plate with a clear look of disgust. "That's gross," she stated flatly, her voice void of any warmth. Chapter 3 How Could You Lie? The moment those words left Fernanda's lips, the entire table came to a standstill, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief. Erika, her patience fraying, brought her hand down hard on the table and demanded, "Country bumpkin, what are you even saying? My mom was kind enough to offer you this beef, and you have the nerve to be rude about it?" Fernanda met their astonished looks with a mask of feigned innocence. "I was clearly referring to the beef," she said with a deliberate pause. "It's raw and quite frankly, it looks unappetizing. What else could I possibly mean?" "You..." Erika's retort faltered, caught in her throat. Admitting that she thought Fernanda was insulting Michelle was out of the question. With a slow, calculated blink, Fernanda went on, "Unless, perhaps, you think there's something even more gross on this table than the raw beef?" At this, Erika's face registered sheer astonishment, and for a split second, her voice seemed to have deserted her entirely. Not a single word could she muster. It was Michelle who broke the awkward silence, interjecting smoothly, "Fernanda, the dish you're referring to is called beef tartare. It's a renowned delicacy made from top-notch beef and a pasteurized egg, typically found in high-end dining establishments. Perhaps it's something you've not had the opportunity to try before." Her voice subtly implied that Fernanda's simpler past might not have included such refined culinary experiences. Fernanda allowed a mischievous smirk to play at the corners of her lips and replied, "Our ancestors honed an array of sophisticated recipes and techniques. They certainly didn't refine these culinary arts for us to regress to consuming raw meat as if we were lost in the wild." Michelle's expression briefly betrayed a touch of discomfort, yet she managed to sustain a polite smile, nodding her agreement somewhat rigidly. "You bring up a valid point, I'll give you that." "I agree. I'm not fond of beef tartare either," Robert added with a nod, his gaze settling on Fernanda with evident pride. "I've always preferred classic tastes myself. It seems Fernanda has inherited that from me." Fernanda offered a subdued smile, delicately wiping her fork on a napkin after attempting the beef tartare, then resumed eating with a composed demeanor, seemingly unaffected by Erika's glaring resentment. Michelle suddenly ventured a soft query. "Fernanda, which university are you attending these days? Erika is at Luminary University, one of the top schools in the country. What about you?" At this, Erika's face morphed into a self-satisfied grin. Robert's tone grew cooler as he intervened on Fernanda's behalf. "I've spoken to a few contacts back in Fernanda's hometown. Currently, she isn't enrolled in any university." Michelle's eyes went wide, her voice cutting through the silence as she blurted, "What did you just say? Fernanda isn't attending any university? That simply cannot be! What will happen when the Harpers find out? Mrs. Harper had just mentioned a few days ago that they were planning a grand welcome party for Fernanda upon her return. If they learn she's not enrolled anywhere, it could be disastrous." Robert intervened, his tone laced with irritation, cutting through Michelle's rising panic. "Enough. I will take care of Fernanda's education myself." From the corner, Erika couldn't suppress a snicker. Imagining Fernanda managing to sneak into some low-ranked school through connections was downright amusing to her. The Harper family, celebrating the arrival of what Erika considered a rural nobody, was an absurd thought. Fernanda's crude and graceless demeanor would certainly earn their disapproval the moment they saw her. Erika found Bobby Harper quite charming, but his family's insistence on honoring their promise to engage him to Fernanda and pushing Robert to reintegrate Fernanda into their circles seemed ridiculously foolish to her. She was convinced that the Harper family would never develop an affinity for someone as lacking in education as Fernanda. The mood around the table grew tense as they discussed Fernanda's academic prospects. Amidst the awkward silence, Fernanda herself reached for a napkin, dabbing at her lips gracefully. "I have already registered to take the entrance exam for Esaham University," she announced, her voice steady and clear. "Assuming all goes well, I plan to attend there in the near future." Erika was caught off guard and, for a moment, was speechless before she burst into unrestrained laughter. The idea that Esaham University, the most prestigious in the nation where seats were as coveted as gold, would allow Fernanda to take the entrance exam was laughable. Clearly, this was a lie. Robert's demeanor hardened, his eyes narrowing with a frosty glare. He furrowed his brow in disapproval and said sternly, "Fernanda, how could you lie about being granted the opportunity to take the entrance exam for Esaham University? Was lying the only lesson you picked up in your little hometown?" "Honey, calm down," Michelle interjected quickly. "Fernanda was only trying to impress you." Turning to Fernanda with a soft, maternal expression, Michelle remarked in a soothing tone, "There's no shame in skipping college, Fernanda. You don't have to pretend or feel lesser because of it. We're family here, and we don't judge you on such matters." Her words, though gentle, were saturated with disbelief, assuming Fernanda was fabricating her story. Fernanda, without a word of defense, simply pulled out her smartphone. After a few taps, she pushed it across the table towards the center. Everyone leaned in to see the display. Erika's laughter stopped abruptly as she stared at the screen. Displayed prominently was Fernanda's Esaham University entrance exam admission ticket, complete with her photo and name in bold. Snatching the phone, Erika's eyes grew wide as she inspected it repeatedly. Her anger boiling over, she tossed it away and exclaimed, "This can't be real! You edited this, didn't you?" Chapter 4 This Girl Is Something Else "This isn't a photo--it's an online document," Fernanda stated in an even tone, her voice steady and clear. "Notice the Esaham University web address at the top?" Erika was at a loss for words. Her complexion lost its color as silence enveloped her. Entry to Esaham University was notoriously difficult, achievable only through the rigorous standardized exam or by excelling in the university's specialized admission test. This test was reserved for the truly outstanding, drawing candidates from diverse disciplines and making the chance to compete a rare gem. How did Fernanda manage to secure a spot to attend the admission test? Suddenly, Robert's hand was on Fernanda's phone, his eyes scanning the text again and again. Any annoyance he felt quickly dissipated, replaced by bubbling excitement. A rich, joyful laughter escaped him as he declared, "Brilliant, Fernanda! Absolutely brilliant!" The way Fernanda managed to secure such an incredible opportunity didn't concern him. What mattered most to him was the overwhelming pride he felt, knowing she had this chance to take the exam. With a stiff smile and a voice laced with tension, Michelle replied, "Yes, well done." "What's so great about that?" Erika scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. "It's not as if she's actually going to pass." "But it's certainly better than not being qualified to try at all, right?" Fernanda retorted smoothly. Color rushed to Erika's cheeks, her anger palpable. She slammed her fork down, the clatter echoing sharply. "I've had enough!" she declared vehemently, before storming off in a huff. After dinner, Robert and Michelle walked Fernanda to her cozy and thoughtfully prepared room. The room was airy and uncluttered, resonating with Fernanda's love for understated elegance. "Across the hall is your sister's room," Michelle explained, her voice carrying a warm undertone. "Next to yours is your elder brother's. He's often caught up with work commitments and rarely at home. Your younger brother, who's currently at a summer camp overseas, has his room beside Erika's." She continued, a smile softening her features, "If there's anything you need to make your stay more comfortable, please don't hesitate to tell me, dear." Robert watched Michelle with a look of quiet approval. "Thank you," Fernanda murmured, her eyes downcast as she spoke. "I think I'll take a shower now." At that, Robert and Michelle excused themselves, leaving Fernanda to her privacy. As she stepped under the spray, cool water washed over her, drenching her face and lending a luminous sheen to her eyes. They sparkled against the backdrop of water droplets on her lashes, enhancing the serene yet frosty allure of her features. Once out of the shower, Fernanda blow-dried her hair until it was just damp. As Fernanda from the bathroom, she dug through the suitcase and found a photo of Hiram Hammond. The photo was a solemn memorial portrait of Hiram. Though not bound to her by blood, he had nurtured her with unwavering care and affection. To Fernanda, he was her entire world, her only family. That cherished photo, a tribute to his memory, was something she couldn't afford to lose. Gazing at the kind, gentle face in the photo, Fernanda was enveloped by a surge of affection. With gentle hands, she cleaned the photograph and lovingly placed it on a side table in the room. Within the next two days, the villa had welcomed two additional guests--Michelle's nephew and niece. The man exhibited an unseemly l**tfulness, with his gaze persistently fixed on Fernanda whenever he could manage. Meanwhile, the woman had aligned herself with Erika, openly manifesting her contempt and animosity toward Fernanda through both overt and subtle jabs. Disenchanted by their presence, Fernanda chose to distance herself from the villa's stifling atmosphere. As the sun dawdled on the brink of the horizon, the evening air, warm yet prickled with tension, brushed against her. Seeking a brief escape, Fernanda wandered to a convenience store and picked up a can of cold beer. Positioned against a lamppost, she deftly popped open the can single-handedly. The refreshing chill of the beer soothed her throat as she drank. A slight tilt of her head caused the collar of her shirt to shift delicately, exposing the elegant contour of her collarbone. With an air of sophistication, her neck arched gracefully, like someone relishing a glass of champagne in an exclusive bar. Having savored the last drop, Fernanda tossed the can with a casual flick of her wrist, watching it arc smoothly into the bin with a satisfying clink. Not far off, someone hidden in the dim interior of a black sedan watched intently. Bobby, palpably impressed, turned to his companion and remarked with a mix of awe and admiration, "Cristian, this girl is something else!" Chapter 5 Attacked Cristian Reed, who was sprawling in the backseat, remained silent, his eyes firmly shut. "Wow, the girl is stunning! Check out those legs--so beautiful and flawless! Did you see her toss that can, Cristian? She's got skills that could rival yours!" Bobby's incessant babble finally pierced Cristian's reserve. With a sigh, Cristian's eyes fluttered open. Just then, the headlights from an approaching vehicle swept across his face, accentuating its angular contours and highlighting a small mole beneath his eye. Drawing out his words, Cristian replied with a lazy drawl, his voice a deep, soothing rumble laced with a trace of exhaustion, "Aren't you getting engaged soon? Isn't the eldest Morgan daughter meant to be yours?" Bobby visibly flinched at the mention, his expression contorting into one of clear distaste. "She's nothing but a stray who got lost as a child and grew up in some nowhere place. Who's to say she isn't just a goddamn ugly rural bumpkin? My friends probably see me as some unlucky fool. Cristian, you are my cousin. You should not make fun of me like they do!" Cristian merely crossed his arms, extending his long legs and settling back more comfortably without a word. The silence seemed to deepen Bobby's frustration, as if sealing his fate. Yet, as Bobby's eyes landed on the girl's striking figure under the streetlight again, his mood shifted, and a flicker of curiosity lit up his face. With a playful grin, Bobby lowered the window and leaned slightly out, his tone dripping with charm. "Hey there, gorgeous. Can I offer you a ride?" "No, thank you." Her words were crisp and frosty, cutting through the evening like a cold breeze, leaving a chill that touched both men. In the backseat, Cristian's body tensed. His eyes snapped open, his head whipping around toward the sound of the voice. That voice? It unmistakably belonged to the girl he had met in that dimly lit motel. Cristian acted with such swiftness that he seemed to blur the lines between thought and action as he swung the car door open and emerged. Fernanda mistook his approach for a mere flirtatious gesture. Without giving him another thought, she turned away and continued on her path. She had only taken a few steps when she felt a strong, unyielding grip halt her progress. She spun around, coming face-to-face with the man who had stopped her. Towering and strikingly handsome, he possessed an aura of undeniable presence. One hand was nonchalantly placed in his pocket, while the other securely grasped her arm. His piercing gaze locked with hers. "Well, if it isn't you!" Cristian muttered slowly, a hint of recognition in his voice. "Seems like we keep meeting, huh?" Fernanda's eyes flickered with surprise as she realized who he was--the man from that unforgettable night. Given that he was a dangerous fugitive, she wanted to keep her distance from him. Swiftly regaining her composure, she adopted an aloof demeanor. "I'm sorry, sir. You must be mistaken," she replied evenly. "No," Cristian responded, his voice low and steady, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "A debt of gratitude is something I never forget." His remark revealed a depth to his character. For Cristian, repaying a good deed wasn't just a courtesy--it was a principle he lived by. Meanwhile, Bobby had exited the car and now stood a short distance away, his expression one of utter bewilderment. "What's going on?" he inquired. Cristian brushed off Bobby's presence, focusing instead on holding the car door open for Fernanda with a subtle nod. Fernanda stayed rooted in place, her gaze sharp with caution. "What do you mean by that?" "I'd like to take you to dinner. Would you join me?" Cristian urged with a warm, inviting smile. It came across as a question, but Fernanda could discern from the inflection in his voice that he wasn't genuinely offering her an option to decline. Her familiarity with his nature left no room for misunderstanding. Refusing him might only provoke him to force her into the car himself. With a sigh, she gave a subdued nod. "Fine." A faint smile flickered across Cristian's face as he graciously gestured for her to enter, then smoothly took his place behind the wheel. Bobby blinked in shock, his mouth hanging open. "You've got to be kidding me, Cristian. This is incredible!" Cristian had effortlessly ensnared the alluring girl with a mere handful of words, an accomplishment Bobby found profoundly impressive. As Bobby tried the back door, he found it unexpectedly locked. "Cristian?" he inquired, a hint of confusion in his tone. Cristian commanded firmly, "Leave." Frozen in place in the brisk evening air, Bobby watched the sleek black car vanish into the shadows of the night. He was the first to spot the girl! Why had they left him behind? Inside the car, Cristian shattered the lingering silence by firing off a torrent of questions. "Are you from Esaham or Zhota?" "Zhota," she answered softly. "And your name?" "Letty Molina." "How old are you?" "Twenty-five," Fernanda replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Cristian stole a sideways glance at her, his voice laced with skepticism. "Doesn't seem like it." "Reality seldom mirrors our expectations," Fernanda replied, her tone unwavering. "Take your appearance, for instance. In that impeccable suit, you're the perfect picture of a business tycoon. Yet, you're the same fugitive I stumbled upon the other night." Cristian couldn't help but laugh, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You do have a point." Fernanda was finally no longer feigning ignorance about their past encounter. Cristian was relieved. Had she chosen to continue her charade, he had his own methods to have her drop the act. As usual, Esaham's traffic was a snarled mess. Cristian veered onto a less congested side street, hoping to evade the endless sea of cars. Breaking the silence, he suggested, "I know a cozy spot run by a Zhota native--serves excellent food. Let's head there." "Sure," she replied, her tone calm but firm. Just as Fernanda's reply hung in the air, a jarring crash echoed from behind, jolting the car forward. She was thrust back, the seatbelt gnawing into her shoulder. Cristian's gaze darted to the rearview mirror. Suddenly, a van cut sharply across their path, blocking them. On either side, vehicles converged, spilling out men brandishing grim tools, their silhouettes ominous in the dim streetlight. Without hesitation, Cristian reached into the center console, retrieving a kn*fe. "Whatever happens, keep yourself inside the car. Don't even think about stepping out," he instructed firmly, pressing her back into the seat. With a resolute nod, he went on, "I'll take care of them, and afterward, dinner's on me." Cristian wrapped up his conversation, offering Fernanda a fleeting smile that appeared untouched by the surrounding tension. Fernanda folded her arms and settled deeper into her seat, her face a mask of tranquility as she observed Cristian approach the group of armed adversaries. The scene was stark--one man facing off against a throng armed to the teeth. The odds were clearly not in his favor. Yet, as Cristian lifted his foot and dispatched two of the men to the ground with a single, silent kick, Fernanda took note of his precision and power. His technique spoke of extensive training and raw capability. The gang, incited by Cristian's defiance, rushed at him collectively. Sticks sliced through the air, each strike landing with a dense thud that echoed menace. Cristian, however, danced through the tumult with a grace that seemed almost serene. Despite their advantage in numbers, his assailants found themselves floundering to overpower him. One attacker received a blunt punch straight to the face, staggering backward and eventually collapsing against the hood of Cristian's car. As he dabbed at the bl**d dripping from his nose, the man snarled in rage. Catching sight of Fernanda inside the vehicle, a sinister idea sparked within him... ...... 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) &5& | Fragrant Fiction | 62 | https://www.facebook.com/61565957015132/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681532 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/9/25, 8:34 PM | 1738828444 | 1749519253 | 2478 | fb.lovenovelshort.com | Learn more | VIDEO | Read all now👉 | https://fb.lovenovelshort.com/book/loading/page/novelshortnew/051054552235?utm_campaign={{campaign.id}}&utm_content={{campaign.name}} | 4.5569316428998E+14 | Novel Short - Emotional Story | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476077184_1634225630633783_1519151953506806415_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=_wFxzEU3KgUQ7kNvgFC5gdu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYCV8ZtCPq61KZvkuM0y_WKk1LNr5KzFfgHT7WAqL0FOwg&oe=67AA22DD | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | I sat by the bay window of our penthouse suite, gazing at the city skyline under the crescent moon. Tonight marked five years since I bonded with Caleb Darkwood, Alpha of the Crescent Moon Pack and a wealthy werewolf billionaire. It should have been a night of celebration, but unspoken truths weighed heavily on my heart. Caleb had broken another promise. Instead of being with me, he’d gone to a pack council meeting in Zurich, taking Zara—his Beta’s sister and new “executive advisor”—with him. Her presence in his life felt too close for comfort. Her scent, a mix of vanilla and wild jasmine, often clung to his suits, something he refused to explain. When Caleb finally returned from his trip, it felt like an eternity. He stormed into the penthouse, his Armani suit sharp and his golden eyes glowing with restrained power. He brought a sapphire pendant, its blue sparkle as tempting as the promises he never kept. “It symbolizes our eternal bond,” he said, his tone soft as he fastened the necklace around my neck. His fingers lingered, their touch meant to soothe, but I could feel the subtle edge of guilt in his gestures. For a moment, I wanted to believe him, to hold onto the memory of the man I had once loved, the one who fought to win my heart. But as I looked out the window, I saw Zara below in the courtyard, laughing with a group of business associates. Zara wore a moonstone bracelet on her wrist, a symbol of affection and loyalty in werewolf tradition—something Caleb had once promised would be mine alone. I turned back to him, forcing a smile, but the image of Zara lingered in my mind like acid. Her laughter drifted up, carefree and sure, as if she believed she had already won. Days later, I overheard them in one of the pack’s boardrooms. Caleb’s deep, commanding voice carried through the partially closed door, tinged with the casual familiarity that had become my waking nightmare. “You’re overthinking it,” Caleb said, his tone laced with reassurance. “You’re underestimating her,” Zara replied sharply. “She’s not as blind as you think. Amalia knows something’s going on.” “She trusts me,” Caleb replied with a confidence that twisted my stomach. “That’s all that matters.” Their laughter that followed felt like a knife twisting in my gut, sharp and merciless. The breaking point came during a pack charity gala, held in one of Caleb’s luxury skyscrapers. Wolves mingled in their finest attire, sipping champagne and discussing business ventures under the glow of crystal chandeliers. I stood to the side in the emerald gown Caleb had insisted on buying, the sapphire pendant heavy around my neck. Across the room, Zara lingered near Caleb in a crimson gown, her every move calculated. She whispered to him, her hand brushing his arm. Caleb chuckled, his expression familiar. Then his gaze met mine. For a brief moment, guilt flashed in his eyes, but it quickly vanished. Later that night, Caleb tried to make amends. He presented me with a shimmering cloak of custom-spun silk, its fabric glinting like liquid silver. “It reminded me of you,” he said, draping it over my shoulders with practiced tenderness. I forced a smile, but inside, resentment boiled like a storm waiting to break. These gestures were nothing more than distractions, illusions meant to blind me to the truth. Caleb’s attentiveness grew suffocating after that. He began scheduling meetings around my availability, brought me roses imported from Italy, and lavished me with promises of private trips to exotic locations. But his efforts only deepened my resolve. One afternoon, I sought solace in the pack’s rooftop garden, high above the city streets. Instead, I found Zara standing by a fountain, her phone in hand. She glanced up, her blue eyes narrowing as I approached. “Luna,” she greeted with a syrupy smile. “Out for some fresh air? Caleb and I were just finalizing the expansion plans for our Singapore office. He’s quite the visionary, isn’t he?” Her words were deliberate, meant to provoke me. I didn’t bite. “Is that so?” I replied calmly. My gaze dropped to the delicate chain around her neck—a gold locket I had seen at Caleb’s office days ago. She smirked, sensing my gaze, and for a moment, her mask slipped. Beneath her polished exterior, she was a woman who took pleasure in my discomfort, seeing me not as Luna but as an obstacle. When the full moon arrived, Caleb spared no expense. The great hall of the skyscraper was turned into a glittering ballroom, filled with wolves and influential allies. “To more years of love and loyalty,” Caleb declared, presenting me with a ruby pendant said to be carved from the heart of a fallen star. He fastened the chain around my neck, the crowd erupting in applause. I smiled as Caleb kissed my cheek, but my fingers gripped the gemstone tightly. In the shadows, I saw Zara watching, her jealousy barely hidden. They thought I was weak. That I’d stay silent. They were wrong. The next morning, I stood in the migration office, a sleek, modern space tucked away from the pack’s primary headquarters. “Ms. Amelia Wren, your allegiance to the Crescent Moon Pack has been officially renounced,” the clerk said, stamping the final document. “Shall I process your Luna bond dissolution?” “Yes,” I replied, my voice steady. “This is irreversible,” she warned. “Once the bond is broken, your mate will no longer sense or track you.” “That’s precisely what I want.” I smiled at her and slid an envelope of cash across the counter. “And that ensures confidentiality.” The ruby pendant weighed heavily around my neck as I left, its sparkle a cruel reminder of the life I was leaving behind. In the town square, a massive screen displayed Caleb’s latest press conference: “Alpha Caleb Darkwood Secures Legendary Ruby for His Luna.” Fascinating, right? The crowd murmured about how perfect we were. Perfect? They had no idea. Chapter 02 The unraveling began one night. I had come home late from a high-profile meeting with the board of Crescent Moon Enterprises, the sprawling tech and real estate empire Caleb ran as Alpha of the Crescent Moon Pack. The weight of the business dealings and the constant pressure of being his Luna and his corporate partner had me exhausted. Caleb was asleep in our penthouse, his muscular frame sprawled across the silk sheets of our massive bed. The soft glow of city lights filtered through the windows, casting shadows on his peaceful face. At first, everything seemed normal. But then I saw it. A photo. I grabbed it. Stared at something obvious in the image. The brunette strand of hair resting on Caleb’s chest—it wasn’t mine. I froze, my breath catching, my heart skipping a beat. I clenched my fists, the photo burning in my hand. But I couldn’t react just yet. I approached the bed slowly, my pulse racing, forcing myself to stay calm. I already knew the answer—I just needed confirmation. "Who is she, Caleb?" I asked, my voice steady, betraying none of the fury building inside me. Caleb blinked awake, confusion flickering across his face before it shifted to an easy calm, his usual corporate mask slipping into place. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, his golden eyes glinting with that familiar controlled power. "Lia, don’t start. You know my loyalty is to you and the pack." I held up the photo. "Explain this." He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair, his expression adopting that all-too-familiar calm. "It’s not what you think. Zara stayed late to go over some financial reports and property acquisitions for the pack. She must have—" "Must have what?" I cut him off, my voice rising, the tension thickening the air. "Accidentally left a piece of herself in our bed?" His jaw tightened, the calm slipping for just a second. "You don’t understand the pressure of being Alpha, Amalia. The pack needs unity, and Zara is essential to keeping everything running smoothly. She’s been handling the business side of things so I can focus on the pack." I didn’t say anything. His words felt like a cheap excuse. A lie. That night, as Caleb slept beside me, I sat up, holding the photo in my hands. I reached for the pen and paper in the drawer and wrote a goodbye letter—though I wasn’t ready to use it yet. Something inside me had shifted. The trust I once had in Caleb was gone, and I wasn’t sure it could be repaired. A week later, Caleb hosted a lavish event in the pack’s penthouse at Crescent Moon Tower. The gala was filled with wolves in business suits, influential allies, and powerful werewolves from around the world. Caleb stood at the center of the room in a tailored Armani suit, exuding power as both a businessman and Alpha. He presented me with another ruby necklace, its red gem gleaming in the light. He kissed my cheek as he fastened it around my neck. "Forgive me," he murmured, but there was no real remorse in his voice. The crowd cheered, but I barely noticed. Across the room, Zara stood in a tight emerald dress, her eyes fixed on me, filled with barely hidden jealousy. She didn’t just want Caleb—she wanted my place, my title, my life as Luna. Zara’s true nature was starting to show, not just to me but to everyone around her. She wasn’t content being Caleb’s business partner or his trusted executive advisor. She wanted everything. And Caleb... Caleb was blind to it, or perhaps, he didn’t care enough to notice. The cracks deepened after that night. At a council meeting, I proposed an alliance with the Bloodstone Pack, a rival group in the tech sector. The deal would give us a foothold in their territory and secure more contracts. But as soon as I presented the proposal, Zara quickly undermined me. “I’m sure Luna Amalia means well,” Zara said sweetly, her voice sugar-coated. “But wouldn’t it be a bit too risky for Crescent Moon Enterprises to tie itself with Bloodstone right now?” She didn’t even look at me as she spoke, her tone laced with a passive-aggressive edge. Caleb didn’t even bother to defend me. He simply stayed silent, his eyes unreadable, his face expressionless. The silence was worse than anything she could’ve said. At a corporate harvest festival hosted by the pack’s elite, Zara found another way to dig her claws into me. She brought me honey cakes—my favorite treat, the one Caleb had once promised never to let anyone else offer me to ensure the ingredients will be safe for me for I have an allergy. “Caleb told me how much you love them,” she said with a fake innocence, holding the plate out to me with a sweet smile. I managed to force a polite smile. "Thank you, Zara. This is so sweet of you." Later that evening, I overheard her talking to Tyrian, one of the pack’s scouts, in hushed tones. "She doesn’t deserve him," Zara hissed. "She’s weak. A rogue pretending to be Luna." I felt the sting of her words like a slap to my face. She wasn’t wrong. I had once been an outsider. But Caleb fought for me to be part of his pack. That night, I retreated to my hidden sanctuary beneath the penthouse, a space I had created for myself, away from Caleb. Here, I kept my escape plans—plans I wasn’t ready to act on yet but knew I would need. I stared at the newest ruby necklace Caleb had given me. Its weight felt suffocating, a symbol of everything wrong in my life. Chapter 03 Caleb insisted on another dinner celebration for our anniversary. He’d been busy with work all week, managing his empire that he had built from the ground up. I wasn’t sure if he genuinely wanted to celebrate us or if it was just another way to keep up appearances, but I went along with it anyway. Even disregarding what I saw and heard from Zara earlier. At the office, Zara intentionally flaunted to her office mates her new diamond ring given to her by rich boyfriend when she saw me stepping out of Caleb’s office. Rich boyfriend, huh?! Tsk. I sourly looked at Caleb. How could he calmly cheat on me and continue acting so loving and caring? What an actor! We were halfway to the restaurant when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, and his jaw tightened. “An urgent issue at the company,” he said, his voice clipped. “I’ll drop you off and join you later.” I smiled, the kind of smile I had perfected over the years. "Sure, no problem." But something inside me didn’t buy it. Something about the way he said it, the quick glance at the phone—something wasn’t right. It’s Zara. Obviously. As the car veered toward the company’s building instead of the restaurant, I caught a faint but familiar scent in the air. Zara. Again. Her vanilla and wild jasmine scent lingered in the car, as though she had just been there. I pushed the thought away. The more I think of Zara, the more she pisses me off. That night, I waited for Caleb in the sitting room. It was well past midnight when he finally walked in, surprised to see me still awake. His eyes widened when he saw the small box in my hands. "Recognize this?" I asked, my voice steady despite the tightness in my chest. He froze, taking in the mementos inside: movie tickets, a dried lavender sprig, and a photo from our first run together under the full moon. Old memories, moments that once felt real. His expression softened as he reached for the box. "I’ll fix us, Lia," he whispered, almost pleading. "I swear." I handed him a sealed envelope. "Open this on the next full moon. It’s my gift to you," I said, unsure if I meant it. He took the envelope, looking confused, but didn’t question me. He gave me a half-smile and left without another word. The days leading up to the full moon were a blur. I couldn’t focus on anything except the growing tension between Caleb and me. Something had shifted in him, but I couldn’t pinpoint what. The business was clearly becoming more important to him, and I saw it in his face, his distance, and especially in how often he spent time with Zara. I went to see Astrid, the pack’s doctor, and my closest confidant. She was one of the few people I trusted completely. We met in her small, cozy apartment. “Are you sure of your plans?” Astrid asked me. She knew my plan to cut my ties with Caleb and the pack. “Zara’s ambitious. She’s dangerous, Lia. She won’t stop until she’s sitting in your seat. You need to stay sharp." “There was hesitation, yes. A small part of me questioned if I was making the right decision. But the larger part—” I stared at Astrid, “the part that had been watching Caleb and Zara for weeks now, the way they exchanged glances, the way his eyes softened when she spoke… I was done with waiting and playing a good Luna, Astrid. I wasn’t about to let this continue. If this was the path I was going to take, I wasn’t going to lose.” Later that afternoon, I took matters into my own hands. The marketplace was as busy as ever, and I made sure my words reached the right ears. I wasn’t subtle. I spread rumors about Zara’s growing influence and her plan to replace me. By the time I left, I knew the whispers had already started. I had time, but not much. Soon, everyone would know the truth: Zara was trying to take everything from me. Caleb, however, seemed oblivious—or maybe he didn’t care. I had no more time to waste. That evening, I decided to clear my mind with a walk through the estate grounds. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, the rustling leaves matching the swirl of thoughts racing through my mind. I didn’t want to admit, but the weight of everything—Caleb’s betrayal, Zara’s scheming, the entire pack watching my every move—was overwhelming. I had to make a decision, but I needed clarity. Time to stop being reactive and take control. As I walked into the park, I heard footsteps—quiet, almost too quiet. My wolf, Bella, instantly alerted, my heart rate spiking. I wasn’t alone. From the shadows, a tall figure emerged, his amber eyes glowing under the moonlight. He wasn’t from the pack, I could tell. His presence was strong and calm, unlike anyone I’d met. He didn’t seem to have an agenda, but there was something magnetic about him, like he was exactly what I needed right now. "You look like someone about to take down a kingdom," he said, his voice low and oddly familiar. I raised an eyebrow. "And what if I am?" A slow, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Then you’re not alone." “It’s not a kingdom,” I smiled bitterly. “An empire.” “I think you might want my help…” He grinned. “For what cost?” “Just promise you will leave Caleb…” I frowned. Not that I care anymore for Caleb, but why did he want that? “Who are you?” I asked. He grinned again. “Your knight.” “I don't need a knight.” I turned my back on him. I walked away and went straight to my husband’s tower. My husband’s tower, indeed, for I will soon leave him and all he possesses before the next full moon. Chapter 04 I sneered the moment Caleb turned around for he needed to leave early for another “urgent meeting.” I sipped my coffee, the bitterness grounding me as I mentally replayed Zara’s smug words. “She’s not as blind as you think.” Zara’s voice dripped with confidence when she stated that. The nerve of her! I squinted my eyes and sighed to calm myself. She was right—I wasn’t blind. But I had allowed myself to be silent. She could continue rejoicing but it will be no longer. I had spent the last few days quietly observing, piecing together the clues they so carelessly left behind. Caleb was growing bolder in his deceit, and Zara was more than happy to flaunt her supposed victory. But I wasn’t ready to lose—not yet. The next step of my plan was the corporate stronghold. The air inside Crescent Moon Tower buzzed with efficiency, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with expensive cologne. Zara was perched behind Caleb’s desk, her manicured fingers tapping at a keyboard. “Luna,” Zara said, her tone a mix of mockery and forced politeness. “To what do we owe the pleasure?” I ignored her. I gazed over the office, wandering. Caleb’s chair was angled slightly toward hers, their closeness unmistakable. On the desk was a gold locket—one I had seen Caleb gave her at a gala. “I just wanted to check on the expansion plans for the Bloodstone territory,” I replied, keeping my voice even. Calm. Her lips curled into a smirk. “Oh, those? Caleb and I discussed them last night. He agrees with me—it's too risky to proceed right now. But of course, we value your input.” The barb was subtle but clear. She wanted me to feel irrelevant, powerless. I refused to take the bait. I smiled so sweetly that she could get diabetes. “Good,” I said. “Because I’ll be presenting an updated proposal to the council next week. After all, Caleb does value unity within the pack, right?” Her smirk faltered for a fraction of a second before she recovered. “Of… of course,” she said smoothly after almost stuttering, her gaze sharpening. Satisfied seeing how I’d left her uneasy with just like that, I turned and walked out. As I stepped into the elevator, my fingers itched to crush the phone in my hand. Instead, I pulled up a number to call. Ethan—the one I had met at the park nights ago. I had no idea actually why Ethan looked for me. He said he wanted to help. Even though I was curious about his reasons, still it’s unnecessary to ask. His offer was all I needed. For now. Ethan answered on the second ring, his voice calm and steady. “Amalia.” “I’m ready to talk,” I hushed. Ethan chuckled. I wanna drop the call because he didn't sound serious at all. Then, he informed me where and when we will talk personally. He ended the call and I was left staring at his number on my phone’s screen. I sighed and went to the penthouse. That evening, I met Ethan in a secluded corner of the rooftop garden. The city lights glittered below, the air thick with the scent of pine and damp earth. He leaned casually against the railing, his amber eyes reflecting the moonlight. “So,” he began, his tone teasing, “ready to take down the empire now?” I folded my arms, meeting his gaze head-on. “Not yet. But I’ll need your help when I start.” His grin widened, and for a moment, I forgot why I had been so wary of him. Ethan exuded a confidence that was magnetic, reassuring even. “Smart move,” he said. “But if you want my help, you need to know something first.” I raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that?” He stepped closer, the air between us changed. “Caleb isn’t just cheating on you with Zara. He’s been funneling pack funds into secret accounts—accounts tied to Zara’s name.” The words hit me like a blow, but I didn’t let my expression falter. “How… How do you know this?” Ethan snickered. “Let’s just say I have my sources. And I have proof, if…” he trailed off and stared at my eyes, “if only you’re interested.” I hesitated. I gulped. The weight of his words sinking in. Ethan wasn’t just offering me a lifeline; he was offering me a weapon. I gazed at him. Searching for something I didn't actually need to look for. I blinked and stepped back from him. “Send me the proof,” I said finally, my voice steady. “And don’t think for a second that I trust you.” His laughter was low and rich, like the rumble of thunder. “Fair enough. But trust me when I say this—Caleb’s downfall will be your salvation, Lia.” I nodded. I’m out of words looking at him. Must I trust him? ‘Yes!’ Bella excitedly answered. “Are you with me or not?” Ethan asked with another grin on his lips. I nodded slowly. “I wanna hear confirmation, Lia.” “Me being here is already a confirmation, Ethan.” “It’s just yes or no, Lia. Are you with me or not?” I pursed my lips. “Yes, I am…” “You are?” “With you…” I didn’t know why it’s hard for me to say that. Not because I care much for still being married to Caleb. It's just that I felt there was another deep meaning of it as I say it. “With me.” Ethan smiled widely at me. “Why do I feel you are sounding nervous?” “Enough with your teasing tone, Mr—” I was lost. I had no idea of his last name. Much as I wanted formality, I can’t go through it because I only know his first name. “Ethan Wolfhart.” He smiled. “Mr. Wolfhart then.” I squinted my eyes. “And I meant it, please stop your teasing tone. I’m not used to it and—” I ended what I was saying. I sighed. “And?” “I’m not here making friends with you…” I stated. “I hope you get what I mean.” “I told you to fix it!” Caleb barked. He was pacing the living room with his phone pressed to his ear. “I don’t care how it happens—just make sure it’s handled before the council meeting!” He spotted me hovering at the edge of the room and, like magic, the rage vanished. His face smoothed into something softer, a mask that I’d once believed was real. “Morning, Lia,” he said with a warm tone. He moved toward me, his smile so polished. “Did I wake you?” “No,” I lied, watching him closely. “Everything okay?” “Just pack matters,” he replied with a dismissive wave. “Nothing you need to worry about.” He leaned in to kiss my cheek, and I let him. His lips brushed my skin, but the gesture was empty, hollow. A habit, not a connection. As he disappeared into his office, I retreated back to the master’s bedroom. My phone was still on the desk where I’d left it. Ethan’s message from stared back at me. ETHAN: Check your email. My heart thudded as I opened the email. The attachments loaded one by one: bank transfers, encrypted messages, photographs of Caleb and Zara in shadowy corners of Crescent Moon Tower. My hands trembled as I scrolled through the damning evidence. Ethan hadn’t been exaggerating. This wasn’t just betrayal—it was calculated, ruthless. The final attachment was a video, dated last week. I hit play, and the air seemed to drain from the room. Caleb and Zara were in a private boardroom. Zara leaned casually against the table, her smirk sharp enough to cut. “She’ll figure it out eventually,” Zara said, her tone half-warning, half-mocking. “You can’t hide everything forever. You should divorce her and make me—” “I love her.” Caleb leaned back, smirking. “And Amalia doesn’t need to know. As long as she loves me, we’re fine.” Zara raised an eyebrow. “And when she realizes about us?” | Novel Short - Emotional Story | 4816 | https://www.facebook.com/61567072857011/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681578 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 4/28/25, 5:43 AM | 1738828445 | 1745837031 | 2478 | arialief.digital | Learn More | DCO | Yellow Vitamin Simplified | A balanced approach designed for daily comfort. | https://www.arialief.digital/ | 5.3309933322672E+14 | Pietra De Souza | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476236526_602730209388703_6133086950474658256_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=isRflpmuimgQ7kNvgGq3cSK&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYDMONcnKq92tNNVasgGtQ12c5oQK0pSYwRaIQKDJojdLA&oe=67AA3EAA | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | With a carefully developed composition, the yellow vitamin is part of a simple and balanced daily care. | Pietra De Souza | 2 | https://www.facebook.com/61572313935891/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| 2681513 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/3/25, 8:47 AM | 1738828444 | 1748958441 | 2478 | fb.me | Learn More | DCO | $97 New Patient Exam Special! | Limited Spots! | http://fb.me/ | 1.0435438298556E+14 | Health First Chiropractic & Wellness | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476469359_969352778498887_3458710393200580695_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=a7dZFrbCQb8Q7kNvgGDH10p&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=AI2MUU60gqCj3U6bB0wLlfp&oh=00_AYDovmbsDDZP3zMArRyq5ml2Ercx80P_DJFmBcD14YJPeg&oe=67AA43D5 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 🌟 Attention Virginia Residents! 🌟 🤕 Are you tired of dealing with chronic back pain, disc bulges, herniations, neck pain, or numbness? We know how frustrating it is to hear, "You just have to live with it." 👋 Hi, I’m Dr. Cherine Reid from Health First Chiropractic & Wellness, and I want to share an amazing solution: ✨ Non-Surgical Spinal Decompression ✨ This revolutionary therapy works to gently reposition bulging or herniated discs, delivering lasting relief and encouraging natural healing. 💪 We’ve helped thousands of patients find relief from: ✅ Chronic Low Back Pain ✅ Sciatica ✅ Herniated Discs ✅ Numbness & Tingling ✅ Postural Problems 🎉 Grab Our $97 New Patient Exam (a $397 value)! Here’s what you’ll get: 🩺 Comprehensive New Patient Exam 🧠 Neurological Scan & Spinal Images 📋 Customized Care Plan 🛏️ FREE Memory Foam Pillow (a $69 value!) ⏳ Act Now! Limited spots and memory foam pillows available! 📍 Find Us: 120 Eastshore Drive, Suite 120, Glen Allen, VA, 23059 📞 Call: 804-270-6010 👉 Click Below to Schedule Your Appointment Today! Let us help you get back to living pain-free! 🙌 | Health First Chiropractic & Wellness | 1502 | https://www.facebook.com/hfcwellness/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681501 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/3/25, 8:54 AM | 1738828444 | 1748958888 | 2478 | fb.me | Learn More | DCO | $97 New Patient Exam Special! | Limited Spots! | http://fb.me/ | 1.0435438298556E+14 | Health First Chiropractic & Wellness | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476160261_1282382126179213_2225673587930112778_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=271wvwSyPzQQ7kNvgGB4PI0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=AI2MUU60gqCj3U6bB0wLlfp&oh=00_AYAOULrTef-N9xzLmEjlqOqVIlbQKEK8e0asI4Ban_oTBg&oe=67AA3179 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Our New Location is Open to Welcome New Patients, and for just $97, you can receive a FREE Pillow! The total value of this new patient offer is $397.00, but today, you get all of this for only $97. (Save $300!) This is an excellent opportunity for anyone seeking care for the mentioned conditions or aiming to enhance their overall health. We're extending this promotion to the first 12 individuals this month on a first-request basis, so act fast! | Health First Chiropractic & Wellness | 1502 | https://www.facebook.com/hfcwellness/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681502 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/10/25, 5:50 AM | 1738828444 | 1749552645 | 2478 | go.hfcwellness.com | Learn More | DCO | $97 New Patient Exam Special! | Limited Spots! | https://go.hfcwellness.com/97-new-patient-special-offer | 1.0435438298556E+14 | Health First Chiropractic & Wellness | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476075676_1156804809502724_7157443055146152551_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=_8FIkRibb3kQ7kNvgHk54QJ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=AI2MUU60gqCj3U6bB0wLlfp&oh=00_AYAxZAA4rJHZdSVz2ijePz_TtyZhrCoRewHEEv-FKiAAFg&oe=67AA49E9 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 👨⚕️ Talk to a Doctor—FREE 15-Minute Consultation! 🎁 Plus, Get a Free Memory Foam Pillow After Your New Patient Exam! Struggling with back pain or discomfort? We’re here to help! Schedule a FREE 15-minute call with one of our expert doctors to discuss your symptoms, explore options, and get tailored recommendations—all at no cost to you. 💡 Why Choose Us? 🏆 Voted BEST Chiropractic Practice in Richmond 2024! ✅ Trusted care from experienced professionals. ✅ Personalized recommendations for relief and correction. ✅ Access to advanced, non-invasive spinal care techniques. 🎉 Bonus Offer for New Patients: After your comprehensive New Patient Exam, you’ll receive a FREE Memory Foam Pillow (a $69 value!) designed to support your spinal health and comfort. | Health First Chiropractic & Wellness | 1502 | https://www.facebook.com/hfcwellness/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681541 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/11/25, 7:08 PM | 1738828445 | 1749686882 | 2478 | instagram.com | Visit Instagram Profile | CAROUSEL | http://instagram.com/bobbinorg | 5.8304007154961E+14 | bobbinorg | https://scontent.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-19/475340310_965945565470381_6850355275952298701_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s206x206_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=525117&_nc_ohc=b0pGNyZgBYsQ7kNvgG_Hde6&_nc_zt=24&_nc_ht=scontent.cdninstagram.com&oh=00_AYABHIjsQnNqkANni-u39eXf_q8Z9OzDDN21pssdcJb8FA&oe=67AA2EBC | IG_ADS_IDENTITY | 1 | 0 | bobbinorg | 0 | https://www.instagram.com/_u/bobbinorg | 0 | VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681530 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/10/25, 11:08 AM | 1738828444 | 1749571704 | 2478 | lc.newtrandinghit.com | Learn more | VIDEO | Tap to learn more | https://lc.newtrandinghit.com/6787f5d29cab447e739a7af4?sub1={{ad.id}}&sub2={{adset.id}}&sub3={{campaign.id}}&sub4={{ad.name}}&sub5={{adset.name}}&sub6={{campaign.name}}&sub7={{placement}}&sub8={{site_source_name}}&utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=paid | 5.3701560616203E+14 | Jane Believeau | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476376803_939309715007957_6544511371516158679_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=fxUZ55E0fWUQ7kNvgEFCOKx&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=AI2MUU60gqCj3U6bB0wLlfp&oh=00_AYBH88tqtSL8Dtg6HZqBVyAbVELZhc33kZSPMDugwCnCkg&oe=67AA314B | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Why do some people hit 50 without discomfort while others struggle with Neuropathy problems? | Jane Believeau | 23 | https://www.facebook.com/61571844741933/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681481 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/5/25, 2:20 AM | 1738828443 | 1749108016 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | IMAGE | Read next chapter | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65237322-fb_contact-enj94_2-1207-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=157725&accid=304554039400649&exdata=1900C7F110003453D2345DDF7AAA18A69D6AADAAEE1E5F59 | 3.7558525564194E+14 | Fun Novels | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475956059_1179697950407749_2185391711160178659_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=UK7817NEvpAQ7kNvgF3KfbX&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYAPR3HyWMTSRWYMBLogEO8yih1PipVWPji1CIzmNaUF8g&oe=67AA4E99 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | The family was happy that the real daughter had returned. As she prepared to leave, the real daughter accused her of copying her designs. Everyone expected her to be humiliated, but unexpectedly, she stunned everyone by revealing her ownership of billion-dollar design patents, striking back and turning the tables. ===== "Take this for your journey. You're set on returning to your original family, and I won't hold you back. It is just that the place you're headed is impoverished and I doubt anyone will even be there to greet you..." Liam Gill, whom Harlee Sanderson had addressed as dad for years, pressed a few hundred-dollar bills into her hand. Downstairs at the Gill family villa, a spirited celebration filled the hall, while upstairs, Harlee quietly folded her clothes into her suitcase. Liam sighed. Just three days earlier, Adelina Gill had shown up holding a DNA report, proving she was his biological daughter. The revelation had sent the entire Gill family into turmoil. Follow-up tests had confirmed that Harlee, the girl who'd been part of their family for years, was not related to them by bl**d. Now that Adelina had returned, the Gills poured all their affection on her, making up for lost time. They treated her like a treasure, eager to erase the suffering she'd endured over the years. Meanwhile, Harlee's last name had been changed that very night. Liam quickly dispatched people to the countryside to locate her real parents. So far, there had been no replies. Today was all about Adelina. The festivities focused on welcoming her as the genuine daughter of the Gill family. "You have such soft skin, and these clothes have been selected with care..." Liam said softly, feeling mixed emotions as he helped Harlee sort through her wardrobe. "You should take these outfits. They're high quality. But when you go back to the countryside, I suppose..." According to the hospital, Harlee's biological parents had visited Adenarora when she was born. They left the next day and returned to their small village. To make matters worse, her parents lived in Osemery's notorious slums, a place infamous for its poverty and crime, where people were often unfriendly and violence was common. Liam surmised Harlee's future there didn't look bright. She wouldn't just lose the luxury she was used to. It seemed, soon enough, she'd be given in marriage to some country bumpkin without any say in the matter. Harlee looked at the cash Liam had pressed into her hand with a blank face. She set the money down on the bedside table. "I'm heading out now." After saying this, Harlee grabbed her suitcase and walked past the people loitering in the hallway. She moved on without glancing back. Averie Gill, Liam's wife, frowned with disdain. "What's with that attitude? Is she upset because it's not enough money for her? For God's sake, we've spent so much on her over the years, especially those beautiful, pricey clothes! How dare she act this way now? Humph! Once she walks out that door, the future ahead of her is nothing but dismal." "Mom, please don't take Harlee's attitude personally. It's only normal for her to be upset about losing her comfortable life abruptly. She's just throwing a little fit. There's no need to be mad at her," Adelina said softly, her tone filled with feigned concern. Adelina knew a bit about Harlee's background after the investigation. Harlee's biological parents were the poorest in the village with their family grave being defaced yet lacking money to fix it. Worse, Harlee's biological parents had five hungry sons, with a sick mother and a disabled father to care for. Harlee wasn't just returning to a rundown area. It was more like a nightmare. Adelina smiled gently, masking her glee. "I'll go say goodbye to Harlee." Once Harlee was out of sight, Liam let out a sigh and turned to Averie. "We raised her. She's leaving everything she's ever known. Don't be too harsh on her." "Harsh? Come on!" Averie shot back. "Her worthless parents might have switched babies on purpose to make our precious daughter suffer. Just thinking about it makes my blood boil. How could I possibly feel sorry for Harlee?" Harlee took the side exit, trying to steer clear of the banquet hall altogether. Adelina caught up with her, wearing a sugary smile. "Harlee, I really need to apologize about my thing with Collin. I know you were supposed to marry him, but he just fell head over heels for me." It felt less like an apology and more like a brag. Collin George came from a powerful family that matched the Gills. He had been engaged to Harlee, but now, with everything that had happened, the future bride had changed. "Collin has always been so sweet and caring. Honestly, I hate to flaunt our love in front of you, but he can't help it. Harlee, I hope this hasn't upset you too much," Adelina said, feigning concern. Harlee raised her eyebrows, wearing an indifferent smile. "Watching two f*ols date is hilarious. Why would I be upset?" Chapter 2 The Kind Real Daughter And The Vicious Fake One "Harlee!" Adelina shouted, her face bright red with anger. Harlee had just insulted her and Collin. Such audacity! Harlee's grin widened. "You and Collin are just perfect together. One kicks people when they're down, and the other follows the money." Adelina had just returned to the Gill family for only three days, and Collin appeared to be already smitten. Harlee found it all hilarious. Just as Adelina was about to lose her temper and hurl insults at Harlee, she noticed Averie coming down the stairs. In an instant, Adelina pressed her lips together, tears threatening to spill from her eyes as she adopted a pitiful expression. She quickly wiped away her fake tears. Averie took in the scene, her anger boiling over. She hurried over and yelled, "Harlee, it's unsurprising that your biological parents are impoverished rustic individuals. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Your lack of manners is quite apparent! You couldn't leave without taking one last jab at Adelina? Should I just throw you out?" "No manners? Maybe it's because that's the way you raised me," Harlee shot back, her smile dripping with sarcasm. Harlee had never met her real parents. When Averie claimed that Harlee lacked manners after so many years of living with the Gills, she was actually insulting the Gill family. Averie had never seen Harlee so sharp-tongued before. She pressed her hand to her chest, as if she might faint from anger. Adelina's eyes turned red, her face showing feigned concern. "Harlee, I understand you're upset. Though you are no longer part of the Gill family, I found you a job in the countryside. If you work hard, you can support yourself." Adelina held up a recommendation letter, which Harlee glanced at. It was for a cleaning job at a motel in a small town. Adelina attempted to place the letter in Harlee's hands but accidentally knocked Harlee's bag to the floor, sending a small sketchbook tumbling out. The guests in the banquet hall spotted it, their eyes growing wide with disbelief. Everyone knew Adelina had recently been celebrated as a genius in fashion design. She always carried her sketchbook with her. Soon, she would become the creative director at the Gill family's fashion company. Adelina's face twisted in mock shock as she covered her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes. "Harlee, why do you have my sketchbook in your bag?" Harlee frowned, feeling annoyed. Once again, Adelina had set her up. "How could you steal Adelina's design sketches?" Averie's expression darkened, and she raised her voice at Harlee. "You cold-hearted thief! Were you trying to rob Adelina of her future? With those designs, you could get into any fashion company! You really have some nerve. You're just a thankless snake!" At the commotion, Liam frowned and walked over. "What's going on here?" Adelina's eyes filled with tears. "Mom, dad, please don't hold it against Harlee. She must have been reluctant to leave the Gill family and therefore did something desperate. It's fine. I can always come up with new designs." "Those designs are essential for you to take over as director! Our family depends on them, too! Harlee stealing them isn't just hurting you. She's putting our whole family at risk. She's just heartless. Stop trying to defend her!" Averie snapped, her voice dripping with anger. "Mom, I'm sure Harlee didn't mean to do it..." Adelina tugged at Averie's sleeve, her voice sounding calm and compassionate. Adelina then turned to Harlee. "Harlee, I know you're afraid of having nothing once you leave the Gill family, but I can't let you keep these sketches. Yet, I will help you get a job at a clothing factory in your hometown. Please work hard and no more thieving. Just stop these sneaky tricks, okay?" The bystanders couldn't help but watch the scene unfold, each of them praising Adelina. "Adelina is simply amazing. She's not only gifted in design but also incredibly magnanimous. She's a true Gill all the way." "What's the use of stealing Adelina's sketches? Does Harlee even know how to design? She's just trying to grab what doesn't belong to her. How could she stoop to this low?" "Everyone knows how much Adelina values her designs. Even with her future at stake, she still defends Harlee. Adelina is way too kind, while Harlee is just vicious!" Amid the guests' praises, Adelina raised her head, looking gentle and virtuous. "After all, Harlee was once part of the Gill family. If I can help her, I will." The guests kept on voicing their thoughts, their opinions of Harlee sinking while their admiration for Adelina grew. They noted that while Adelina might not have been as stunning, her heart was far kinder than Harlee's. Harlee's eyes swept over the guests surrounding her. Most of them appeared to watch the situation unfold with interest, more eager to voice their opinions than uncover the truth. Eventually, Harlee's gaze landed on Adelina, who donned a smug face. Harlee had actually gone through this particular sketchbook. On Adelina's very first day back home, she had taken it out during dinner, sketching dramatically in front of everyone, eager to show off her talent for fashion design. Not satisfied yet, Adelina aimed to boost her own reputation as a design genius by misleading the guests into believing Harlee had stolen her sketchbook. Harlee scoffed. Did Adelina really not see who she was imitating, or was she just that foolish? Adelina's sketchbook held over two hundred designs, but the funniest thing was that the fifty best ones were outright copies of the latest collections from top brands. Adelina had taken beautiful, high-end designs and twisted them into complicated, tasteless mixtures, robbing them of their original grace and simplicity. Instead of couture, it resembled homework wrapped up in haste from some design major students. Worse, Harlee even spotted some of her own designs that she had previously shared online. Clearly, Adelina had been living in a fantasy for so long that she might have started to believe herself to be a design genius. Harlee's lips curled into a sarcastic smile, and her intense gaze locked onto Adelina, seeing through her antics. At Harlee's charming smile, an unshakeable feeling of unease washed over Adelina. ...... How will Harlee fight back? Can Harlee successfully find her biological parents? 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) &4& | Fun Novels | 2477 | https://www.facebook.com/61563251196448/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681535 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/10/25, 11:56 AM | 1738828444 | 1749574592 | 2478 | instagram.com | Visit Instagram Profile | CAROUSEL | http://instagram.com/anabelri0s | 1.0122041632986E+14 | anabelri0s | https://scontent.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-19/461441756_1252058049136750_7762064069043679594_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s206x206_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=525117&_nc_ohc=Z4sJwCBE6K8Q7kNvgFGgN3C&_nc_zt=24&_nc_ht=scontent.cdninstagram.com&oh=00_AYABhRXH3-s7C7Ks6lkFughVsnH1fymf9RSFXpv1R5u8aw&oe=67AA2783 | IG_ADS_IDENTITY | 1 | 0 | anabelri0s | 0 | https://www.instagram.com/_u/anabelri0s | 0 | VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681515 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 4/28/25, 3:17 PM | 1738828444 | 1745871431 | 2478 | website.metronovel.com | Learn more | VIDEO | 😎Click here to Read on More Spicy Chapters👉 | https://website.metronovel.com/share/middle_new/lv2jyrpkmxi3aioozhlfmsnj?campaign_id={{campaign.id}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&campaign={{campaign.name}}&adgroup={{adset.name}} | 4.0179891634313E+14 | Read Web Stories | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476137356_1133647521785038_5193041544066953713_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=l3rVSbyrBAMQ7kNvgHW0FCK&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=AI2MUU60gqCj3U6bB0wLlfp&oh=00_AYBRfuWN2v9LwfSvVrF3o-8HW3d1kxhIrIMpKZoE9Lei_w&oe=67AA3B95 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | At dawn, Odalys Stone cracked open her eyes, the sunlight pouring through the window making her squint. For a moment, she stared blankly, her mind groggy, before her gaze fell on the crooked calendar on the wall. A bitter smile tugged at her lips. She was back. Back to this godforsaken day—the day her life had been ripped apart. The day she was sold into a marriage from hell, betrayed by the very people she had called family, and ultimately killed. Hatred boiled in her veins, rising like a tide that threatened to drown her. But just as quickly, she forced it down, letting icy calm take its place. Her past life had already wrung every last drop of emotion out of her. Not this time. This time, she wasn't that naive, helpless girl. She was alive. And she was here to make them pay, every single one of them. The sound of heavy footsteps snapped her out of her thoughts. A sharp knock rattled the door, followed by louder, more impatient banging. Before Odalys could even move, the door burst open with a deafening crash. A tall figure stormed in, grabbing her arm roughly and yanking her up. "Odalys Stone, are you fucking deaf?" Henry Bennett barked, his grip bruising, his expression one of pure rage. Her face turned glacial, her lips curling into a sneer. Without hesitation, she twisted his wrist sharply and shoved him away with enough force to make him stumble. As he regained his balance, blinking in stunned disbelief, Odalys calmly reached for her phone, pressing the record button without missing a beat. Henry gawked at her, his jaw slack. This wasn't the meek, obedient sister he knew—the one who flinched at his every word. She wasn't cowering or apologizing. She had fought back. "What the hell's gotten into you?" he spat, pointing an accusatory finger at her. "Do you think this is some kind of joke? The Stewarts are coming today, and you're still lying in bed? Do you want them to take Sophia instead? Is that it?" Odalys's gaze hardened, her voice cutting through his tirade like a knife. "Why, Henry? Isn't she the one engaged to him? Or is it because their son is dying that you want me to take her place? You're scared she'll end up a widow, but me? I'm just expendable, right?" His mouth opened and closed, his face turning an ugly shade of red. "Sophia is different," he muttered, his eyes darting away. "If people find out she's been married before, her life will be ruined." A bitter laugh escaped her lips, sharp and cold. "Oh, I see. Her reputation is sacred, but mine? That's disposable? How fucking convenient." Henry's fists clenched at his sides, his face twisting with anger. Before he could lash out, a frail figure appeared at the doorway. "Henry, stop," Sophia Bennett said, her voice trembling as tears streamed down her pale cheeks. She looked heartbreakingly pitiful, her wide eyes shimmering with sorrow. "I'll do it. I'll marry him, okay? If he dies, then... then I'll..." Her voice broke into sobs, her frail body shaking as though she might collapse. "Enough!" Hannah Bennett's voice sliced through the room like a whip. Odalys turned her gaze to her mother, who stood at the doorway flanked by her two brothers, Caspian and Atlas Bennett. Their faces were etched with fury, their contempt for her palpable. "Odalys," Caspian snapped, his fists tightening, "how can you be so heartless? Sophia is your sister. Are you really going to let her face this alone?" Atlas crossed his arms, his tone dripping with disgust. "We're not asking you to die. Just marry him for a while. Once he's gone, you'll come back safe and sound. What's the big deal?" Their audacity was almost laughable. Before her time travel, this might have broken her. She might have screamed, begged them to see reason, only to be crushed under their blackmail and cruelty. She had been drugged, stripped of her dignity, and forced into that cursed marriage. And when it became too much, she had ended it all in despair. But not this time. "Fine," she said coolly, her tone so steady it was almost unnerving. "I never said I wouldn't marry him." Taking a deep breath, Odalys straightened her shoulders, her lips curling into a calm, almost serene smile. Without a word, she walked to her desk, picking up a pen and paper. Her phone, still recording, caught every calculated move. The room fell silent. They exchanged confused glances, trying to figure out what game she was playing. A moment later, she turned back to them, holding out a document she'd just written. "Here's the deal—you're all signing this agreement to sever any and all family ties with me. I want it airtight, legally binding, and notarized. No bullshit, no loopholes. Once that's done, I'll marry the guy. Simple as that." Their stunned silence quickly turned to outrage. Atlas grabbed the document with a sneer, his voice dripping with mockery. "You? Cut ties with us? Who the hell do you think you are? Spit it out—how much do you want?" Henry didn't even hesitate. He pulled a sleek black card from his wallet and tossed it onto the table with a cold, detached expression. "Thirty thousand dollars. Take it and get out. Stop playing the victim—it's just a goddamn wedding. You're acting like we're sending you to the gallows." Sophia's eyes flickered with a momentary spark of relief when she saw the agreement, but she quickly smothered it with crocodile tears. "No, no, don't do this, sister!" Her voice cracked as she shook her head, her tone full of exaggerated despair. "I'll go. I'll marry him if that's what it takes. Please, don't fight with Mom and the boys because of me. It's my fault—I should've left the house the moment you came back if I'd known you felt this way." She spun around dramatically, her frail frame trembling with grief, and collapsed conveniently into Henry's arms. "Sophia," Henry murmured, holding her close like she was made of porcelain. He shot Odalys a glare filled with venom. "Is this what you wanted? To tear this family apart?" Odalys met his fury with icy detachment. "I'm not tearing anything apart. Just sign the damn agreement, get it notarized, and I'll go play your sacrificial lamb." Their angry, incredulous faces only fueled her inner amusement. 'Why did I waste so many years trying to please these people? Why did I beg for affection from people who wouldn't piss on me if I were on fire?' Once, she'd been their discarded daughter, tossed aside like trash while they paraded around their "replacement" — a shiny new girl they'd adopted to fill her spot. Meanwhile, Odalys had been left to fend for herself in the streets, barely surviving. If not for her mentor, she'd have been dead long ago. And yet, despite all that, she'd come back, hoping to earn their love, only to be betrayed in the cruelest way imaginable. But this time? This time, she wasn't here to beg. "You'll regret this!" Hannah's shrill voice snapped through the tension like a whip. She turned to the nearest servant and barked, "Get the lawyer. Now!" Her desperation was almost laughable—she wasn't worried about principle, only about Odalys backing out. The brothers exchanged uneasy glances but stayed silent, too afraid to challenge their mother. "Uh... yes, ma'am," the servant stammered before scurrying off. Henry stood frozen, his jaw clenched as he processed what was happening. "Mom, you're not seriously doing this, are you?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. But before he could get an answer, Sophia's soft sobs stole the spotlight. "Mom, let's not take it this far," Caspian chimed in, playing the concerned brother. "She's still family." Hannah's lips curled into a sneer, her eyes flashing with pure disdain. "This ungrateful brat thinks she can just walk away? Fine. Let her try. Without the Bennett name, let's see how far she gets in this world." The lawyer arrived moments later, looking thoroughly confused but professional as ever. Hannah shoved the document at him without hesitation, watching as it was officially notarized. Odalys took the signed agreement, her face calm and unreadable. She snapped a photo of it with her phone before slipping the papers into her bag. Without a word, she turned and walked toward the door, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. "Move," she said coolly, her voice like a blade. "You're in my way." Hannah stood frozen, her fury simmering beneath the surface. Finally, she grabbed her phone and hurled it toward Odalys's retreating figure. "You selfish little bitch! Are you trying to kill me?!" But Odalys didn't even flinch. Her voice floated up the staircase, steady and sharp. "Are those the wedding gifts from the Stewart family?" "Yes, ma'am," a servant replied hesitantly. Everyone froze, their confusion quickly morphing into curiosity as they followed her downstairs. There, Odalys stood in the entryway, surveying the piles of lavish gifts stacked neatly by the door. She pulled out her ID and handed it to the nearest servant. "Go to the bank. Open a safety deposit box and store everything there." The servant blinked, visibly stunned. "Pardon me, ma'am?" Odalys arched a brow, her lips curving into a smirk. "What's the problem? Aren't these gifts for me?" "Y-yes, ma'am," he stammered, nodding quickly. At her command, a team of guards began loading the extravagant gifts back into the trucks. The grand Bennett estate erupted into chaos as workers scrambled to carry out her orders. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Hannah screamed, her voice hoarse with rage. Chapter 2 Wedding Gifts The Stewart family—everyone knew their name. They were the pinnacle of power, dripping in wealth, and way out of anyone else's league. The wedding gifts they sent weren't just generous—they were mind-blowing. Even without counting, it was obvious they were worth billions. For a family like the Bennetts? Getting tied to the Stewarts was nothing short of a miracle. They weren't even in the same universe. But fate had handed them a golden ticket. William Bennett and Evander Stewart had once fought together, shoulder to shoulder, in life-or-death battles. Somewhere along the way, they'd sealed a promise: a marriage pact between their future children. Initially, the Bennetts planned to marry off Sophia. It was a straightforward enough plan until bad news hit. The man she was supposed to marry was at death's door, and the whispers said he didn't have much time left. No way were they going to send Sophia into a marriage that'd turn her into a widow before it even began. Luckily—or unluckily, seven months ago, the Bennetts had found their long-lost biological daughter, Odalys Stone. And just like that, they had a perfect solution: send Odalys instead. She'd secure the Bennetts' connection to the Stewarts, widow or not. Sophia would be off the hook, and the family would still come out on top. It was a win-win—at least for everyone except Odalys. "What am I doing here?" Odalys said, her voice calm but laced with a sharp edge as she glanced around. She raised an eyebrow, her smirk growing. "Well, obviously, I'm here to collect what's mine." She didn't bother hiding the amusement in her eyes. Watching the Bennetts fume while the Stewart family bodyguards loomed nearby was too satisfying. "What's wrong? Were you planning to keep it all for yourselves?" Her voice turned mockingly curious, her tone dripping with fake innocence. "Oh, wait—I get it. You're trying to screw me over because you think I'm just the backup bride, right?" Her words hit like a grenade. The bodyguards immediately paused their work, sharp eyes locking onto the Bennetts with unspoken suspicion. Hannah's face went pale, her heavily made-up features twisting in barely contained rage. She spat through gritted teeth, "If the Stewarts gave it to you, then fine. Take it. It's yours." "Damn right, it's mine." Odalys tilted her head, smirk still firmly in place. "Let's go, guys. Load it all up." The bodyguards didn't need to be told twice. They began reloading the boxes of gifts onto the waiting trucks. One of them rattled off the inventory under his breath. "Three boxes with three million dollars each. Two boxes of gold and diamond jewelry, 200 pieces total. One small box containing six property deeds for Crystal Cove villas. One small box with keys to 11 luxury cars." Sophia's fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging so hard into her palms that she almost drew blood. Those gifts were supposed to be hers. Sure, she didn't want to marry into the Stewarts, but she'd never said she didn't want the spoils. And now, she thought Odalys was walking out with everything. Every last thing. Her chest tightened with rage, her breaths coming quick and sharp. 'Why? Why does she get to take what should be mine?' "Odalys Stone, don't you have any shame?" Hannah snapped, stepping forward with a trembling hand pointing at her. Her voice cracked with the effort to keep her anger in check. "Aren't you afraid people will laugh at you? Taking all this—it's disgusting." "Laugh? At me?" Odalys turned, her expression cool, her voice calm and mocking. "For what? Taking what my husband gave me? No, Mrs. Bennett, people aren't going to laugh. They're gonna be jealous as hell." Her lips curled into a cold smile, her eyes glinting with something dangerous. "Or is it you who's jealous?" Her gaze swept across the room, pausing on each familiar face. To her surprise, she didn't feel the anger she thought she would. The Bennetts didn't deserve her rage. What she felt instead was an eerie calm. She'd been here before, in another timeline. This time, she wasn't here to please anyone. This time, she was here to cut ties, burn bridges, and take what was hers. "These gifts belong to me because the Stewarts are marrying me. You got a problem with that?" Her voice was soft but carried an unmistakable edge. Each word hit like a slap. Her eyes scanned the room, finally settling on Sophia. Slowly, deliberately, she stepped forward. Sophia froze, her eyes darting nervously to the side as she stumbled back a step. Her gaze flickered to the boxes of gifts, jealousy and frustration swirling in her tear-filled eyes. She'd never wanted this to happen. Sure, she'd agreed to let Odalys take her place in the marriage, but she hadn't agreed to give her everything. And now, Odalys was walking away with it all. The thought made her stomach churn with rage and humiliation. "Odalys, how could you do this?" Sophia's voice wavered, trembling with fake sweetness as she bit her lip, tears streaming down her face. "You're upsetting Mom. If you take everything, what will the Stewarts think of our family?" Odalys Stone chuckled coldly, her hand gripping Sophia Bennett's chin with just enough force to make the other woman flinch. Leaning in, she lowered her voice, her tone dripping with venom. "And just who the hell do you think you are? A nobody foster kid, and you've got the balls to come at me?" Her lips twisted into a smirk, her gaze sharp and mocking. "What the Stewarts think of you? That's your problem, not mine." She added with a scoff, "Jealous, huh? Pathetic little bitch." Sophia froze, her eyes wide with disbelief. The insult landed like a slap, and for a moment, she couldn't even process it. She wanted to lash out, but with the Stewarts' people watching, she bit her tongue. All she could do was stomp her foot in frustration, her chest heaving as she struggled to keep her composure. "Odalys Stone, what the fuck is your problem?" Atlas barked as he stormed forward, his expression dark. He pulled Sophia behind him protectively, glaring at Odalys like he wanted to snap her in half. Odalys raised a brow, her smirk deepening. Without a word, she turned on her heel and strode toward the door. When she reached it, she pulled a key from her pocket and flung it onto the floor. The sharp clink echoed through the room. Pausing in the doorway, she tossed a cold glance over her shoulder, her voice dripping with mockery. "And what are you gonna do about it? Or better yet, maybe she should be the one marrying instead?" The room fell into stunned silence as she walked out, her ponytail swishing in time with her confident strides. The Bennetts could only stand there, fuming, as the Stewarts' bodyguards continued hauling out the extravagant betrothal gifts without a care in the world. Hannah staggered, her face pale as she watched millions—billions—of dollars in gifts disappear. Her instincts screamed at her to do something, to stop them, but before she could act, Sophia grabbed her wrist in a panic. "Mom, don't! She's just trying to piss you off!" Sophia's voice cracked, panic lacing her words. "Once she calms down, she'll bring everything back. She's just throwing a tantrum—nothing more." But even as she said it, doubt flickered in Sophia's eyes. The truth was, everyone in Crownridge knew the situation with the Stewarts. Their patriarch was already at death's door, with the hospital issuing what was essentially a countdown to his final moments. Years ago, the Stewarts and Bennetts had been close, and the marriage was supposed to strengthen their bond. But now the Stewarts were rushing the wedding to bring some semblance of good fortune to a dying man. There wouldn't even be a ceremony. They'd sent the wedding gifts today with plans to take the bride immediately. The Bennetts, unwilling to let Sophia marry into such a grim situation, had shoved Odalys into the role instead. After all, she'd only recently been found after years of being lost and had no real connection to the family. The plan was simple: send her off, let her deal with the mess, and once the Stewart patriarch passed, bring her back. It was, in their minds, the perfect solution. Henry snorted, his tone filled with contempt. "She really thinks she can pull this shit? That's what happens when you let someone think they're equal to us. Time to remind her where she stands." Caspian leaned lazily against the wall, his lips quirking into a cruel smile. "Relax. Let her have her little moment. Once the bridegroom kicks the bucket, we'll drag her back here and teach her a lesson she won't forget. Let's see if she still thinks she's hot shit after that." But as they watched Odalys climb into the waiting car without so much as a glance back, a cold wind swept through the courtyard, sending a shiver down everyone's spine. The atmosphere shifted, the air growing heavy and unnervingly still. For the first time, an inexplicable unease settled over the Bennetts. In the backseat of the car, Odalys sat quietly, her gaze fixed on the rearview mirror. The Bennett mansion shrank in the distance, shrouded in swirling clouds that seemed to darken the skies around it. The house looked cursed, like it was being swallowed whole by its own greed and malice. A soft, bitter laugh escaped her lips as she leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes. Her mind was flooded with memories from her past life—memories that stung like open wounds. She could still feel the humiliation, the betrayal. The people she had once trusted—her own family—had stripped her bare, literally and figuratively. They'd recorded her, used the footage to blackmail her, and forced her to take Sophia's place. All for their own selfish gain, all to secure their position with the Stewarts. Chapter 3 You're Dying After her death, Odalys's soul drifted aimlessly, trapped in a limbo that felt endless. She couldn't move on, couldn't reincarnate—until an unknown, powerful force yanked her back into the living world, slamming her into a reality she wasn't sure she wanted. The memory made her fists clench tightly, her nails biting into her palms as her jaw set with cold determination. The sleek black car rolled to a stop in front of a sprawling courtyard mansion, its grandeur weighed down by an eerie stillness. The house seemed more like a relic than a home, its walls steeped in secrets and shadows. "Madam, Mr. Stewart is waiting for you upstairs," the butler, Dorian Huxley, said as he stepped aside, gesturing politely for her to follow. His tone was calm and measured, but it carried a quiet urgency. Odalys didn't respond. She stepped out of the car and into the courtyard, the oppressive silence pressing down on her like a physical weight. As she crossed the threshold, her gaze swept over the carefully arranged antiques in the living room—each piece meticulous, imposing, and completely lifeless. Her heels clicked against the polished wood floor as she climbed the stairs, each step reverberating in the stillness. At the top, she paused. A tall figure stood inside the room, his back to her, framed by sunlight filtering through the window. The light scattered across his broad shoulders, softening the harsh lines of his frame. She couldn't see his face, but his presence was unmistakable—commanding, unyielding, and suffocating. "You're Percival Stewart?" she asked, her voice steady, but low and cautious. The man turned slowly, deliberately. His eyes met hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to freeze. Those eyes were cold, bottomless, and completely detached, like looking into a frozen void. He held her gaze for a beat longer than necessary before shifting his eyes away, the indifference in his expression sharp enough to cut. The silence stretched between them, heavy and tense, before he finally spoke. "This marriage? It's just my grandfather's dying wish," he said, his voice deep and rough, every word laced with disdain. "Don't waste your time thinking it means anything. There won't be a ceremony, no legal documents, nothing. Once I'm gone, you're free to leave." The bluntness of his words caught her off guard, but she didn't flinch. She just stared at him, taking in the man who had been a shadow in the past. In truth, she knew next to nothing about Percival Stewart. Before her time travel, she had died before the marriage ever happened. All she'd heard was that he was twenty-eight, the head of the Stewart family, and dying from some incurable illness. Beyond that, he was a mystery—a figure hidden behind the impenetrable walls of the Stewart dynasty. He was like an invisible king, ruling from the shadows, unchallenged but utterly alone. Before she could respond, a harsh, violent cough broke the silence. Percival's tall frame trembled slightly, and the sharp, metallic tang of blood filled the air, cutting through the faint scent of scented candle burning in the corner. "Mrs. Stewart, perhaps it's best if you retire to your room," Dorian said, stepping forward quickly. His voice was polite, but the urgency in his movements was impossible to miss. Odalys didn't move. Her sharp gaze stayed locked on Percival, ignoring the butler entirely. She took a step forward, her eyes narrowing as the scent of blood grew stronger. It wasn't just a hint—it was thick, suffocating, and impossible to ignore. Percival felt her approach and shot her a warning glare, his expression hardening. "Go back to your room," he said, his voice rough and authoritative. He turned abruptly, his steps hurried and uneven as if trying to escape her scrutiny. But just as he moved past her, Odalys reached out and grabbed his arm. He froze instantly, his body tensing under her touch. He made a move to pull away, but she was faster. Twisting her grip, she held him in place, then reached up and grabbed his collar without hesitation. The sound of fabric tearing cut through the room like a slap. Percival's shirt split open, revealing a chest sculpted like stone, his bronze skin catching the fractured sunlight pouring in from the window. The room fell silent. Even the air seemed to hold its breath. Dorian stood frozen, his jaw slack with shock, his gaze darting between his mentor and the woman who had just ripped his shirt like it was nothing. No one saw it coming. Odalys, without hesitation, tore open Percival's shirt with a single, fluid motion. No one had ever dared to get this close to him before—let alone touch him. The speed and boldness of her actions left everyone in the room frozen, mouths agape. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Percival growled, his hand shooting up to clamp around her wrist with an iron grip. Her wrist was locked in his grasp, but Odalys didn't so much as flinch. Her eyes stayed locked on his chest, unblinking, studying his skin with laser focus. Beneath the smooth surface, something was moving—twitching, writhing, almost alive. It looked ready to tear through at any second. His veins bulged unnaturally, pushing against his flesh as though ready to explode. The air grew thick, the metallic tang of blood sharp enough to taste. Percival's body was a battleground, wracked with excruciating pain. It felt like shards of glass were tearing through him, breaking him apart piece by piece. His skin stretched taut, veins pulsating beneath it as if threatening to burst, and every nerve in his body screamed for relief. "Shit," he hissed through gritted teeth, sweat dripping down his temples. His face had gone pale, his jaw tight as he tried to suppress the pain. With great effort, he turned his icy glare on Dorian, who was frozen in the doorway, and the bodyguards lingering nearby, too stunned to move. "Take her back to her room," he ordered, his voice rough but unwavering despite the agony gripping him. "Yes, sir!" Dorian stammered, snapping into action and rushing toward Odalys, his face pale with fear. But before Dorian could reach her, Odalys made her move. She ignored the butler completely, her free hand lifting to press lightly against Percival's chest. The touch was almost playful, her fingertips tracing slow, deliberate patterns on his skin. Then, without warning, she shoved—hard. Percival froze, his entire body locking up. The moment her hand made contact, it sent a shockwave through him, like a current of electricity surging through his veins. The chaos beneath his skin—veins ready to rupture, blood cells fighting a violent war—suddenly stilled. The energy that had been raging inside him recoiled, like a storm abruptly silenced. His blood, moments away from tearing through his flesh, began to reverse its course. Thickened, frozen, and pushed back as though retreating from an unseen force. His heart seized painfully in his chest. "Ugh!" The sound ripped from his throat as dark blood spewed from his lips, splattering onto the floor. The black, foul-smelling liquid dripped from the corner of his mouth, its acrid stench filling the room. He staggered back a step, his pupils blown wide, his body trembling like it was ready to break apart. And then, suddenly, everything stopped. The agony gripping him moments ago faded to a dull ache. The sharp, relentless pressure vanished. His breathing steadied, his chest no longer heaving in pain. Slowly, cautiously, he glanced down at his body, expecting to see the usual horrors: split skin, torn veins, blood pouring from open wounds. But his skin was intact. No ruptures. No shredded flesh. No rivers of blood pooling at his feet. Aside from the dark blood he'd coughed up, he was fine. Whole. The pain, the chaos, the destruction that had always followed these episodes—it was gone. Percival's eyes snapped back to Odalys, shock flickering across his normally stoic face. She stepped back, her hand falling away as she regarded him with a calm, almost clinical detachment. Her gaze swept over him like she was piecing together a puzzle. "So the rumors are true," she said, her tone flat and disinterested. "You really are knocking on death's door." As she spoke, she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and began wiping her fingers clean. "But since you already made it clear this marriage is just your grandfather's idea to 'ward off bad luck,' and you don't actually want to marry me, that works out perfectly. I wasn't planning on getting married anyway." She tilted her head slightly, her eyes sharp and calculating as they locked onto his. "Let me guess. Your doctors told you you've got less than a month to live, didn't they?" His lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn't deny it. Odalys smirked faintly, the corner of her mouth curving upward in a way that was both confident and infuriating. "So, here's the deal. I'll keep you alive for the next month. In return, you let me walk away when it's over. No strings attached." Percival's eyes narrowed, suspicion mingling with disbelief. "You're saying you can keep me alive for a month?" "That's exactly what I'm saying," she replied, her tone as steady as her gaze. She stepped closer, reaching out again. This time, her fingers brushed against the corner of his mouth, wiping away the blood that still lingered there. She brought her fingers to her nose, sniffing lightly before speaking again. "You're not dying as fast as they think. You're poisoned—badly—but it's not terminal yet. I can stabilize you. Give you some time." With that, she wiped her fingers clean on the handkerchief and tossed it into a nearby trash can, her movements smooth and deliberate. She met his gaze again, her expression unreadable but unshakable. "Clock's ticking, Stewart. Your move." ---------------------- There are limited chapters to put here, click “learn more” to open App to continue reading (It will automatically jump to the book) | Read Web Stories | 76 | https://www.facebook.com/61563228761758/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| 2681508 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/10/25, 10:41 PM | 1738828444 | 1749613287 | 2478 | w2a.maiyunhktech.com | Learn more | IMAGE | Read the FULL Version👉👉 | Storyspace for online novel readers: Fantasy, Romance, Werewolf, Vampire | https://w2a.maiyunhktech.com/?book_id=11419&pid=1149912066726707&sid=wastory_android_h5&campaign_id={{campaign.id}} | 5.6391091347172E+14 | Wastory reading party | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476088147_639260078760859_3024843828175447778_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Qya3y8qsyRoQ7kNvgFOnNw7&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=AI2MUU60gqCj3U6bB0wLlfp&oh=00_AYCLWin-zoV1jQ0wz2nq1MZw01zoUH8tILq2Ik6_t-ZNkw&oe=67AA45FD | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Great News! My father met his second mate and will marry soon. My stepmother is a charming lady, but... Bad News; My stepmother has six sons who are part of the notorious bad boy team at school. These boys I offended not long ago, and we hated each other. Bad Start. Chapter1 I slammed the locker shut, and turned around to see my best friend looking at me with her big blue eyes. "What is it, Bella?" I asked and she shrugged. I rolled my eyes but still kept a smile on my face. "You know what happened to The Famous Brothers?" She asked as I leaned against the lockers. I shook my head, but I didn't really want to know. "They got caught for using illicit substances and went to jail," she explained and I shrugged. "Who really cares?" I asked and she frowned. "Duh, everyone," she said and I held back an annoyed eye roll. I really don't like gossiping about other people, especially when we don't even know them that well. For all we know is that they're doing this for a good reason. Suddenly Bella's phone pinged and she pulled it out and read the text, "Hey, my brother is here to pick me up. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" I nodded and gave her a hug, "I'll see you tomorrow." She waved and started walking away to the doors. I sighed and pulled out my phone to text my father to come to get me. Before I forget, hi my name is Norah. I'm 16 and a sophomore. I have one best friend, who you all know as Bella. We've been best friends for as long as I can remember. My father is the best; he does everything for me, and I love him dearly. Currently, he's working two jobs just to maintain ourselves. My mother... we'll talk about her later. I walked outside to wait for my father there, so as I did I heard a yell. I whipped around and looked around frantically. Me being the curious person I am, I walked to where the yell came from and it didn't take long for the yell to continue. It leads to the side of the school, so I hid behind the corner to watch what was happening. I gasped quietly as I saw the scene unfold. It was four of the Carries brothers looking as scary as ever. That wasn't it though, Avery Carries had a guy pushed up against the wall, holding his collar and wearing a deadly expression on his face. The poor guy's face had multiple bruises, black eyes, and a bleeding nose. Avery raised his fist into the air, about to punch him again until I did the stupidest thing I could have ever imagined doing. "Stop!" I shouted at him, and all of them whipped their heads in my direction. I gulped and walked to them, as they glared at me. "Let him go." "Y-you're just making it worse!" The guys spat out and, apparently, Avery loosened his grip because the guy ran away lightning fast. "Darn it! You made that guy run away!" Elijah exclaimed and I jumped a little. You're probably wondering how I know these guys, well I don't. Apparently, people have nothing better to do other than gossip about the Famous Brothers, which are the six brothers that go to school this school. Only four go, but the other two dropped out of college, which is really weird about how people even know them when they don't even go here. "Why in the world did you do that?" Emmet asked annoyed, glaring at me. I cleared my throat, hoping I wouldn't crack it while saying this sentence. "Because whatever you tried doing there, it's rude, " I told them confidently. They all rolled their eyes and Cayden scoffed. "What are you, eight years old?" He taunted and I shook my head. "Nope. I'm human, " I said and they stopped short and just stared at me with an unsettling gaze. I gulped as their gazes got more intense. "Cya, " I said suddenly beginning to walk away, but I felt a hand grab my arm. Before I could retaliate, I was shoved up against the wall, with my arms pinned above my head. "Listen here lady, " it was Avery, "don't try to act like you're better than us. We are and we'll always be. You're nothing and we're something, so just shut up and get out of here. So don't ever think you can mess with us, " he whispered with a grim look on his face. I gulped and slowly nodded. "Dude, let her go now, I think she understands, " Cayden said putting his hand on his brother's arm. He let me go and I instantly massaged my wrists, and soon enough my phone began to ring. I picked up my backpack and pulled out my phone, watching the four carefully. "Hello?" I answered and for some reason, the four didn't leave, instead, they just watched me. "Hey, my dear. I'm waiting for you outside so just come out when you're ready, " my father said and I nodded but then realized he couldn't see me. "Sure thing father. I'll be out in a minute, " I said and he replied with a 'see you soon' and hung up. I sighed and furrowed my eyebrows to see the four still staring at me. "What?" I asked, getting all cautious. They finally snapped out of it and turned the stare to glares. "Nothing, let's go, guys, " Elijah said and nudged Emmet who followed Elijah and slowly Avery and Cayden followed soon too. I shook my head and walked to the front of the school to see my father's car waiting out there for me. He smiled when he saw me and gave me a big hug. "Hey angel, " he greeted and I grinned and hugged him back. After the greetings, we both got in the car, and for some odd reason, my father looked nervous. "Father, you okay?" I tentatively and he snapped his head at me. He smiled sheepishly and shook his head. "I might have some news, " he said and I furrowed my eyebrows. "What kind of news?" I asked curiously and he shrugged. "I guess you could say it depends how you react, " he said and I nodded slowly. He took a breath in, "I'm getting married." I widen my eyes and the first thing I do is give him a big hug. Well tried to at least, since we're sitting opposite from each other it was an awkward side hug. "I'm so proud of you father!" I said trying to hold back the tears, but I heard him sniffle. I pulled back and wiped away his tears, and gave him a warm smile. "Why are you nervous about that?" I asked him and he immediately frowned. "Your mother, " he said quietly and I rolled my eyes, not at him though, just at her. "Father, she's not my mother nor your wife. She killed-, " I took in a sharp breath, "-him. She also cheated on you too. So don't you dare try to defend her. I'm sure the new woman you chose is a lovely lady, " I told him and he grinned. "Thanks, Norah dear, " he said and I hugged him once again. Can't wait to meet my new stepmother. Chapter2 It was the weekend, and I finally get to meet my new mother. I'm really excited, only because I never really had a mother growing up. She would always get drunk, pass out on the bed, and go out in the middle of the night. That's why my father had to take care of me. We are really close, and I love talking with my father. Right now, I'm staring at myself in the mirror. Since we're going to have dinner with my new mother, my father and I wanted to make a good impression, I decided to dress up a little. I'm wearing a blood red dress, with the sleeves as lace, I paired it with black flat shoes, and I put my hair up in a messy bun. I think it came out pretty good, and I'm fine with it. I put away all the makeup I used (which wasn't that much) and opened my door to walk down the stairs. Once I reached the bottom, I saw my father sitting down on the couch, probably hyperventilating. I understand though, he's about to have dinner with his wife, and he's going to propose too. "Hey father, " I said softly rubbing his back. He looked up and took in my appearance and smiled wide. "You look like a princess, " he said and I laughed. "It's going to be okay, I'm sure she'll say yes, " I assured him and he took in a deep breath and nodded. He stood up, "You're looking snazzy." I complimented, but then realized I never want to say that sentence ever again. He chuckled and hugged me, "Can't wait for you to meet her, she really is sweet and caring." "I'm sure she is a father, " I said pulling back and giving him a warm smile. The doorbell rang and father went to open it, I followed behind. He opened it to reveal a lady wearing a white lace dress, that comes off her shoulders. I love her dress, and she looks absolutely stunning! "Vanessa!" Father exclaimed and pulled her into an embrace, she laughed and hugged him back. "You're looking very nice William, " she said and my father being the man-child he is, blushed a deep red. "Thanks, Nessa, you look stunning too, " he said and she smiled wide. I didn't really want to interrupt their moment but I had to so I coughed to get their attention. They both turned to me and father lit up as if he forgot I was here, "Vanessa, this is my daughter, Norah. Norah this is Vanessa, my girlfriend." Before I could say hi, she pulled me into a hug, so tight I couldn't really breath. When she let go, she took in my appearance and grinned. "You look lovely Norah, " she said and I smiled and nodded towards her. "So do you, " I said and she giggled. My father led us to the dining room where we sat down, but when we did, Vanessa looked around and frowned. "There aren't enough seats, " she said and father widens his eyes while I furrowed my eyebrows. "What do you mean? There's only the three of us, " I said probably looking dumbfounded. Vanessa turned her head to me as if I said something dumb but then turned to my father with a scolding look on her face. "You didn't tell her?!" She exclaimed and father rubbed his neck while smiling nervously. I raised an eyebrow, interested in where this conversation was going. "Because there was just a lot going on so I kind of forgot, " my father explained and Vanessa rolled her eyes and turned back to me. "I have so-, " she got cut off by the doorbell. She stood up and walked towards it, as she opened it I heard a lot of chatter and footsteps. Once she got back I saw six guys standing there. The four I confronted on Friday stared at me with a complete dumbfounded look, and so did I. "William, Norah, meet my six sons. This is Avery-, " she got cut off by me. "I-I know who they are already, " I stuttered. She tilted her head to one side and father copied her action. "They go to my school, " I said quietly. My father and her face lit up like a cute little puppy getting adopted. "Then you guys must be great friends!" She exclaimed happily and the five of us widen our eyes. "No! She-," Avery started but Cayden nudged him in his stomach. I rolled my eyes at them and sat down and smirked. "Oh look at that, there's no more room, guess you guys have to sit on the floor, " I said giving them a sly smirk, while my father gave me a hard look. I couldn't help myself. We finally settled in the dining room and I was gladly sat a the end so they wouldn't try something, but they were still glaring at me. I have seen Theo and West around, but never have I ever tried to make a conversation with them. They're brothers probably told them about me. Apparently, Vanessa and father are deep in conversation because I don't think they can tell that six scary and intimidating guys are glaring at me. Do they not get tired of this? I then finally thought of something, because even though they're really intimidating towards other people, they just don't scare me. Theo and West are on my left, while Avery and Cayden are on my right. I slowly but surely slid my arms towards their drinks and as I reached their glasses I knocked them down, and I hastily put my hand on my fork and shovelled food in my mouth, looking down and pretending I didn't do anything. "What the flip!?" Avery and Theo shouted at the same time, but knowing them they obviously didn't day flip. Vanessa and father looked at them and Vanessa tsked and got up grabbing some paper towel while father helped Theo get to the bathroom. I fought back a smile, but Cayden noticed that and glared while clenching his jaw. I gulped as Avery came back and sat back down. He motioned West to lean in, which he did, and he whispered something to both West and Avery. All three of them made eye contact with me. Avery was furious, West smirked, and Cayden snickered quietly. This is not going to go well. Theo came back, grumbling something under his breath, and as he sat back down, West learned in his ear and whispered something. Once he was done, Theo snapped his head to my direction and shot me a cold hard glare that made me shrink in my seat. We were finally done eating, my father and Vanessa got up and poured some wine in a glass, but father stopped me. "Why don't you and the boys go to your room?" He asked and I gave him a dirty look. "You're sending me to my room, with six boys?" I asked and he stood up and leaned to whisper. "I'm going to propose to her, please Norah for me?" he whispered and I gave him a smile. "Sure father, " I nodded and gave Vanessa a wave. Once I turned, the guys were giving me a smirk. I think this was a bad idea. Chapter3 I guided the boys to my room, and even though I said I'm not scared of them, I am now since they caught me spilling water on them. I opened my bedroom door and they silently walked. Okay, I feel dirty for doing this. What kind of girl leads in six guys in her room? That's gross. I took in a deep breath- I was already pulled into the room by a strong grip, I whimpered as Avery locked the door and Theo grinned. I feel like crying, but I'm obviously not giving them the satisfaction. "Let me go, " I demanded. They chuckled all at once. "You really think you can scare us, little Norah?" Theo asked in a deadly tone. I gulped and stared at him. "Little Norah?" I asked and he exchanged looks with the others who just shrugged. "Yeah, your little and your name is Norah, " he explained slowly. I rolled my eyes, and for some reason, once I did roll my eyes, his grip got tighter. "Don't you dare roll your eyes at me, " he said and this time I mentally rolled my eyes. He finally let me go and I walked to my desk chair. West, Emmet and Elijah looked around my room, studying it with their eyes. "You spilled our drinks on us, didn't you?" Avery asked suddenly crossing his arms, I pursed my lips and looked down at my lap. "Maybe, " I mumbled. He scoffed and glared at me. "Why on earth would you do that?" He asked and I looked back at him, and I got the courage to stand up and look at each and every one of them. "I'm not scared of you. Any of you, "I said confidently and they smirked. "You sure about that?" Cayden asked and nodded. "Positive, " I said and he laughed and grabbed my wrist. "Wow, you guys really like touching me, huh?" I taunted and he rolled his eyes but said nothing. He led me to the middle, so now I was crowded by all six of them. "W-what are you doing?" I asked them cautiously. They smirked and Avery pushed me down on the bed. "What do you think?" He whispered flirtatiously in my ear, then I noticed that my father didn't tell them about him proposing to their mother. He was now literally on top of me and before this could get any weirder, "Stop! My father is proposing to your mother!" He was about to kiss my neck until he heard that and stopped midway. He jumped off me and everyone exchanged looks. "Holy cow!" Avery shouted and continuously wiped his mouth. I scurried to my bed frame. "You guys were trying to assault me!" I screeched and they jumped from my voice. "No, it's not like that! We didn't know!" Emmet explained and I felt so violated. "What if I didn't say that, huh? What would you do?" I asked getting angry, Avery repeatedly ran his hand through his hair. "Okay, okay! We're sorry!" West said and I rolled my eyes when all of a sudden Cayden widens his eyes. "Wait, so if your father is proposing to our mother and if she says yes then..." he trailed off and looked specifically at me. "You're going to be our stepsister?" Avery finished and I snorted unladylike. "Wow, you guys figured out how relations work, " I said clapping my hands sarcastically. They glared at me but I ignored it. "She shouldn't be marrying your father, he's a flippin' loser, " West muttered and I heard him clearly. I gasped and got off of my bed went up to West, "My father is not a loser, you are! Don't you dare say that about him, he did so much for me and he still does!" The room went silent until Cayden cursed, "Who cares? We just don't want you to be our sister." "Why not?" I asked curiously. "Cause' you're flippin' annoying. Now, our mother is marrying a loser," he said and I felt my blood boil. "He's not a loser! Why can't you be happy for your mother?" I exclaimed angrily. Emmet and Elijah cursed and clenched their jaw. "Just shut up!" Emmet shouted at me, his face red with anger. I looked down at the ground. "Just be happy for her. Your mother finally found a man she loves-," I got cut off by Theo - who hasn't said anything for a while - shoving me on my bed, again, and pinning my arms above my head. Wow, they really like this position, don't they? ;) "Shut up! You don't know anything about us! Stop talking about us like that! We don't care at all about you or your father! So just stop talking, or I'll do it myself," he screamed and I'm pretty sure I struck a nerve in him. "O-okay! I'm sorry," I said softly. He sighed and got off me, the others just watched in amusement. I'm sure this is about their father, I'm sure. The door swung open and in came father and Vanessa, looking as happy as ever. Father walked up to me and picked me up and swung me around. I laughed and hugged him back, already knowing what happened. "We're getting married!" He exclaimed happily, and suddenly I saw the guys stop. Father let go of me and stuck his hand out to West - probably cause' he's the oldest - and grinned brightly. "I'm glad you guys are going to be my new stepsons," he said. They frowned and hesitantly West gripped fathers hand and shook it. "Glad you're our new stepfather," he said and I did a double. What the flip did he just? That he's glad that fathers their new stepfather? Really? Wow, I thought they were going to, like, knee him or something. Father pulled them in a hug and I couldn't help but smile. This is my new family now. It's been a week since the whole proposal, and now today's the day where we move into Vanessa's house. Father announced that he and Vanessa are getting married in about two weeks. Every day at school, the four guys keep giving me glares and stares. At this point, it's getting fricken annoying. What can I do though? We haven't gotten along at all, and I'm not sure what to do now. We loaded in our boxes, suitcases, and more boxes into the moving truck. Once we were finished, father got in the passenger's seat as I looked at the house I grew up in. It really is hard leaving your house that you grew up in. People think that it's easy, but they're dead wrong. It's absolutely petrifying to people. It doesn't hurt me that much, though it's still a little depressing. The truck honked and I jumped, before turning around and entering the truck. I watched as the truck started and my house disappearing. Bye-bye old life. Chapter4 We arrived at Vanessa's house in an hour. The truck driver helped us get out our stuff, and put them on the sidewalk. He nodded at us and left, father and I looked at each other and smiled. Father went to go get Vanessa as I took me and fathers suitcases and rolled them over to the front door. I grabbed some of the boxes and put them there too. I opened the door and entered myself, rolling in the suitcases. Vanessa appeared with father beside her, she came and hugged me. "Hey Norah, how are you?" She asked and I gave her a smile, which she returned. "I'm fine. You?" I asked. I'm great, sweetie. Why don't I help you with that? The boys are not here right now, so I can help," she said and we all got together and moved in the boxes and we got the suitcases upstairs. Vanessa showed me my new room, it's cute and simple. I might just decorate later. I opened up my suitcase and took out all my clothes and started storing them in my closet. This is pretty big since there was a lot of people staying in it. Now, there's plus two more. Once I was done, it pretty late. I went down the hall and opened up Vanessa bedroom, father and Vanessa were there. They were both snoring away, sleeping peacefully. I smiled slightly and turned off the lights. Closing the door, I walked downstairs. I went inside the kitchen and made myself some toast. I flopped down on the couch, as I turned on the TV. I didn't realize but when I looked out the window, it was 10;00 pm and none of the boys came home yet. I started to get worried, even though we don't have a good friendship, they're still kind of my brothers. Finally, the door opened and slammed. I jumped up and looked at who did it. West and Theo were there and they were staring right back at me. Suddenly, my eyes widen. They have bruises all over their faces and their knuckles were purple. "Are you guys okay?" I asked tentatively. They rolled their eyes and disappeared into the kitchen. I raced to the kitchen and they were on the stools. I opened the freezer and took out some ice, put a paper towel over it and handed it to West, and I did the same with Theo. Though, they both tsked and threw it away, "What is the matter with you two? I'm trying help!" I exclaimed angrily, and West turned to glare. "We don't need your help," he said ruthlessly. I sighed and crossed my arms, while leaning on the kitchen counter. "Where were you guys anyway?" I asked them, then suddenly Theo slammed his fist on the table. I winced and he heard but ignored it. "Stop being so nosy! Why do you care?" He asked bitterly. I shook my head and scoffed. "What do you think? We're going to be s-," I couldn't finish that since the door open and slammed hard. I flinched and turned to see the other four with bruises all over their faces and knuckles. I looked at them with disbelief. "Seriously?" I asked. Avery smirked and opened up the freezer and got ice out, he covered it with a paper towel and put it on his face. He hissed in pain. "Why are you guys fighting people?" I asked annoyed. They also looked annoyed, but like on a different level. "Do you ever shut up?" Emmet asked furiously and I pursed my lips. "Not really," I replied sheepishly. Cayden scoffed but said nothing. "Can you guys just tell me, we're going to be siblings soon, so we might as well care for each other," I said and they clenched their jaws. "Look, " Avery began as the others glared at me, "we will never be siblings. You will never be our sister and we'll never be your brothers. Got it?" I rolled my eyes, "Stop being so dramatic." "Why can't you understand? You'll never be our sister and that's final!" West told me directly, glaring in my direction. "Why are you guys so stubborn? I just want your trust!" I told them, my anger rising. "I-if you don't want me to be your sister, fine, I don't care." Oh, but that isn't true. I will break all their walls, one by one. That was a lie. For some reason, I felt a tear slip from my eyes. They did a double take and Elijah came up to me, deciding to whether or not to wipe them. I tsked and shoved Elijah and wiped them by myself. If he ever said that to me, I would kill myself. "Why are you crying so much?" Emmet asked annoyed, I huffed and glared at him. "No reason," I muttered and walked to my room. There was obviously a reason though. The next day it was school. I like school, but you know, it's school. Does that make sense? I mean what I'm trying to say is that maybe if school started more earlier, then I would like school. So put that aside, I woke up from my alarm. I don't have an alarm clock because people always complain about how annoying it is. So, I realized I don't need one and that I can just use my phone. I go to the bathroom because personal hygiene is important. I do everything I need to do and go downstairs. I scowl at Emmet and Elijah when I see them shirtless in the kitchen. I just lost my freaking appetite. "Can you guys like, put on shirts?" I asked irritated. They turned and I widen my eyes to see they have pretty defined abs, but I cover it up with a cough and look straight at them, though they're looking at me with a smirk. "Like what you see?" Emmet asked teasingly, I rolled my eyes and shoved past them. I opened up the freezer to get out some waffles. "Have you guys eaten already?" I ask them and they scoff, but nonetheless, nod. I decided to make waffles for Cayden and Avery since they do have a lot. By the time I'm done, they're awake and sitting on the kitchen counter. I pour some syrup for Avery since he's the oldest and serve it for him. He watches me cautiously and pushes it out the way. "Hey! I worked really hard to make that for you and Cayden!" I told him annoyed. He smirked and grabbed the waffle with his bare hand and slapped it on top of Cayden's head since his head was facing down. I made an 'o' shape with my mouth from surprise and fear for Avery. His head shot up and he glared at me. "What the flip, Norah!" He shouted furiously. I gulped and shook my head frantically. "It was Avery, not me!" I said, my voice cracking a little. I cursed at myself for doing that, it was pretty embarrassing. "What, me? How could you accuse me, Norah?" Avery said innocently, I shot him a glare that didn't seem to affect him at all. I sighed and went back up to my room, pulled on a random t-shirt and some blue jeans. I ran back down stairs and as I was about to leave someone grabbed my arm and turned me around. "Nobody can know that your father proposed to my mother," Cayden said angrily. I rolled my eyes and yanked my arm out of his hold. "Whatever." | Wastory reading party | 1754 | https://www.facebook.com/61572227636644/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| 2681531 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/10/25, 10:39 PM | 1738828444 | 1749613141 | 2478 | fb.lovenovelshort.com | Learn more | VIDEO | Read all now👉 | https://fb.lovenovelshort.com/book/loading/page/novelshortnew/051054552235?utm_campaign={{campaign.id}}&utm_content={{campaign.name}} | 4.5569316428998E+14 | Novel Short - Emotional Story | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475799097_1620219492220722_7723593448087657103_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=R4W0OGXXyUoQ7kNvgGgHyM-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=AI2MUU60gqCj3U6bB0wLlfp&oh=00_AYBd7-opdWK-7kGJLaHaQo9BLIEsfDSGou_G_Xu7u77dJQ&oe=67AA2261 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | I sat by the bay window of our penthouse suite, gazing at the city skyline under the crescent moon. Tonight marked five years since I bonded with Caleb Darkwood, Alpha of the Crescent Moon Pack and a wealthy werewolf billionaire. It should have been a night of celebration, but unspoken truths weighed heavily on my heart. Caleb had broken another promise. Instead of being with me, he’d gone to a pack council meeting in Zurich, taking Zara—his Beta’s sister and new “executive advisor”—with him. Her presence in his life felt too close for comfort. Her scent, a mix of vanilla and wild jasmine, often clung to his suits, something he refused to explain. When Caleb finally returned from his trip, it felt like an eternity. He stormed into the penthouse, his Armani suit sharp and his golden eyes glowing with restrained power. He brought a sapphire pendant, its blue sparkle as tempting as the promises he never kept. “It symbolizes our eternal bond,” he said, his tone soft as he fastened the necklace around my neck. His fingers lingered, their touch meant to soothe, but I could feel the subtle edge of guilt in his gestures. For a moment, I wanted to believe him, to hold onto the memory of the man I had once loved, the one who fought to win my heart. But as I looked out the window, I saw Zara below in the courtyard, laughing with a group of business associates. Zara wore a moonstone bracelet on her wrist, a symbol of affection and loyalty in werewolf tradition—something Caleb had once promised would be mine alone. I turned back to him, forcing a smile, but the image of Zara lingered in my mind like acid. Her laughter drifted up, carefree and sure, as if she believed she had already won. Days later, I overheard them in one of the pack’s boardrooms. Caleb’s deep, commanding voice carried through the partially closed door, tinged with the casual familiarity that had become my waking nightmare. “You’re overthinking it,” Caleb said, his tone laced with reassurance. “You’re underestimating her,” Zara replied sharply. “She’s not as blind as you think. Amalia knows something’s going on.” “She trusts me,” Caleb replied with a confidence that twisted my stomach. “That’s all that matters.” Their laughter that followed felt like a knife twisting in my gut, sharp and merciless. The breaking point came during a pack charity gala, held in one of Caleb’s luxury skyscrapers. Wolves mingled in their finest attire, sipping champagne and discussing business ventures under the glow of crystal chandeliers. I stood to the side in the emerald gown Caleb had insisted on buying, the sapphire pendant heavy around my neck. Across the room, Zara lingered near Caleb in a crimson gown, her every move calculated. She whispered to him, her hand brushing his arm. Caleb chuckled, his expression familiar. Then his gaze met mine. For a brief moment, guilt flashed in his eyes, but it quickly vanished. Later that night, Caleb tried to make amends. He presented me with a shimmering cloak of custom-spun silk, its fabric glinting like liquid silver. “It reminded me of you,” he said, draping it over my shoulders with practiced tenderness. I forced a smile, but inside, resentment boiled like a storm waiting to break. These gestures were nothing more than distractions, illusions meant to blind me to the truth. Caleb’s attentiveness grew suffocating after that. He began scheduling meetings around my availability, brought me roses imported from Italy, and lavished me with promises of private trips to exotic locations. But his efforts only deepened my resolve. One afternoon, I sought solace in the pack’s rooftop garden, high above the city streets. Instead, I found Zara standing by a fountain, her phone in hand. She glanced up, her blue eyes narrowing as I approached. “Luna,” she greeted with a syrupy smile. “Out for some fresh air? Caleb and I were just finalizing the expansion plans for our Singapore office. He’s quite the visionary, isn’t he?” Her words were deliberate, meant to provoke me. I didn’t bite. “Is that so?” I replied calmly. My gaze dropped to the delicate chain around her neck—a gold locket I had seen at Caleb’s office days ago. She smirked, sensing my gaze, and for a moment, her mask slipped. Beneath her polished exterior, she was a woman who took pleasure in my discomfort, seeing me not as Luna but as an obstacle. When the full moon arrived, Caleb spared no expense. The great hall of the skyscraper was turned into a glittering ballroom, filled with wolves and influential allies. “To more years of love and loyalty,” Caleb declared, presenting me with a ruby pendant said to be carved from the heart of a fallen star. He fastened the chain around my neck, the crowd erupting in applause. I smiled as Caleb kissed my cheek, but my fingers gripped the gemstone tightly. In the shadows, I saw Zara watching, her jealousy barely hidden. They thought I was weak. That I’d stay silent. They were wrong. The next morning, I stood in the migration office, a sleek, modern space tucked away from the pack’s primary headquarters. “Ms. Amelia Wren, your allegiance to the Crescent Moon Pack has been officially renounced,” the clerk said, stamping the final document. “Shall I process your Luna bond dissolution?” “Yes,” I replied, my voice steady. “This is irreversible,” she warned. “Once the bond is broken, your mate will no longer sense or track you.” “That’s precisely what I want.” I smiled at her and slid an envelope of cash across the counter. “And that ensures confidentiality.” The ruby pendant weighed heavily around my neck as I left, its sparkle a cruel reminder of the life I was leaving behind. In the town square, a massive screen displayed Caleb’s latest press conference: “Alpha Caleb Darkwood Secures Legendary Ruby for His Luna.” Fascinating, right? The crowd murmured about how perfect we were. Perfect? They had no idea. Chapter 02 The unraveling began one night. I had come home late from a high-profile meeting with the board of Crescent Moon Enterprises, the sprawling tech and real estate empire Caleb ran as Alpha of the Crescent Moon Pack. The weight of the business dealings and the constant pressure of being his Luna and his corporate partner had me exhausted. Caleb was asleep in our penthouse, his muscular frame sprawled across the silk sheets of our massive bed. The soft glow of city lights filtered through the windows, casting shadows on his peaceful face. At first, everything seemed normal. But then I saw it. A photo. I grabbed it. Stared at something obvious in the image. The brunette strand of hair resting on Caleb’s chest—it wasn’t mine. I froze, my breath catching, my heart skipping a beat. I clenched my fists, the photo burning in my hand. But I couldn’t react just yet. I approached the bed slowly, my pulse racing, forcing myself to stay calm. I already knew the answer—I just needed confirmation. "Who is she, Caleb?" I asked, my voice steady, betraying none of the fury building inside me. Caleb blinked awake, confusion flickering across his face before it shifted to an easy calm, his usual corporate mask slipping into place. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, his golden eyes glinting with that familiar controlled power. "Lia, don’t start. You know my loyalty is to you and the pack." I held up the photo. "Explain this." He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair, his expression adopting that all-too-familiar calm. "It’s not what you think. Zara stayed late to go over some financial reports and property acquisitions for the pack. She must have—" "Must have what?" I cut him off, my voice rising, the tension thickening the air. "Accidentally left a piece of herself in our bed?" His jaw tightened, the calm slipping for just a second. "You don’t understand the pressure of being Alpha, Amalia. The pack needs unity, and Zara is essential to keeping everything running smoothly. She’s been handling the business side of things so I can focus on the pack." I didn’t say anything. His words felt like a cheap excuse. A lie. That night, as Caleb slept beside me, I sat up, holding the photo in my hands. I reached for the pen and paper in the drawer and wrote a goodbye letter—though I wasn’t ready to use it yet. Something inside me had shifted. The trust I once had in Caleb was gone, and I wasn’t sure it could be repaired. A week later, Caleb hosted a lavish event in the pack’s penthouse at Crescent Moon Tower. The gala was filled with wolves in business suits, influential allies, and powerful werewolves from around the world. Caleb stood at the center of the room in a tailored Armani suit, exuding power as both a businessman and Alpha. He presented me with another ruby necklace, its red gem gleaming in the light. He kissed my cheek as he fastened it around my neck. "Forgive me," he murmured, but there was no real remorse in his voice. The crowd cheered, but I barely noticed. Across the room, Zara stood in a tight emerald dress, her eyes fixed on me, filled with barely hidden jealousy. She didn’t just want Caleb—she wanted my place, my title, my life as Luna. Zara’s true nature was starting to show, not just to me but to everyone around her. She wasn’t content being Caleb’s business partner or his trusted executive advisor. She wanted everything. And Caleb... Caleb was blind to it, or perhaps, he didn’t care enough to notice. The cracks deepened after that night. At a council meeting, I proposed an alliance with the Bloodstone Pack, a rival group in the tech sector. The deal would give us a foothold in their territory and secure more contracts. But as soon as I presented the proposal, Zara quickly undermined me. “I’m sure Luna Amalia means well,” Zara said sweetly, her voice sugar-coated. “But wouldn’t it be a bit too risky for Crescent Moon Enterprises to tie itself with Bloodstone right now?” She didn’t even look at me as she spoke, her tone laced with a passive-aggressive edge. Caleb didn’t even bother to defend me. He simply stayed silent, his eyes unreadable, his face expressionless. The silence was worse than anything she could’ve said. At a corporate harvest festival hosted by the pack’s elite, Zara found another way to dig her claws into me. She brought me honey cakes—my favorite treat, the one Caleb had once promised never to let anyone else offer me to ensure the ingredients will be safe for me for I have an allergy. “Caleb told me how much you love them,” she said with a fake innocence, holding the plate out to me with a sweet smile. I managed to force a polite smile. "Thank you, Zara. This is so sweet of you." Later that evening, I overheard her talking to Tyrian, one of the pack’s scouts, in hushed tones. "She doesn’t deserve him," Zara hissed. "She’s weak. A rogue pretending to be Luna." I felt the sting of her words like a slap to my face. She wasn’t wrong. I had once been an outsider. But Caleb fought for me to be part of his pack. That night, I retreated to my hidden sanctuary beneath the penthouse, a space I had created for myself, away from Caleb. Here, I kept my escape plans—plans I wasn’t ready to act on yet but knew I would need. I stared at the newest ruby necklace Caleb had given me. Its weight felt suffocating, a symbol of everything wrong in my life. Chapter 03 Caleb insisted on another dinner celebration for our anniversary. He’d been busy with work all week, managing his empire that he had built from the ground up. I wasn’t sure if he genuinely wanted to celebrate us or if it was just another way to keep up appearances, but I went along with it anyway. Even disregarding what I saw and heard from Zara earlier. At the office, Zara intentionally flaunted to her office mates her new diamond ring given to her by rich boyfriend when she saw me stepping out of Caleb’s office. Rich boyfriend, huh?! Tsk. I sourly looked at Caleb. How could he calmly cheat on me and continue acting so loving and caring? What an actor! We were halfway to the restaurant when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, and his jaw tightened. “An urgent issue at the company,” he said, his voice clipped. “I’ll drop you off and join you later.” I smiled, the kind of smile I had perfected over the years. "Sure, no problem." But something inside me didn’t buy it. Something about the way he said it, the quick glance at the phone—something wasn’t right. It’s Zara. Obviously. As the car veered toward the company’s building instead of the restaurant, I caught a faint but familiar scent in the air. Zara. Again. Her vanilla and wild jasmine scent lingered in the car, as though she had just been there. I pushed the thought away. The more I think of Zara, the more she pisses me off. That night, I waited for Caleb in the sitting room. It was well past midnight when he finally walked in, surprised to see me still awake. His eyes widened when he saw the small box in my hands. "Recognize this?" I asked, my voice steady despite the tightness in my chest. He froze, taking in the mementos inside: movie tickets, a dried lavender sprig, and a photo from our first run together under the full moon. Old memories, moments that once felt real. His expression softened as he reached for the box. "I’ll fix us, Lia," he whispered, almost pleading. "I swear." I handed him a sealed envelope. "Open this on the next full moon. It’s my gift to you," I said, unsure if I meant it. He took the envelope, looking confused, but didn’t question me. He gave me a half-smile and left without another word. The days leading up to the full moon were a blur. I couldn’t focus on anything except the growing tension between Caleb and me. Something had shifted in him, but I couldn’t pinpoint what. The business was clearly becoming more important to him, and I saw it in his face, his distance, and especially in how often he spent time with Zara. I went to see Astrid, the pack’s doctor, and my closest confidant. She was one of the few people I trusted completely. We met in her small, cozy apartment. “Are you sure of your plans?” Astrid asked me. She knew my plan to cut my ties with Caleb and the pack. “Zara’s ambitious. She’s dangerous, Lia. She won’t stop until she’s sitting in your seat. You need to stay sharp." “There was hesitation, yes. A small part of me questioned if I was making the right decision. But the larger part—” I stared at Astrid, “the part that had been watching Caleb and Zara for weeks now, the way they exchanged glances, the way his eyes softened when she spoke… I was done with waiting and playing a good Luna, Astrid. I wasn’t about to let this continue. If this was the path I was going to take, I wasn’t going to lose.” Later that afternoon, I took matters into my own hands. The marketplace was as busy as ever, and I made sure my words reached the right ears. I wasn’t subtle. I spread rumors about Zara’s growing influence and her plan to replace me. By the time I left, I knew the whispers had already started. I had time, but not much. Soon, everyone would know the truth: Zara was trying to take everything from me. Caleb, however, seemed oblivious—or maybe he didn’t care. I had no more time to waste. That evening, I decided to clear my mind with a walk through the estate grounds. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, the rustling leaves matching the swirl of thoughts racing through my mind. I didn’t want to admit, but the weight of everything—Caleb’s betrayal, Zara’s scheming, the entire pack watching my every move—was overwhelming. I had to make a decision, but I needed clarity. Time to stop being reactive and take control. As I walked into the park, I heard footsteps—quiet, almost too quiet. My wolf, Bella, instantly alerted, my heart rate spiking. I wasn’t alone. From the shadows, a tall figure emerged, his amber eyes glowing under the moonlight. He wasn’t from the pack, I could tell. His presence was strong and calm, unlike anyone I’d met. He didn’t seem to have an agenda, but there was something magnetic about him, like he was exactly what I needed right now. "You look like someone about to take down a kingdom," he said, his voice low and oddly familiar. I raised an eyebrow. "And what if I am?" A slow, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Then you’re not alone." “It’s not a kingdom,” I smiled bitterly. “An empire.” “I think you might want my help…” He grinned. “For what cost?” “Just promise you will leave Caleb…” I frowned. Not that I care anymore for Caleb, but why did he want that? “Who are you?” I asked. He grinned again. “Your knight.” “I don't need a knight.” I turned my back on him. I walked away and went straight to my husband’s tower. My husband’s tower, indeed, for I will soon leave him and all he possesses before the next full moon. Chapter 04 I sneered the moment Caleb turned around for he needed to leave early for another “urgent meeting.” I sipped my coffee, the bitterness grounding me as I mentally replayed Zara’s smug words. “She’s not as blind as you think.” Zara’s voice dripped with confidence when she stated that. The nerve of her! I squinted my eyes and sighed to calm myself. She was right—I wasn’t blind. But I had allowed myself to be silent. She could continue rejoicing but it will be no longer. I had spent the last few days quietly observing, piecing together the clues they so carelessly left behind. Caleb was growing bolder in his deceit, and Zara was more than happy to flaunt her supposed victory. But I wasn’t ready to lose—not yet. The next step of my plan was the corporate stronghold. The air inside Crescent Moon Tower buzzed with efficiency, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with expensive cologne. Zara was perched behind Caleb’s desk, her manicured fingers tapping at a keyboard. “Luna,” Zara said, her tone a mix of mockery and forced politeness. “To what do we owe the pleasure?” I ignored her. I gazed over the office, wandering. Caleb’s chair was angled slightly toward hers, their closeness unmistakable. On the desk was a gold locket—one I had seen Caleb gave her at a gala. “I just wanted to check on the expansion plans for the Bloodstone territory,” I replied, keeping my voice even. Calm. Her lips curled into a smirk. “Oh, those? Caleb and I discussed them last night. He agrees with me—it's too risky to proceed right now. But of course, we value your input.” The barb was subtle but clear. She wanted me to feel irrelevant, powerless. I refused to take the bait. I smiled so sweetly that she could get diabetes. “Good,” I said. “Because I’ll be presenting an updated proposal to the council next week. After all, Caleb does value unity within the pack, right?” Her smirk faltered for a fraction of a second before she recovered. “Of… of course,” she said smoothly after almost stuttering, her gaze sharpening. Satisfied seeing how I’d left her uneasy with just like that, I turned and walked out. As I stepped into the elevator, my fingers itched to crush the phone in my hand. Instead, I pulled up a number to call. Ethan—the one I had met at the park nights ago. I had no idea actually why Ethan looked for me. He said he wanted to help. Even though I was curious about his reasons, still it’s unnecessary to ask. His offer was all I needed. For now. Ethan answered on the second ring, his voice calm and steady. “Amalia.” “I’m ready to talk,” I hushed. Ethan chuckled. I wanna drop the call because he didn't sound serious at all. Then, he informed me where and when we will talk personally. He ended the call and I was left staring at his number on my phone’s screen. I sighed and went to the penthouse. That evening, I met Ethan in a secluded corner of the rooftop garden. The city lights glittered below, the air thick with the scent of pine and damp earth. He leaned casually against the railing, his amber eyes reflecting the moonlight. “So,” he began, his tone teasing, “ready to take down the empire now?” I folded my arms, meeting his gaze head-on. “Not yet. But I’ll need your help when I start.” His grin widened, and for a moment, I forgot why I had been so wary of him. Ethan exuded a confidence that was magnetic, reassuring even. “Smart move,” he said. “But if you want my help, you need to know something first.” I raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that?” He stepped closer, the air between us changed. “Caleb isn’t just cheating on you with Zara. He’s been funneling pack funds into secret accounts—accounts tied to Zara’s name.” The words hit me like a blow, but I didn’t let my expression falter. “How… How do you know this?” Ethan snickered. “Let’s just say I have my sources. And I have proof, if…” he trailed off and stared at my eyes, “if only you’re interested.” I hesitated. I gulped. The weight of his words sinking in. Ethan wasn’t just offering me a lifeline; he was offering me a weapon. I gazed at him. Searching for something I didn't actually need to look for. I blinked and stepped back from him. “Send me the proof,” I said finally, my voice steady. “And don’t think for a second that I trust you.” His laughter was low and rich, like the rumble of thunder. “Fair enough. But trust me when I say this—Caleb’s downfall will be your salvation, Lia.” I nodded. I’m out of words looking at him. Must I trust him? ‘Yes!’ Bella excitedly answered. “Are you with me or not?” Ethan asked with another grin on his lips. I nodded slowly. “I wanna hear confirmation, Lia.” “Me being here is already a confirmation, Ethan.” “It’s just yes or no, Lia. Are you with me or not?” I pursed my lips. “Yes, I am…” “You are?” “With you…” I didn’t know why it’s hard for me to say that. Not because I care much for still being married to Caleb. It's just that I felt there was another deep meaning of it as I say it. “With me.” Ethan smiled widely at me. “Why do I feel you are sounding nervous?” “Enough with your teasing tone, Mr—” I was lost. I had no idea of his last name. Much as I wanted formality, I can’t go through it because I only know his first name. “Ethan Wolfhart.” He smiled. “Mr. Wolfhart then.” I squinted my eyes. “And I meant it, please stop your teasing tone. I’m not used to it and—” I ended what I was saying. I sighed. “And?” “I’m not here making friends with you…” I stated. “I hope you get what I mean.” “I told you to fix it!” Caleb barked. He was pacing the living room with his phone pressed to his ear. “I don’t care how it happens—just make sure it’s handled before the council meeting!” He spotted me hovering at the edge of the room and, like magic, the rage vanished. His face smoothed into something softer, a mask that I’d once believed was real. “Morning, Lia,” he said with a warm tone. He moved toward me, his smile so polished. “Did I wake you?” “No,” I lied, watching him closely. “Everything okay?” “Just pack matters,” he replied with a dismissive wave. “Nothing you need to worry about.” He leaned in to kiss my cheek, and I let him. His lips brushed my skin, but the gesture was empty, hollow. A habit, not a connection. As he disappeared into his office, I retreated back to the master’s bedroom. My phone was still on the desk where I’d left it. Ethan’s message from stared back at me. ETHAN: Check your email. My heart thudded as I opened the email. The attachments loaded one by one: bank transfers, encrypted messages, photographs of Caleb and Zara in shadowy corners of Crescent Moon Tower. My hands trembled as I scrolled through the damning evidence. Ethan hadn’t been exaggerating. This wasn’t just betrayal—it was calculated, ruthless. The final attachment was a video, dated last week. I hit play, and the air seemed to drain from the room. Caleb and Zara were in a private boardroom. Zara leaned casually against the table, her smirk sharp enough to cut. “She’ll figure it out eventually,” Zara said, her tone half-warning, half-mocking. “You can’t hide everything forever. You should divorce her and make me—” “I love her.” Caleb leaned back, smirking. “And Amalia doesn’t need to know. As long as she loves me, we’re fine.” Zara raised an eyebrow. “And when she realizes about us?” | Novel Short - Emotional Story | 4816 | https://www.facebook.com/61567072857011/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681565 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/11/25, 1:32 AM | 1738828445 | 1749623531 | 2478 | totalmotioneducation.com | Learn More | CAROUSEL | https://www.totalmotioneducation.com/instanttraining/?utm_source=FB&utm_medium=%7B%7Badset.name%7D%7D&utm_campaign=%7B%7Bcampaign.name%7D%7D&utm_content=%7B%7Bad.name%7D%7D&utm_term=%7B%7Bad.id%7D%7D | 99550178243 | Total Motion Release | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476357520_1297098381435586_3713447851943171373_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=6hL_NozRu8MQ7kNvgH7gUUI&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYCnN1y_H78ckYK-Dke3fEg7jp1ZQDMFPbzoBSL-Ts7uEw&oe=67AA38DA | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Total Motion Release | 2013 | https://www.facebook.com/tmrseminars/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681470 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/11/25, 5:01 AM | 1738828443 | 1749636099 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | VIDEO | Read next chapter | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=157725&accid=7929461117168105&exdata=C53DCDAE4F2816FF454D99067A27BE5D28944800EFA0D270 | 3.7558525564194E+14 | Fun Novels | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475810560_654203266933559_8944641247065379302_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=SZCCTTpj1_IQ7kNvgH6BdEA&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYCEe58q6EM70LPFu2wq7U59DiW5f_zeXupvkEz63GtrFA&oe=67AA2825 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | After two crazy years, she decided to let go and return him to his first love. But he refused to let her go. "Don't leave me. Tomorrow's engagement is with you!" ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi**ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his b*dmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my b*d, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red m*rk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my b*d too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You b**ch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame gr*aning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &4& | Fun Novels | 2477 | https://www.facebook.com/61563251196448/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681488 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/11/25, 10:19 AM | 1738828443 | 1749655171 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67179322-fb_contact-enj83_6-0110-c3-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=060236&accid=985743679749990&exdata=D6FAA275DE3CB432A5A85617FDC7FB20E6321C18F218F911 | 4.3210510665256E+14 | Fragrant Fiction | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474972413_1167461925003469_7714431572704392759_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=D2jtebtFnz4Q7kNvgHCoKYr&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYA7c1SxwXWbOwO4kXaZGQpqL4r8F_ZQZuacbC-LNcFvYg&oe=67AA4CE5 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Rumors claimed she was an uneducated, hot-tempered bumpkin. She sneered and revealed her true identity as a renowned designer, gaming pro, celebrated artist, and business tycoon, leaving everyone stunned! ===== "We're here to escort you home, Miss Morgan." "Your parents have been tirelessly searching for you over the years. Upon discovering your whereabouts, they promptly dispatched us to ensure your return." Fernanda Morgan surveyed the men in crisply tailored suits who stood before her, he appeared to be a butler. "Moreover, the Harper family is keenly anticipating your return. You are to be engaged to Mr. Harper once you return!" "Alright then. Let's go," Fernanda agreed with a slight nod. She collected her already-packed belongings and stepped into the vehicle. The journey from the small town of Zhota to Esaham was a long one, spanning at least two days by car. As dusk enveloped the sky, they pulled into another small town. The butler located a modestly appealing motel and proposed they stay overnight. Fernanda's accommodation was at the far end of the second-floor hallway, Room 201--arguably the best room available. The butler and the rest of their group opted to stay on the lower floor. The night was unusually warm and dry, rendering the room's aging air conditioner useless. Fernanda opened the window to invite a cool breeze, causing the curtains to dance gently in the evening air. Fresh from her shower, she dimmed the lights and crawled into bed for the night. Drifting into a light sleep, she was jolted awake by a disturbance outside. A subsequent noise at the window snapped her to full alert. As she bolted upright, a shadowy figure burst through, launching itself onto her bed. The freezing touch of a bl*de hovered at her neck as a low, threatening voice growled, "Don't you dare move." Immobile, Fernanda's body clenched in fear. The faint, iron tang of bl**d lingered on the man's sleeve--a grim reminder of his dangerousness. This unmistakable hint solidified the fact: this man was no one to mess with. Outside, the commotion intensified. Shortly after, a forceful knock resonated at the door. A coarse voice demanded, "Is anyone there? Open up now!" As the voice still echoed, the kn*fe at Fernanda's neck dug in slightly deeper. The man's voice dripped with malice as he warned, "Get rid of them, or you're as good as dead." His right arm ensnared her waist, his left hand unwavering with the kn*fe at her throat. Through his firm grip and calculated movements, Fernanda realized he was deadly serious. Cornered, she knew she had to play along for the time being. "Sure." With a soft, steady voice, Fernanda reassured him. "It'll all be okay." With no answer from inside, the outsiders used a master key to unlock the door and stormed in. At the sound, the man jerked Fernanda's baggy T-shirt, pulling her down onto his lap and encircling her with his arm, forcing her to straddle him as he shifted position. Right then, the door flung open, and a stark beam of flashlight flooded the room. Fernanda let out a panicked scream, quickly bending over the man to obscure him from view. "Sweetheart, what the hell is this place? How could anyone have the audacity to barge in like that?" Acting as though she was terrified, Fernanda held onto the man, her grip firm and desperate. Her voice, usually sweet and enticing, now carried an edge of annoyance mingled with a breathless charm that was utterly captivating. Suddenly, Fernanda felt the man beneath her tense up. Seconds later, he encircled her with his arm and expertly flipped over, drawing the blanket over both their bodies. As the blanket slid, its soft whispers merged with the steady rhythm of their breaths, painting a scene of understated sensuality. Faces flushed with embarrassment, the group at the door stood stiffly, unprepared for the private display before them. Nonetheless, the couple inside the room showed no signs of halting their intimate exchange. The motel's security guard chuckled uncomfortably, "Looks like they're pretty busy... Maybe we ought to leave, huh?" One of the men brushed past the guard and entered the room with a purposeful stride. Fernanda's heartbeat skyrocketed as she heard the footsteps drawing near. Could they actually be contemplating unveiling them? A chilling bl*de pressed against her side, its pointed tip grazing her skin, sending a shiver through her already tense body. The footsteps halted next to the bed, and with a surge of courage, Fernanda leaned in closer to the man beneath her. Pulled back gently, the blanket gave way to the flashlight's piercing light, exposing a glimpse of her delicate, b*re back. In the softness of the bed, their movements continued unabated. Fernanda's lips met his in a fervent kiss, her hair cascading down to obscure his face, while his hand gently caressed her side. The subdued m**ns that slipped from their lips lent the scene an air of genuine intimacy. Abruptly, a voice erupted from beyond the room, piercing the tranquility. "Boss! Something's going down out on the street!" Instantly, the man at the bedside sprang to his feet and vanished through the door. With the door slamming behind him, Fernanda disentangled herself and slipped from the bed. Moonlight seeped through a crack in the curtains, casting delicate shadows across the room. The man watched as Fernanda's slender figure was silhouetted against the pale light. Memories of earlier washed over him; his fingers traced her skin, so smooth and velvety. She had gripped his arms, her delicate skin pressing softly against his. Her hair had brushed his face, each strand silky, carrying a subtle fragrance. Her voice had been a soft melody, soothing to his ears. This woman was serene and astute. Amid the intrusion, rather than succumb to panic, she had pressed her lips to his, a kiss so convincing it had deceived the pursuers. Her technique was rather clumsy, only pressing her lips against his without any other movement--evidently her first kiss. Breaking the ensuing quiet, the man's voice softened from its usual sternness to a rasp tinged with all**re. "Was that your first kiss?" Chapter 2 That's Gross With deliberate movements, Fernanda pulled out a piece of clothing from her suitcase, her voice sharp and cool. "This is none of your concern. I think it's time for you to leave." All she desired at that moment was to hasten the man's departure. Barely a moment before, when he had embraced her, his fingers had brushed against her back, lingering just a moment too long. The calluses on his fingertips were coarse, betraying more wear than most. His adeptness with a knife and his swift reflexes hinted at a background that was far from ordinary. Cutting off the thought immediately, Fernanda dismissed any curiosity about his background. From below, the blare of a car horn shattered the silence. The man stood up smoothly. During their earlier intimacy, he had loosened his shirt, though his trousers remained crisply in place. He buttoned his shirt as he approached the window and casually tossed something to Fernanda. "My apologies for any discomfort caused earlier. Consider this your compensation," he said with a nod. With the graceful precision of a panther, he sprang out of the window. Fernanda approached the window, peering out into the night where, under the faint illumination of the streetlights, she observed him scale the wall effortlessly. He navigated the ledges until he merged with the shadows. She stooped to retrieve the object he had left--a sleek black card. The night's disruptions had been met with suitable compensation--a fair recompense. Fernanda pocketed the card and drew the curtains closed. The following morning, the butler approached Fernanda with a look of concern etched across his face. "Miss Morgan, I hope you managed to rest last night. There was an inspection for a burglary, which stirred quite the disturbance." She shrugged casually and muttered, "It was fine." As they drove, the butler stole glances at Fernanda through the rearview mirror. Reclined in her seat, she gazed out the window, her elegant profile cast in contemplative silence. He mused quietly to himself that she did not embody the typical country-raised youth. Her calm sophistication and graceful demeanor set her apart, enhancing her natural charm and making her an effortlessly endearing presence. After two days of travel, Fernanda stepped into the bustling streets of Esaham. The city was a teeming metropolis, alive with vibrant streets and a relentless stream of traffic. Shortly after 8 a.m., a stretch Lincoln limousine glided into the upscale estate of Dawn Villas, coming to a halt in front of a majestic three-story white villa. Stepping gracefully from the limousine, Fernanda let her eyes wander over the grandeur of the building before her. The villa, both opulent and imposing, was a testament to vast wealth. Her lips curled into a faint, almost mocking smile as she gave it a scrutinizing glance. This was her father Robert Morgan's residence. From humble beginnings, he had climbed to wealth and status with her late mother's support. After amassing his fortune, Robert had coldly cast aside her mother, choosing to revel in a relationship with his mistress. That woman--Michelle Morgan--had contributed nothing to his success, yet she now sat smugly in the seat Fernanda's mother had rightfully earned. She basked in the luxuries and respect that were never hers to claim. Worse still, Michelle had dared to flaunt her victory, parading her stolen life before Fernanda's grieving mother, a cruelty that had ultimately led to Fernanda's mother's untimely death. To the world, Michelle was seen as Robert's second wife, a symbol of grace and charm. Michelle even had the audacity to claim she was Fernanda's real mother. But Fernanda knew better. Behind the polished veneer lay the truth, raw and unforgiving. Fernanda's dark eyes momentarily hardened, a flicker of steely determination glinting within them. Her mother was no longer here to seek justice, but Fernanda vowed she would deliver it on her behalf. Just then, the villa's grand door swung open, revealing the pair responsible for the upheaval in her life. Robert stood tall and pristine, the sharp lines of his tailored suit accentuating his stature. His gold-rimmed glasses reflected the warm light, adding an air of calculated sophistication. At his side was Michelle, the very picture of elegance. Her fitted dress clung perfectly to her poised figure, exuding refinement and composure. "Fernanda, you've come back." Robert greeted warmly, a smile playing on his lips as he waved her over. "Come in." Fernanda's eyes darted downward, concealing the storm of emotions swirling within her. With a tentative step, she moved closer. Robert, with an arm encircling Michelle's waist, introduced her with a gesture. "Fernanda, this is your mother." With a casual wave toward the living room, he remarked, "And that's Erika, your sister." On the couch, Erika Morgan was engaged with the television, only looking up when Fernanda approached. Her eyes narrowed judgmentally at Fernanda's plain dress, her face contorting into a sneer. With an exaggerated eye-roll and a sarcastic tone, Erika muttered, "That country bumpkin? Dad, she's no sister of mine." Michelle approached Fernanda with a warm smile, linking her arm with Fernanda's. "Oh, Fernanda, Erika's just teasing. Pay her no mind. I've prepared breakfast for you. You must be starving. Let's have something to eat." Silently, Fernanda slipped her arm free and strode with determined steps into the dining room. Michelle paused, her smile faltering as a shadow of confusion crossed her face. She turned to Robert, her voice tinged with concern. "Robert, what's gotten into her?" He sighed, his voice a blend of empathy and resignation, "Fernanda was raised in the countryside. She's a bit unrefined, that's all. It's nothing against you, Michelle." Michelle nodded slowly, a soft smile reclaiming her features. "No worries," she murmured, her resolve firming. "I'll guide her as she settles in, teach her the essentials of elegance, and shape her into a poised young woman." Robert gave a supportive pat on her back, his expression one of appreciative assurance. In the dining room, Michelle seated herself next to Fernanda. "Fernanda, you must try this beef," she insisted, placing a tender slice onto Fernanda's plate. "It's Erika's favorite." Fernanda responded by promptly lifting the beef from her plate and dropping it into an empty plate with a clear look of disgust. "That's gross," she stated flatly, her voice void of any warmth. Chapter 3 How Could You Lie? The moment those words left Fernanda's lips, the entire table came to a standstill, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief. Erika, her patience fraying, brought her hand down hard on the table and demanded, "Country bumpkin, what are you even saying? My mom was kind enough to offer you this beef, and you have the nerve to be rude about it?" Fernanda met their astonished looks with a mask of feigned innocence. "I was clearly referring to the beef," she said with a deliberate pause. "It's raw and quite frankly, it looks unappetizing. What else could I possibly mean?" "You..." Erika's retort faltered, caught in her throat. Admitting that she thought Fernanda was insulting Michelle was out of the question. With a slow, calculated blink, Fernanda went on, "Unless, perhaps, you think there's something even more gross on this table than the raw beef?" At this, Erika's face registered sheer astonishment, and for a split second, her voice seemed to have deserted her entirely. Not a single word could she muster. It was Michelle who broke the awkward silence, interjecting smoothly, "Fernanda, the dish you're referring to is called beef tartare. It's a renowned delicacy made from top-notch beef and a pasteurized egg, typically found in high-end dining establishments. Perhaps it's something you've not had the opportunity to try before." Her voice subtly implied that Fernanda's simpler past might not have included such refined culinary experiences. Fernanda allowed a mischievous smirk to play at the corners of her lips and replied, "Our ancestors honed an array of sophisticated recipes and techniques. They certainly didn't refine these culinary arts for us to regress to consuming raw meat as if we were lost in the wild." Michelle's expression briefly betrayed a touch of discomfort, yet she managed to sustain a polite smile, nodding her agreement somewhat rigidly. "You bring up a valid point, I'll give you that." "I agree. I'm not fond of beef tartare either," Robert added with a nod, his gaze settling on Fernanda with evident pride. "I've always preferred classic tastes myself. It seems Fernanda has inherited that from me." Fernanda offered a subdued smile, delicately wiping her fork on a napkin after attempting the beef tartare, then resumed eating with a composed demeanor, seemingly unaffected by Erika's glaring resentment. Michelle suddenly ventured a soft query. "Fernanda, which university are you attending these days? Erika is at Luminary University, one of the top schools in the country. What about you?" At this, Erika's face morphed into a self-satisfied grin. Robert's tone grew cooler as he intervened on Fernanda's behalf. "I've spoken to a few contacts back in Fernanda's hometown. Currently, she isn't enrolled in any university." Michelle's eyes went wide, her voice cutting through the silence as she blurted, "What did you just say? Fernanda isn't attending any university? That simply cannot be! What will happen when the Harpers find out? Mrs. Harper had just mentioned a few days ago that they were planning a grand welcome party for Fernanda upon her return. If they learn she's not enrolled anywhere, it could be disastrous." Robert intervened, his tone laced with irritation, cutting through Michelle's rising panic. "Enough. I will take care of Fernanda's education myself." From the corner, Erika couldn't suppress a snicker. Imagining Fernanda managing to sneak into some low-ranked school through connections was downright amusing to her. The Harper family, celebrating the arrival of what Erika considered a rural nobody, was an absurd thought. Fernanda's crude and graceless demeanor would certainly earn their disapproval the moment they saw her. Erika found Bobby Harper quite charming, but his family's insistence on honoring their promise to engage him to Fernanda and pushing Robert to reintegrate Fernanda into their circles seemed ridiculously foolish to her. She was convinced that the Harper family would never develop an affinity for someone as lacking in education as Fernanda. The mood around the table grew tense as they discussed Fernanda's academic prospects. Amidst the awkward silence, Fernanda herself reached for a napkin, dabbing at her lips gracefully. "I have already registered to take the entrance exam for Esaham University," she announced, her voice steady and clear. "Assuming all goes well, I plan to attend there in the near future." Erika was caught off guard and, for a moment, was speechless before she burst into unrestrained laughter. The idea that Esaham University, the most prestigious in the nation where seats were as coveted as gold, would allow Fernanda to take the entrance exam was laughable. Clearly, this was a lie. Robert's demeanor hardened, his eyes narrowing with a frosty glare. He furrowed his brow in disapproval and said sternly, "Fernanda, how could you lie about being granted the opportunity to take the entrance exam for Esaham University? Was lying the only lesson you picked up in your little hometown?" "Honey, calm down," Michelle interjected quickly. "Fernanda was only trying to impress you." Turning to Fernanda with a soft, maternal expression, Michelle remarked in a soothing tone, "There's no shame in skipping college, Fernanda. You don't have to pretend or feel lesser because of it. We're family here, and we don't judge you on such matters." Her words, though gentle, were saturated with disbelief, assuming Fernanda was fabricating her story. Fernanda, without a word of defense, simply pulled out her smartphone. After a few taps, she pushed it across the table towards the center. Everyone leaned in to see the display. Erika's laughter stopped abruptly as she stared at the screen. Displayed prominently was Fernanda's Esaham University entrance exam admission ticket, complete with her photo and name in bold. Snatching the phone, Erika's eyes grew wide as she inspected it repeatedly. Her anger boiling over, she tossed it away and exclaimed, "This can't be real! You edited this, didn't you?" Chapter 4 This Girl Is Something Else "This isn't a photo--it's an online document," Fernanda stated in an even tone, her voice steady and clear. "Notice the Esaham University web address at the top?" Erika was at a loss for words. Her complexion lost its color as silence enveloped her. Entry to Esaham University was notoriously difficult, achievable only through the rigorous standardized exam or by excelling in the university's specialized admission test. This test was reserved for the truly outstanding, drawing candidates from diverse disciplines and making the chance to compete a rare gem. How did Fernanda manage to secure a spot to attend the admission test? Suddenly, Robert's hand was on Fernanda's phone, his eyes scanning the text again and again. Any annoyance he felt quickly dissipated, replaced by bubbling excitement. A rich, joyful laughter escaped him as he declared, "Brilliant, Fernanda! Absolutely brilliant!" The way Fernanda managed to secure such an incredible opportunity didn't concern him. What mattered most to him was the overwhelming pride he felt, knowing she had this chance to take the exam. With a stiff smile and a voice laced with tension, Michelle replied, "Yes, well done." "What's so great about that?" Erika scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. "It's not as if she's actually going to pass." "But it's certainly better than not being qualified to try at all, right?" Fernanda retorted smoothly. Color rushed to Erika's cheeks, her anger palpable. She slammed her fork down, the clatter echoing sharply. "I've had enough!" she declared vehemently, before storming off in a huff. After dinner, Robert and Michelle walked Fernanda to her cozy and thoughtfully prepared room. The room was airy and uncluttered, resonating with Fernanda's love for understated elegance. "Across the hall is your sister's room," Michelle explained, her voice carrying a warm undertone. "Next to yours is your elder brother's. He's often caught up with work commitments and rarely at home. Your younger brother, who's currently at a summer camp overseas, has his room beside Erika's." She continued, a smile softening her features, "If there's anything you need to make your stay more comfortable, please don't hesitate to tell me, dear." Robert watched Michelle with a look of quiet approval. "Thank you," Fernanda murmured, her eyes downcast as she spoke. "I think I'll take a shower now." At that, Robert and Michelle excused themselves, leaving Fernanda to her privacy. As she stepped under the spray, cool water washed over her, drenching her face and lending a luminous sheen to her eyes. They sparkled against the backdrop of water droplets on her lashes, enhancing the serene yet frosty allure of her features. Once out of the shower, Fernanda blow-dried her hair until it was just damp. As Fernanda from the bathroom, she dug through the suitcase and found a photo of Hiram Hammond. The photo was a solemn memorial portrait of Hiram. Though not bound to her by blood, he had nurtured her with unwavering care and affection. To Fernanda, he was her entire world, her only family. That cherished photo, a tribute to his memory, was something she couldn't afford to lose. Gazing at the kind, gentle face in the photo, Fernanda was enveloped by a surge of affection. With gentle hands, she cleaned the photograph and lovingly placed it on a side table in the room. Within the next two days, the villa had welcomed two additional guests--Michelle's nephew and niece. The man exhibited an unseemly l**tfulness, with his gaze persistently fixed on Fernanda whenever he could manage. Meanwhile, the woman had aligned herself with Erika, openly manifesting her contempt and animosity toward Fernanda through both overt and subtle jabs. Disenchanted by their presence, Fernanda chose to distance herself from the villa's stifling atmosphere. As the sun dawdled on the brink of the horizon, the evening air, warm yet prickled with tension, brushed against her. Seeking a brief escape, Fernanda wandered to a convenience store and picked up a can of cold beer. Positioned against a lamppost, she deftly popped open the can single-handedly. The refreshing chill of the beer soothed her throat as she drank. A slight tilt of her head caused the collar of her shirt to shift delicately, exposing the elegant contour of her collarbone. With an air of sophistication, her neck arched gracefully, like someone relishing a glass of champagne in an exclusive bar. Having savored the last drop, Fernanda tossed the can with a casual flick of her wrist, watching it arc smoothly into the bin with a satisfying clink. Not far off, someone hidden in the dim interior of a black sedan watched intently. Bobby, palpably impressed, turned to his companion and remarked with a mix of awe and admiration, "Cristian, this girl is something else!" Chapter 5 Attacked Cristian Reed, who was sprawling in the backseat, remained silent, his eyes firmly shut. "Wow, the girl is stunning! Check out those legs--so beautiful and flawless! Did you see her toss that can, Cristian? She's got skills that could rival yours!" Bobby's incessant babble finally pierced Cristian's reserve. With a sigh, Cristian's eyes fluttered open. Just then, the headlights from an approaching vehicle swept across his face, accentuating its angular contours and highlighting a small mole beneath his eye. Drawing out his words, Cristian replied with a lazy drawl, his voice a deep, soothing rumble laced with a trace of exhaustion, "Aren't you getting engaged soon? Isn't the eldest Morgan daughter meant to be yours?" Bobby visibly flinched at the mention, his expression contorting into one of clear distaste. "She's nothing but a stray who got lost as a child and grew up in some nowhere place. Who's to say she isn't just a goddamn ugly rural bumpkin? My friends probably see me as some unlucky fool. Cristian, you are my cousin. You should not make fun of me like they do!" Cristian merely crossed his arms, extending his long legs and settling back more comfortably without a word. The silence seemed to deepen Bobby's frustration, as if sealing his fate. Yet, as Bobby's eyes landed on the girl's striking figure under the streetlight again, his mood shifted, and a flicker of curiosity lit up his face. With a playful grin, Bobby lowered the window and leaned slightly out, his tone dripping with charm. "Hey there, gorgeous. Can I offer you a ride?" "No, thank you." Her words were crisp and frosty, cutting through the evening like a cold breeze, leaving a chill that touched both men. In the backseat, Cristian's body tensed. His eyes snapped open, his head whipping around toward the sound of the voice. That voice? It unmistakably belonged to the girl he had met in that dimly lit motel. Cristian acted with such swiftness that he seemed to blur the lines between thought and action as he swung the car door open and emerged. Fernanda mistook his approach for a mere flirtatious gesture. Without giving him another thought, she turned away and continued on her path. She had only taken a few steps when she felt a strong, unyielding grip halt her progress. She spun around, coming face-to-face with the man who had stopped her. Towering and strikingly handsome, he possessed an aura of undeniable presence. One hand was nonchalantly placed in his pocket, while the other securely grasped her arm. His piercing gaze locked with hers. "Well, if it isn't you!" Cristian muttered slowly, a hint of recognition in his voice. "Seems like we keep meeting, huh?" Fernanda's eyes flickered with surprise as she realized who he was--the man from that unforgettable night. Given that he was a dangerous fugitive, she wanted to keep her distance from him. Swiftly regaining her composure, she adopted an aloof demeanor. "I'm sorry, sir. You must be mistaken," she replied evenly. "No," Cristian responded, his voice low and steady, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "A debt of gratitude is something I never forget." His remark revealed a depth to his character. For Cristian, repaying a good deed wasn't just a courtesy--it was a principle he lived by. Meanwhile, Bobby had exited the car and now stood a short distance away, his expression one of utter bewilderment. "What's going on?" he inquired. Cristian brushed off Bobby's presence, focusing instead on holding the car door open for Fernanda with a subtle nod. Fernanda stayed rooted in place, her gaze sharp with caution. "What do you mean by that?" "I'd like to take you to dinner. Would you join me?" Cristian urged with a warm, inviting smile. It came across as a question, but Fernanda could discern from the inflection in his voice that he wasn't genuinely offering her an option to decline. Her familiarity with his nature left no room for misunderstanding. Refusing him might only provoke him to force her into the car himself. With a sigh, she gave a subdued nod. "Fine." A faint smile flickered across Cristian's face as he graciously gestured for her to enter, then smoothly took his place behind the wheel. Bobby blinked in shock, his mouth hanging open. "You've got to be kidding me, Cristian. This is incredible!" Cristian had effortlessly ensnared the alluring girl with a mere handful of words, an accomplishment Bobby found profoundly impressive. As Bobby tried the back door, he found it unexpectedly locked. "Cristian?" he inquired, a hint of confusion in his tone. Cristian commanded firmly, "Leave." Frozen in place in the brisk evening air, Bobby watched the sleek black car vanish into the shadows of the night. He was the first to spot the girl! Why had they left him behind? Inside the car, Cristian shattered the lingering silence by firing off a torrent of questions. "Are you from Esaham or Zhota?" "Zhota," she answered softly. "And your name?" "Letty Molina." "How old are you?" "Twenty-five," Fernanda replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Cristian stole a sideways glance at her, his voice laced with skepticism. "Doesn't seem like it." "Reality seldom mirrors our expectations," Fernanda replied, her tone unwavering. "Take your appearance, for instance. In that impeccable suit, you're the perfect picture of a business tycoon. Yet, you're the same fugitive I stumbled upon the other night." Cristian couldn't help but laugh, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You do have a point." Fernanda was finally no longer feigning ignorance about their past encounter. Cristian was relieved. Had she chosen to continue her charade, he had his own methods to have her drop the act. As usual, Esaham's traffic was a snarled mess. Cristian veered onto a less congested side street, hoping to evade the endless sea of cars. Breaking the silence, he suggested, "I know a cozy spot run by a Zhota native--serves excellent food. Let's head there." "Sure," she replied, her tone calm but firm. Just as Fernanda's reply hung in the air, a jarring crash echoed from behind, jolting the car forward. She was thrust back, the seatbelt gnawing into her shoulder. Cristian's gaze darted to the rearview mirror. Suddenly, a van cut sharply across their path, blocking them. On either side, vehicles converged, spilling out men brandishing grim tools, their silhouettes ominous in the dim streetlight. Without hesitation, Cristian reached into the center console, retrieving a kn*fe. "Whatever happens, keep yourself inside the car. Don't even think about stepping out," he instructed firmly, pressing her back into the seat. With a resolute nod, he went on, "I'll take care of them, and afterward, dinner's on me." Cristian wrapped up his conversation, offering Fernanda a fleeting smile that appeared untouched by the surrounding tension. Fernanda folded her arms and settled deeper into her seat, her face a mask of tranquility as she observed Cristian approach the group of armed adversaries. The scene was stark--one man facing off against a throng armed to the teeth. The odds were clearly not in his favor. Yet, as Cristian lifted his foot and dispatched two of the men to the ground with a single, silent kick, Fernanda took note of his precision and power. His technique spoke of extensive training and raw capability. The gang, incited by Cristian's defiance, rushed at him collectively. Sticks sliced through the air, each strike landing with a dense thud that echoed menace. Cristian, however, danced through the tumult with a grace that seemed almost serene. Despite their advantage in numbers, his assailants found themselves floundering to overpower him. One attacker received a blunt punch straight to the face, staggering backward and eventually collapsing against the hood of Cristian's car. As he dabbed at the bl**d dripping from his nose, the man snarled in rage. Catching sight of Fernanda inside the vehicle, a sinister idea sparked within him... ...... 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) &5& | Fragrant Fiction | 62 | https://www.facebook.com/61565957015132/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681480 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/13/25, 11:08 PM | 1738828443 | 1749874112 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | IMAGE | Read next chapter | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65237322-fb_contact-enj94_2-1207-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=157725&accid=304554039400649&exdata=1900C7F110003453DB60EC8E6D9A7786A91BB982A7544386 | 3.7558525564194E+14 | Fun Novels | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475764308_2304587463245805_1972736292961620459_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=u0DAFojblj4Q7kNvgFFdh5E&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYCjrk8DNQ1mugC-H6zP63KrOS5Qb67yn8c9rlSovDWcGQ&oe=67AA2843 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | The family was happy that the real daughter had returned. As she prepared to leave, the real daughter accused her of copying her designs. Everyone expected her to be humiliated, but unexpectedly, she stunned everyone by revealing her ownership of billion-dollar design patents, striking back and turning the tables. ===== "Take this for your journey. You're set on returning to your original family, and I won't hold you back. It is just that the place you're headed is impoverished and I doubt anyone will even be there to greet you..." Liam Gill, whom Harlee Sanderson had addressed as dad for years, pressed a few hundred-dollar bills into her hand. Downstairs at the Gill family villa, a spirited celebration filled the hall, while upstairs, Harlee quietly folded her clothes into her suitcase. Liam sighed. Just three days earlier, Adelina Gill had shown up holding a DNA report, proving she was his biological daughter. The revelation had sent the entire Gill family into turmoil. Follow-up tests had confirmed that Harlee, the girl who'd been part of their family for years, was not related to them by bl**d. Now that Adelina had returned, the Gills poured all their affection on her, making up for lost time. They treated her like a treasure, eager to erase the suffering she'd endured over the years. Meanwhile, Harlee's last name had been changed that very night. Liam quickly dispatched people to the countryside to locate her real parents. So far, there had been no replies. Today was all about Adelina. The festivities focused on welcoming her as the genuine daughter of the Gill family. "You have such soft skin, and these clothes have been selected with care..." Liam said softly, feeling mixed emotions as he helped Harlee sort through her wardrobe. "You should take these outfits. They're high quality. But when you go back to the countryside, I suppose..." According to the hospital, Harlee's biological parents had visited Adenarora when she was born. They left the next day and returned to their small village. To make matters worse, her parents lived in Osemery's notorious slums, a place infamous for its poverty and crime, where people were often unfriendly and violence was common. Liam surmised Harlee's future there didn't look bright. She wouldn't just lose the luxury she was used to. It seemed, soon enough, she'd be given in marriage to some country bumpkin without any say in the matter. Harlee looked at the cash Liam had pressed into her hand with a blank face. She set the money down on the bedside table. "I'm heading out now." After saying this, Harlee grabbed her suitcase and walked past the people loitering in the hallway. She moved on without glancing back. Averie Gill, Liam's wife, frowned with disdain. "What's with that attitude? Is she upset because it's not enough money for her? For God's sake, we've spent so much on her over the years, especially those beautiful, pricey clothes! How dare she act this way now? Humph! Once she walks out that door, the future ahead of her is nothing but dismal." "Mom, please don't take Harlee's attitude personally. It's only normal for her to be upset about losing her comfortable life abruptly. She's just throwing a little fit. There's no need to be mad at her," Adelina said softly, her tone filled with feigned concern. Adelina knew a bit about Harlee's background after the investigation. Harlee's biological parents were the poorest in the village with their family grave being defaced yet lacking money to fix it. Worse, Harlee's biological parents had five hungry sons, with a sick mother and a disabled father to care for. Harlee wasn't just returning to a rundown area. It was more like a nightmare. Adelina smiled gently, masking her glee. "I'll go say goodbye to Harlee." Once Harlee was out of sight, Liam let out a sigh and turned to Averie. "We raised her. She's leaving everything she's ever known. Don't be too harsh on her." "Harsh? Come on!" Averie shot back. "Her worthless parents might have switched babies on purpose to make our precious daughter suffer. Just thinking about it makes my blood boil. How could I possibly feel sorry for Harlee?" Harlee took the side exit, trying to steer clear of the banquet hall altogether. Adelina caught up with her, wearing a sugary smile. "Harlee, I really need to apologize about my thing with Collin. I know you were supposed to marry him, but he just fell head over heels for me." It felt less like an apology and more like a brag. Collin George came from a powerful family that matched the Gills. He had been engaged to Harlee, but now, with everything that had happened, the future bride had changed. "Collin has always been so sweet and caring. Honestly, I hate to flaunt our love in front of you, but he can't help it. Harlee, I hope this hasn't upset you too much," Adelina said, feigning concern. Harlee raised her eyebrows, wearing an indifferent smile. "Watching two f*ols date is hilarious. Why would I be upset?" Chapter 2 The Kind Real Daughter And The Vicious Fake One "Harlee!" Adelina shouted, her face bright red with anger. Harlee had just insulted her and Collin. Such audacity! Harlee's grin widened. "You and Collin are just perfect together. One kicks people when they're down, and the other follows the money." Adelina had just returned to the Gill family for only three days, and Collin appeared to be already smitten. Harlee found it all hilarious. Just as Adelina was about to lose her temper and hurl insults at Harlee, she noticed Averie coming down the stairs. In an instant, Adelina pressed her lips together, tears threatening to spill from her eyes as she adopted a pitiful expression. She quickly wiped away her fake tears. Averie took in the scene, her anger boiling over. She hurried over and yelled, "Harlee, it's unsurprising that your biological parents are impoverished rustic individuals. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Your lack of manners is quite apparent! You couldn't leave without taking one last jab at Adelina? Should I just throw you out?" "No manners? Maybe it's because that's the way you raised me," Harlee shot back, her smile dripping with sarcasm. Harlee had never met her real parents. When Averie claimed that Harlee lacked manners after so many years of living with the Gills, she was actually insulting the Gill family. Averie had never seen Harlee so sharp-tongued before. She pressed her hand to her chest, as if she might faint from anger. Adelina's eyes turned red, her face showing feigned concern. "Harlee, I understand you're upset. Though you are no longer part of the Gill family, I found you a job in the countryside. If you work hard, you can support yourself." Adelina held up a recommendation letter, which Harlee glanced at. It was for a cleaning job at a motel in a small town. Adelina attempted to place the letter in Harlee's hands but accidentally knocked Harlee's bag to the floor, sending a small sketchbook tumbling out. The guests in the banquet hall spotted it, their eyes growing wide with disbelief. Everyone knew Adelina had recently been celebrated as a genius in fashion design. She always carried her sketchbook with her. Soon, she would become the creative director at the Gill family's fashion company. Adelina's face twisted in mock shock as she covered her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes. "Harlee, why do you have my sketchbook in your bag?" Harlee frowned, feeling annoyed. Once again, Adelina had set her up. "How could you steal Adelina's design sketches?" Averie's expression darkened, and she raised her voice at Harlee. "You cold-hearted thief! Were you trying to rob Adelina of her future? With those designs, you could get into any fashion company! You really have some nerve. You're just a thankless snake!" At the commotion, Liam frowned and walked over. "What's going on here?" Adelina's eyes filled with tears. "Mom, dad, please don't hold it against Harlee. She must have been reluctant to leave the Gill family and therefore did something desperate. It's fine. I can always come up with new designs." "Those designs are essential for you to take over as director! Our family depends on them, too! Harlee stealing them isn't just hurting you. She's putting our whole family at risk. She's just heartless. Stop trying to defend her!" Averie snapped, her voice dripping with anger. "Mom, I'm sure Harlee didn't mean to do it..." Adelina tugged at Averie's sleeve, her voice sounding calm and compassionate. Adelina then turned to Harlee. "Harlee, I know you're afraid of having nothing once you leave the Gill family, but I can't let you keep these sketches. Yet, I will help you get a job at a clothing factory in your hometown. Please work hard and no more thieving. Just stop these sneaky tricks, okay?" The bystanders couldn't help but watch the scene unfold, each of them praising Adelina. "Adelina is simply amazing. She's not only gifted in design but also incredibly magnanimous. She's a true Gill all the way." "What's the use of stealing Adelina's sketches? Does Harlee even know how to design? She's just trying to grab what doesn't belong to her. How could she stoop to this low?" "Everyone knows how much Adelina values her designs. Even with her future at stake, she still defends Harlee. Adelina is way too kind, while Harlee is just vicious!" Amid the guests' praises, Adelina raised her head, looking gentle and virtuous. "After all, Harlee was once part of the Gill family. If I can help her, I will." The guests kept on voicing their thoughts, their opinions of Harlee sinking while their admiration for Adelina grew. They noted that while Adelina might not have been as stunning, her heart was far kinder than Harlee's. Harlee's eyes swept over the guests surrounding her. Most of them appeared to watch the situation unfold with interest, more eager to voice their opinions than uncover the truth. Eventually, Harlee's gaze landed on Adelina, who donned a smug face. Harlee had actually gone through this particular sketchbook. On Adelina's very first day back home, she had taken it out during dinner, sketching dramatically in front of everyone, eager to show off her talent for fashion design. Not satisfied yet, Adelina aimed to boost her own reputation as a design genius by misleading the guests into believing Harlee had stolen her sketchbook. Harlee scoffed. Did Adelina really not see who she was imitating, or was she just that foolish? Adelina's sketchbook held over two hundred designs, but the funniest thing was that the fifty best ones were outright copies of the latest collections from top brands. Adelina had taken beautiful, high-end designs and twisted them into complicated, tasteless mixtures, robbing them of their original grace and simplicity. Instead of couture, it resembled homework wrapped up in haste from some design major students. Worse, Harlee even spotted some of her own designs that she had previously shared online. Clearly, Adelina had been living in a fantasy for so long that she might have started to believe herself to be a design genius. Harlee's lips curled into a sarcastic smile, and her intense gaze locked onto Adelina, seeing through her antics. At Harlee's charming smile, an unshakeable feeling of unease washed over Adelina. ...... How will Harlee fight back? Can Harlee successfully find her biological parents? What happens next? 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| 2681477 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 5/4/25, 10:08 PM | 1738828443 | 1746414537 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | VIDEO | Read next chapter | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=157725&accid=7929461117168105&exdata=C53DCDAE4F2816FF73B80B7FD75111F1820B6099F028C808 | 3.7558525564194E+14 | Fun Novels | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475837266_1083015270179769_887421796103557623_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=pQScoGduW78Q7kNvgExv6LK&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYCUAMfzqYsWmBR3mavjPCP3W5TqaSQPq6BASdIEGMvz7g&oe=67AA2EFF | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | After two crazy years, she decided to let go and return him to his first love. But he refused to let her go. "Don't leave me. Tomorrow's engagement is with you!" ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi**ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his b*dmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my b*d, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red m*rk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my b*d too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You b**ch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame gr*aning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &4& | Fun Novels | 2477 | https://www.facebook.com/61563251196448/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681491 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/12/25, 6:29 PM | 1738828443 | 1749770954 | 2478 | TEXT | 5.3255566660915E+14 | Darlena ThePoet | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476205977_1279922573119295_424151624178217771_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=0oF9jdl7ckkQ7kNvgF0faxN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYBL_NVwHy-x36hGfNtlIeeAxjpc9XvtaR4Im2FMAV2akg&oe=67AA4CB7 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Could Have, Would Have, Should Have As I was going to the market I saw a child with bare feet I could have given him some shoes Why was he walking in the street? There was an old lady standing on the corner She didn’t have a dime I would have offered her some money But I didn’t have much time Another woman was being robbed Why was she alone? I should have called the cops But I had TIK TOK my phone I was at the market in line with my items A little girl couldn’t pay for her hash I could have given her a few bucks But I work too hard for my cash! I didn’t want to give at the mission And they had the nerve to ask me “why” I would have given them some money But there’s so much that I want to buy I should have prayed for my friends And whoever else that I did see But while I’d be praying for them Who would be praying for me? I noticed in a parking lot That a woman’s car wouldn’t start I could have given her a jump But I didn’t have the heart I saw a child being chased By a big old dog in the park I should have done something to help But it was getting kind of dark When I was driving home My car ran out of gas Many could have come to my rescue But they kept on driving past I decided to walk to the station It was very cold that day Maybe someone would give me a hand Somewhere along the way There were many who could help I could see it in their eye But no one would stop They just kept on driving by I died out there that night I wasn’t wearing warm clothes And it was so cold That my whole body froze I wonder if I would have helped others If I would’ve had the same fate I could have, should have, would have But now it is too late. By Darlena X, Darlena ThePoet | Darlena ThePoet | 360 | https://www.facebook.com/darlenathepoet/ | 0 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681494 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/11/25, 5:26 AM | 1738828444 | 1749637611 | 2478 | https://www.instagram.com | Learn more | VIDEO | If you experience tingling, burning, or sharp sensations in your feet, it might be linked to your nerve health. Discover a simple and natural way to take care of it! | https://relieffornerves.online/news/ | 3.5776281831076E+14 | Emma Jones-Neuropathy | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475974778_1180164990108165_5863519388714791784_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=1cgVQzGiSP8Q7kNvgE2bT0x&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=AI2MUU60gqCj3U6bB0wLlfp&oh=00_AYDbBxG1hoKscC_EQmJVJGFynpd_0dWwT_Y2lJDj6Zr6Eg&oe=67AA3AB0 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Burning or Tingling in Your Feet? This Might Help! | Emma Jones-Neuropathy | 11458 | https://www.facebook.com/100063661036510/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681497 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/12/25, 7:58 PM | 1738828444 | 1749776309 | 2478 | lc.nicetipsandtricks.com | Learn more | VIDEO | Learn More... | https://lc.nicetipsandtricks.com/67926ca2744efe007fa2757d?sub1={{ad.id}}&sub2={{adset.id}}&sub3={{campaign.id}}&sub4={{ad.name}}&sub5={{adset.name}}&sub6={{campaign.name}}&sub7={{placement}}&sub8={{site_source_name}}&utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=paid | 5.165984015431E+14 | Synthia Wilson | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476107966_9571143789562895_1594948495791189394_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=3LiCUKJWkXEQ7kNvgGU7pGz&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=AI2MUU60gqCj3U6bB0wLlfp&oh=00_AYAamd1zy3iF4md8D19aQYjrRfGjlpjI6R6BE7OYIMTRSw&oe=67AA4A37 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | What people would say about it? Tingling, burning or that uncomfortable sensation in legs and feet? All should know this information. | Synthia Wilson | 9 | https://www.facebook.com/61572196872136/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681500 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/8/25, 7:29 AM | 1738828444 | 1749385796 | 2478 | fb.me | Learn More | DCO | $97 New Patient Exam Special! | Limited Spots! | http://fb.me/ | 1.0435438298556E+14 | Health First Chiropractic & Wellness | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476160261_1282382126179213_2225673587930112778_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=271wvwSyPzQQ7kNvgGB4PI0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=AI2MUU60gqCj3U6bB0wLlfp&oh=00_AYAOULrTef-N9xzLmEjlqOqVIlbQKEK8e0asI4Ban_oTBg&oe=67AA3179 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Our New Location is Open to Welcome New Patients, and for just $97, you can receive a FREE Pillow! The total value of this new patient offer is $397.00, but today, you get all of this for only $97. (Save $300!) This is an excellent opportunity for anyone seeking care for the mentioned conditions or aiming to enhance their overall health. We're extending this promotion to the first 12 individuals this month on a first-request basis, so act fast! | Health First Chiropractic & Wellness | 1502 | https://www.facebook.com/hfcwellness/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681506 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/6/25, 12:13 AM | 1738828444 | 1749186815 | 2478 | go.hfcwellness.com | Learn More | DCO | $97 New Patient Exam Special! | Limited Spots! | https://go.hfcwellness.com/97-new-patient-special-offer | 1.0435438298556E+14 | Health First Chiropractic & Wellness | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476298544_3207411696077469_1822420993889317595_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=W0PKW6Fkea8Q7kNvgHGtfCx&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=AI2MUU60gqCj3U6bB0wLlfp&oh=00_AYCmUHoLIYuQue7E8-qaKjrMG-jwLnNJafvWtXgnECwCYw&oe=67AA366A | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Looking For A Chiropractor? Voted BEST Chiropractor In Richmond For 2024 Due to our commitment to improving your quality of life. We use state-of-the-art computerized neurological scanning, digital imaging and tailored care programs. Our mission to help you live your best life ever, through energetic and inspired living, From newborns to seniors, there is no guesswork, With our advanced exam and adjustment techniques. Our Wellness online membership, Of recipes, nutrition and exercise Is included with every new patient. Live your BEST life ever, with Health First Chiropractic & Wellness, Check out our new, beautiful practice. Book your new patient initial exam for ONLY $97, And I'll give you a memory foam pillow. LEARN MORE HERE CLICK FOR YOUR $97 EXAM | Health First Chiropractic & Wellness | 1502 | https://www.facebook.com/hfcwellness/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681524 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/6/25, 12:30 AM | 1738828444 | 1749187803 | 2478 | instagram.com | Visit Instagram Profile | CAROUSEL | http://instagram.com/holistic.life.navigation | 1.0860254532487E+14 | Holistic Life Navigation | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476218629_593703370243327_243254967499396929_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ROpUT7KhAoYQ7kNvgGJOZCb&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=AI2MUU60gqCj3U6bB0wLlfp&oh=00_AYCBS3Y-nkndsFbhNJOqluDpqxoW2EE3CtbaUftCr6drfw&oe=67AA4F05 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Holistic Life Navigation | 5606 | https://www.facebook.com/holisticlifenavigation/ | 0 | VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681527 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/5/25, 10:17 PM | 1738828444 | 1749179863 | 2478 | instagram.com | Visit Instagram Profile | CAROUSEL | http://instagram.com/holistic.life.navigation | 1.0860254532487E+14 | Holistic Life Navigation | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476218629_593703370243327_243254967499396929_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ROpUT7KhAoYQ7kNvgGJOZCb&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=AI2MUU60gqCj3U6bB0wLlfp&oh=00_AYCBS3Y-nkndsFbhNJOqluDpqxoW2EE3CtbaUftCr6drfw&oe=67AA4F05 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Holistic Life Navigation | 5606 | https://www.facebook.com/holisticlifenavigation/ | 0 | VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681528 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/6/25, 5:05 AM | 1738828444 | 1749204325 | 2478 | lc.newtrandinghit.com | Learn more | VIDEO | Tap to learn more | https://lc.newtrandinghit.com/6787f5d29cab447e739a7af4?sub1={{ad.id}}&sub2={{adset.id}}&sub3={{campaign.id}}&sub4={{ad.name}}&sub5={{adset.name}}&sub6={{campaign.name}}&sub7={{placement}}&sub8={{site_source_name}}&utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=paid | 5.3701560616203E+14 | Jane Believeau | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476000584_1172273027948555_142181245345551351_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=mGDuAPXMk5UQ7kNvgH4iu0O&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=AI2MUU60gqCj3U6bB0wLlfp&oh=00_AYDBVWuVY5EGK5-BYxJAfzaiLALo5GmkWfIzMjAOvtCjzg&oe=67AA5448 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Why do some people hit 50 without discomfort while others struggle with Neuropathy problems? | Jane Believeau | 23 | https://www.facebook.com/61571844741933/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681545 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/6/25, 9:35 PM | 1738828445 | 1749263705 | 2478 | instagram.com | Visit Instagram Profile | CAROUSEL | http://instagram.com/bobbinorg | 5.8304007154961E+14 | bobbinorg | https://scontent.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-19/475340310_965945565470381_6850355275952298701_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s206x206_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=525117&_nc_ohc=b0pGNyZgBYsQ7kNvgG_Hde6&_nc_zt=24&_nc_ht=scontent.cdninstagram.com&oh=00_AYABHIjsQnNqkANni-u39eXf_q8Z9OzDDN21pssdcJb8FA&oe=67AA2EBC | IG_ADS_IDENTITY | 1 | 0 | bobbinorg | 0 | https://www.instagram.com/_u/bobbinorg | 0 | VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681550 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/5/25, 11:24 PM | 1738828445 | 1749183849 | 2478 | Call now | IMAGE | Reyna Chiropractic Clinic | Welcome to your chiropractor in Fresno! | 6.0763528926280E+14 | Reyna Chiropractic Clinic | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475891844_882914100454828_4115041402794071377_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=EXKX52YatRMQ7kNvgFcPZmb&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYDMPzHnBKcTbWA5t6yRHSkTJ2KWT4h9JGcFjIsKPWlCTw&oe=67AA2387 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Spinal Column Injuries- Injuries to the spinal column can cause chronic pain and significantly reduce a persons quality of life. Injuries can cause herniated disc, nerve damage, vertebrae fractures , and soft tissue damage. | Reyna Chiropractic Clinic | 487 | https://www.facebook.com/ReynaChiropracticClinic/ | 0 | CALL_NOW | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681557 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/5/25, 9:17 PM | 1738828445 | 1749176257 | 2478 | instagram.com | Visit Instagram Profile | CAROUSEL | http://instagram.com/faith_frequency | 2.6514133002477E+14 | faith_frequency | https://scontent.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-19/469993281_1061871352403300_2467752809544372144_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s206x206_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=525117&_nc_ohc=PuBWfKULWAcQ7kNvgFoeyJH&_nc_zt=24&_nc_ht=scontent.cdninstagram.com&oh=00_AYDVhfCIjERCes-hIRBol-CquKSxI2GqNlFIMak2r5TPEg&oe=67AA5473 | IG_ADS_IDENTITY | 1 | 0 | faith_frequency | 0 | https://www.instagram.com/_u/faith_frequency | 0 | VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681558 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/6/25, 1:09 AM | 1738828445 | 1749190159 | 2478 | instagram.com | Visit Instagram Profile | CAROUSEL | http://instagram.com/faith_frequency | 2.6514133002477E+14 | faith_frequency | https://scontent.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-19/469993281_1061871352403300_2467752809544372144_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s206x206_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=525117&_nc_ohc=PuBWfKULWAcQ7kNvgFoeyJH&_nc_zt=24&_nc_ht=scontent.cdninstagram.com&oh=00_AYDVhfCIjERCes-hIRBol-CquKSxI2GqNlFIMak2r5TPEg&oe=67AA5473 | IG_ADS_IDENTITY | 1 | 0 | faith_frequency | 0 | https://www.instagram.com/_u/faith_frequency | 0 | VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681561 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/6/25, 10:27 PM | 1738828445 | 1749266856 | 2478 | instagram.com | Visit Instagram Profile | CAROUSEL | http://instagram.com/faith_frequency | 2.6514133002477E+14 | faith_frequency | https://scontent.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-19/469993281_1061871352403300_2467752809544372144_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s206x206_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=525117&_nc_ohc=PuBWfKULWAcQ7kNvgFoeyJH&_nc_zt=24&_nc_ht=scontent.cdninstagram.com&oh=00_AYDVhfCIjERCes-hIRBol-CquKSxI2GqNlFIMak2r5TPEg&oe=67AA5473 | IG_ADS_IDENTITY | 1 | 0 | faith_frequency | 0 | https://www.instagram.com/_u/faith_frequency | 0 | VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681563 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/5/25, 6:55 PM | 1738828445 | 1749167752 | 2478 | totalmotioneducation.com | Learn More | CAROUSEL | https://www.totalmotioneducation.com/instanttraining/?utm_source=FB&utm_medium=%7B%7Badset.name%7D%7D&utm_campaign=%7B%7Bcampaign.name%7D%7D&utm_content=%7B%7Bad.name%7D%7D&utm_term=%7B%7Bad.id%7D%7D | 99550178243 | Total Motion Release | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476357520_1297098381435586_3713447851943171373_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=6hL_NozRu8MQ7kNvgH7gUUI&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYCnN1y_H78ckYK-Dke3fEg7jp1ZQDMFPbzoBSL-Ts7uEw&oe=67AA38DA | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Total Motion Release | 2013 | https://www.facebook.com/tmrseminars/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681567 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/6/25, 8:31 AM | 1738828445 | 1749216712 | 2478 | totalmotioneducation.com | Learn More | CAROUSEL | https://www.totalmotioneducation.com/instanttraining/?utm_source=FB&utm_medium=%7B%7Badset.name%7D%7D&utm_campaign=%7B%7Bcampaign.name%7D%7D&utm_content=%7B%7Bad.name%7D%7D&utm_term=%7B%7Bad.id%7D%7D | 99550178243 | Total Motion Release | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476357520_1297098381435586_3713447851943171373_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=6hL_NozRu8MQ7kNvgH7gUUI&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYCnN1y_H78ckYK-Dke3fEg7jp1ZQDMFPbzoBSL-Ts7uEw&oe=67AA38DA | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Total Motion Release | 2013 | https://www.facebook.com/tmrseminars/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681569 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 5/3/25, 1:02 AM | 1738828445 | 1746252159 | 2478 | No button | IMAGE | 2.2361432750296E+14 | Simple Earth Rebel | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476073153_1140930573752883_3066081181448085434_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=3HNpCsZuJyQQ7kNvgHB70yA&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYBWQksmQBHIHPZPZ0hA5jDaaKWebNWJj9m5INRS0mJCsQ&oe=67AA3D3E | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Ayurveda: An Integrative Pathway to Holistic Healing Ayurveda, an ancient Indian system of medicine, continues to attract global attention due to its comprehensive approach to healing. Rooted in ancient texts such as the Charaka Samhita and Sushruta Samhita, Ayurveda offers a blend of physical, mental, and spiritual modalities aimed at restoring balance within the human body. Its relevance today is bolstered by growing interest in integrative medicine, where traditional knowledge converges with scientific evidence. Historical and Geographical Perspectives Ayurveda, meaning "science of life," originated over 5,000 years ago in the Indian subcontinent. It developed through oral traditions and was documented in the Vedic scriptures, which provided guidance on diet, lifestyle, and disease prevention. Over centuries, Ayurveda spread to other regions, influencing traditional medical systems in Tibet, China, and Southeast Asia. The diversity of ecosystems in India, from the Himalayas to coastal plains, enriched the pharmacological base of Ayurveda by enabling the discovery of thousands of medicinal plants such as Ashwagandha (Withania somnifera) and Turmeric (Curcuma longa). Ancient practitioners adapted treatments to varying climates and cultural contexts, a practice that modern Ayurveda continues by integrating regional biodiversity into its methods. The Five Elements and the Doshas Central to Ayurveda’s philosophical framework is the theory of the five great elements (Pancha Mahabhutas): Space (Akasha), Air (Vayu), Fire (Agni), Water (Jala), and Earth (Prithvi). These elements form the basis of all matter and life processes. Each element is associated with specific qualities—space signifies expansiveness, air governs movement, fire represents transformation, water relates to cohesion and fluidity, and earth symbolizes stability. The balance or imbalance of these elements within the body affects health and well-being. The five elements combine to form the three doshas—Vata, Pitta, and Kapha—which regulate bodily functions. Vata (Air and Space): Governs movement, including respiration, circulation, and nerve impulses. Individuals with a dominant Vata constitution often display creativity, agility, and sensitivity but may suffer from anxiety, dry skin, and digestive issues if imbalanced. Pitta (Fire and Water): Responsible for transformation and metabolism, including digestion, absorption, and body temperature. Those with a Pitta constitution tend to be ambitious, focused, and energetic, though they are prone to anger, inflammation, and acid reflux when out of balance. Kapha (Water and Earth): Controls structure, lubrication, and stability, influencing physical growth, immunity, and emotional calmness. A balanced Kapha individual exhibits patience and strength but may experience lethargy, weight gain, and sinus congestion when imbalanced. These doshas are dynamic, fluctuating with changes in environment, diet, and lifestyle. Ayurveda seeks to harmonize the doshas by aligning internal processes with the external world, emphasizing the interconnectedness of all life forms and elements. Modalities and Treatment Approaches Ayurveda employs a variety of therapeutic modalities, including herbal medicine, dietary modifications, detoxification programs, and yoga. Key treatments are based on maintaining the equilibrium of the five elements and the three doshas. Therapies such as Panchakarma (a detoxification regimen) target the removal of toxins (ama) from the body, helping to restore elemental balance. Rejuvenation practices known as Rasayana aim to increase Ojas—the vital life essence—through restorative measures such as herbal tonics, meditation, and mindful eating. Dietary interventions are tailored to individual dosha imbalances, emphasizing the need for balance between the elemental properties of foods. For instance, a Vata imbalance, characterized by excess dryness and movement, might benefit from warm, oily, and grounding foods rich in the earth and water elements. Similarly, a Pitta imbalance, with excess heat and intensity, may be mitigated by cooling and hydrating foods with water and space qualities. Mind-body techniques, including pranayama (breathing exercises) and meditation, serve to regulate the elemental forces within the body. Pranayama enhances the flow of Prana (life force), particularly air and space, thereby calming the mind and improving vitality. Philosophical and Scientific Foundations Ayurveda’s philosophical underpinnings are drawn from the Samkhya system, which describes existence as a dual interplay between consciousness (Purusha) and matter (Prakriti). Health arises when the five elements within Prakriti are in harmonious interaction. Ayurveda’s systems-based approach emphasizes homeostasis across multiple layers of human functioning—physical, emotional, and spiritual. This holistic model finds resonance with contemporary science, particularly in areas such as psychosomatic medicine, the gut-brain axis, and chronic disease prevention. Modern research on herbal compounds, such as the anti-inflammatory properties of Curcuma longa, validates Ayurvedic insights on how the elements within herbs interact synergistically to promote healing. Additionally, concepts of dynamic balance, central to Ayurveda, align with scientific theories on adaptive self-regulation in complex biological systems. Metaphysical, Spiritual, and Quantum Perspectives In addition to its material concepts, Ayurveda recognizes subtle energetic principles such as Prana (vital energy), Tejas (inner radiance), and Ojas (life vitality). These principles relate to the elemental forces—Prana aligns with air and space, Tejas with fire, and Ojas with water and earth. Practices aimed at cultivating these energies, such as yoga and mantra chanting, serve to harmonize mind and body. Quantum biology, though still a developing field, offers an intriguing conceptual framework that supports these ancient ideas. Some researchers posit that quantum coherence within biological systems—manifested as synchronized molecular vibrations—may explain how Ayurvedic therapies influence cellular function and healing. In quantum terms, living organisms are viewed as open systems where vibrational frequencies regulate biological processes, much like Ayurvedic descriptions of the subtle energies governing health. Vibrational healing techniques, such as sound therapy and meditation, may enhance quantum coherence by stabilizing the flow of Prana. Additionally, the body's capacity for self-regulation—central to both Ayurveda and quantum biology—could be linked to mechanisms involving quantum entanglement and the body's electromagnetic fields. Moreover, scientific exploration of non-linear dynamics and bioenergetics shows parallels with Ayurvedic concepts of interconnectedness between elements and doshas. By balancing these forces through therapeutic interventions, Ayurveda may promote not only biochemical harmony but also quantum-level synchronization that supports overall health and longevity. Evidence-Based Approaches and Statistical Insights A growing number of randomized controlled trials (RCTs) are evaluating Ayurvedic interventions, highlighting their potential as evidence-based therapies. Research on Ashwagandha demonstrates statistically significant improvements in anxiety, cortisol regulation, and sleep quality. A 2022 meta-analysis involving over 1,500 participants reported an average reduction in anxiety symptoms by 23% compared to controls. Similarly, clinical studies on Triphala reveal its role in improving digestive health and reducing oxidative stress. Ayurveda’s personalized approach, which classifies individuals according to Prakriti (constitution), offers a parallel to precision medicine’s focus on genetic and biochemical variability. Large-scale studies on populations practicing Ayurvedic lifestyles show lower rates of metabolic syndrome, supporting the preventive efficacy of balancing elemental forces through diet, exercise, and detoxification. Cutting-Edge Research and Future Directions Recent advancements in genomics and systems biology are enhancing the scientific understanding of Ayurvedic principles. For example, metabolomic studies have shown that herbal formulations such as Guduchi (Tinospora cordifolia) can modulate inflammatory cytokines, providing a molecular basis for its use in autoimmune disorders. Collaborative research between Ayurvedic scholars and biomedical scientists is identifying biomarkers that correlate with dosha imbalances, paving the way for integrative diagnostics. In addition, AI-based models are being developed to analyze Ayurvedic treatment outcomes, offering insights into the efficacy of personalized interventions. These technologies are expected to bridge traditional knowledge with modern research methodologies, ensuring that Ayurveda remains a cornerstone of integrative healthcare. Ayurveda stands at the intersection of tradition and innovation, offering a comprehensive pathway to health through the harmonization of the five elements and three doshas. Its blend of preventive, curative, and spiritual approaches is increasingly validated by scientific research, positioning Ayurveda as a critical component of global healthcare. By embracing both ancient wisdom and cutting-edge science, Ayurveda continues to provide sustainable solutions for holistic well-being. References Sharma, P. V. (2001). Charaka Samhita: Text with English Translation. Chaukhambha Orientalia. Jaiswal, Y., & Williams, L. L. (2017). A glimpse of Ayurveda – The forgotten history and principles of Indian traditional medicine. Journal of Traditional and Complementary Medicine, 7(1), 50-53. Esposito, M. et al. (2022). A systematic review on the clinical efficacy of Ashwagandha. Frontiers in Psychiatry, 13, 1014. Aggarwal, B. B., & Yuan, W. (2014). Curcumin and its role in chronic diseases. Advances in Experimental Medicine and Biology, 789, 1-11. | Simple Earth Rebel | 9 | https://www.facebook.com/61556081945648/ | 0 | NO_BUTTON | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681575 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/12/25, 1:49 PM | 1738828445 | 1749754174 | 2478 | arialief.digital | Watch More | DCO | Simplicity in Daily Routine. | More than 22.398 people have viewed it. | https://www.arialief.digital/ | 5.3309933322672E+14 | Pietra De Souza | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475978497_983859280310594_6587331114812399550_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=tZvMWk1QBigQ7kNvgGDWkt5&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYAeUO9vnebMIO0qN0FFcsYxggkxGc-09r2HjmkyTwqIQw&oe=67AA577F | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | The yellow vitamin that supports balance and simplifies daily.😍 | Pietra De Souza | 2 | https://www.facebook.com/61572313935891/ | 0 | WATCH_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681581 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 5/3/25, 6:04 AM | 1738828445 | 1746270242 | 2478 | arialief.digital | Learn More | DCO | Yellow Vitamin Simplified | A balanced approach designed for daily comfort. | https://www.arialief.digital/ | 5.3309933322672E+14 | Pietra De Souza | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476236526_602730209388703_6133086950474658256_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=isRflpmuimgQ7kNvgGq3cSK&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYDMONcnKq92tNNVasgGtQ12c5oQK0pSYwRaIQKDJojdLA&oe=67AA3EAA | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | With a carefully developed composition, the yellow vitamin is part of a simple and balanced daily care. | Pietra De Souza | 2 | https://www.facebook.com/61572313935891/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| 2681585 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 3/3/25, 3:16 AM | 1738828445 | 1740993385 | 2478 | arialief.digital | Learn More | DCO | Yellow Vitamin Simplified | A balanced approach designed for daily comfort. | https://www.arialief.digital/ | 5.3309933322672E+14 | Pietra De Souza | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476236526_602730209388703_6133086950474658256_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=isRflpmuimgQ7kNvgGq3cSK&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYDMONcnKq92tNNVasgGtQ12c5oQK0pSYwRaIQKDJojdLA&oe=67AA3EAA | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | With a carefully developed composition, the yellow vitamin is part of a simple and balanced daily care. | Pietra De Souza | 2 | https://www.facebook.com/61572313935891/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| 2681586 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 3/3/25, 3:16 AM | 1738828445 | 1740993385 | 2478 | arialief.digital | Learn More | DCO | Yellow Vitamin Simplified | A balanced approach designed for daily comfort. | https://www.arialief.digital/ | 5.3309933322672E+14 | Pietra De Souza | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475835266_1185676752995061_7124251255540415593_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=VLVc30kmBtQQ7kNvgE5e0sV&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYBfO6bjQNJBOs69U-7HtoRcJhtCMnLkVnNjsMaspzgPfw&oe=67AA2A85 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | With a carefully developed composition, the yellow vitamin is part of a simple and balanced daily care. | Pietra De Souza | 2 | https://www.facebook.com/61572313935891/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681590 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/13/25, 5:57 AM | 1738828445 | 1749812245 | 2478 | arialief.digital | Learn More | DCO | Yellow Vitamin Simplified | A balanced approach designed for daily comfort. | https://www.arialief.digital/ | 5.3309933322672E+14 | Pietra De Souza | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475835266_1185676752995061_7124251255540415593_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=VLVc30kmBtQQ7kNvgE5e0sV&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYBfO6bjQNJBOs69U-7HtoRcJhtCMnLkVnNjsMaspzgPfw&oe=67AA2A85 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | With a carefully developed composition, the yellow vitamin is part of a simple and balanced daily care. | Pietra De Souza | 2 | https://www.facebook.com/61572313935891/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681592 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 3/3/25, 3:16 AM | 1738828445 | 1740993385 | 2478 | arialief.digital | Learn More | DCO | Yellow Vitamin Simplified | A balanced approach designed for daily comfort. | https://www.arialief.digital/ | 5.3309933322672E+14 | Pietra De Souza | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475835266_1185676752995061_7124251255540415593_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=VLVc30kmBtQQ7kNvgE5e0sV&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYBfO6bjQNJBOs69U-7HtoRcJhtCMnLkVnNjsMaspzgPfw&oe=67AA2A85 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | With a carefully developed composition, the yellow vitamin is part of a simple and balanced daily care. | Pietra De Souza | 2 | https://www.facebook.com/61572313935891/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681595 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/13/25, 8:27 PM | 1738828446 | 1749864473 | 2478 | arialief.digital | Learn More | DCO | Yellow Vitamin Simplified | A balanced approach designed for daily comfort. | https://www.arialief.digital/ | 5.3309933322672E+14 | Pietra De Souza | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476230666_451386417931962_433010422203689701_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=MqPL5gz2r7YQ7kNvgEitRLA&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYA-DdHu6pBoMnVq2lzCDiWyU2Zqw7-kKLZYYvQWQ0tkHA&oe=67AA2DA4 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Simple, balanced, and essential: the yellow vitamin for our daily care. | Pietra De Souza | 2 | https://www.facebook.com/61572313935891/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681593 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/14/25, 12:19 AM | 1738828445 | 1749878377 | 2478 | arialief.digital | Learn More | DCO | Yellow Vitamin Simplified | A balanced approach designed for daily comfort. | https://www.arialief.digital/ | 5.3309933322672E+14 | Pietra De Souza | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476230666_451386417931962_433010422203689701_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=MqPL5gz2r7YQ7kNvgEitRLA&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYA-DdHu6pBoMnVq2lzCDiWyU2Zqw7-kKLZYYvQWQ0tkHA&oe=67AA2DA4 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Simple, balanced, and essential: the yellow vitamin for our daily care. | Pietra De Souza | 2 | https://www.facebook.com/61572313935891/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681598 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/9/25, 4:07 PM | 1738828446 | 1749503277 | 2478 | arialief.digital | Learn More | DCO | Yellow Vitamin Simplified | A balanced approach designed for daily comfort. | https://www.arialief.digital/ | 5.3309933322672E+14 | Pietra De Souza | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476230666_451386417931962_433010422203689701_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=MqPL5gz2r7YQ7kNvgEitRLA&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYA-DdHu6pBoMnVq2lzCDiWyU2Zqw7-kKLZYYvQWQ0tkHA&oe=67AA2DA4 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Simple, balanced, and essential: the yellow vitamin for our daily care. | Pietra De Souza | 2 | https://www.facebook.com/61572313935891/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681574 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/11/25, 7:25 PM | 1738828445 | 1749687925 | 2478 | arialief.digital | Watch More | DCO | Simplicity in Daily Routine. | More than 22.398 people have viewed it. | https://www.arialief.digital/ | 5.3309933322672E+14 | Pietra De Souza | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475978497_983859280310594_6587331114812399550_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=tZvMWk1QBigQ7kNvgGDWkt5&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYAeUO9vnebMIO0qN0FFcsYxggkxGc-09r2HjmkyTwqIQw&oe=67AA577F | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | The yellow vitamin that supports balance and simplifies daily.😍 | Pietra De Souza | 2 | https://www.facebook.com/61572313935891/ | 0 | WATCH_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681492 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/11/25, 7:51 PM | 1738828443 | 1749689468 | 2478 | fb.dramabox.com | Watch more | VIDEO | please click to watch more episodes！ | https://fb.dramabox.com/db_land_page/DALPF1051688.html?language=en×tamp=1738812697603&channelCode=DALPF1051688&bid=41000110123&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}} | 1.4866378499541E+14 | DramaBox- movies&drama | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476434273_628141616256070_8677358704660002620_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=wPLBGjuc1BcQ7kNvgGjk5ah&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=AI2MUU60gqCj3U6bB0wLlfp&oh=00_AYCuEz5Icxs1bPmo-ASL9FjgSHE5-xiDNxxnehiFJmQIVg&oe=67AA20AB | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Lance West generously supports his girlfriend, Lara Olson, throughout her academic journey. Thanks to his financial assistance, she successfully graduates and attains significant financial success, earning tens of millions annually. Despite Lance's unwavering support, Lara callously severs their relationship, citing the gap in their social statuses. However, in the wake of this heartbreak, fate intervenes. | DramaBox- movies&drama | 8924929 | https://www.facebook.com/DramaBoxMoviesDrama/ | 0 | WATCH_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681482 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/3/25, 10:40 AM | 1738828443 | 1748965252 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | VIDEO | Read next chapter | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65237322-fb_contact-enj94_2-1207-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=157725&accid=304554039400649&exdata=1900C7F11000345318488B3A3B6080EE4EA4D2AB93345E59 | 3.7558525564194E+14 | Fun Novels | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475961317_3863582647292027_7408880416199278849_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=pad-VCa5vTMQ7kNvgGTGZcV&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYDnZWBFrxwUvXYNNGmJBCPhEB0IRFEYdTEpvdu863aKhQ&oe=67AA4EFE | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | The family was happy that the real daughter had returned. As she prepared to leave, the real daughter accused her of copying her designs. Everyone expected her to be humiliated, but unexpectedly, she stunned everyone by revealing her ownership of billion-dollar design patents, striking back and turning the tables. ===== "Take this for your journey. You're set on returning to your original family, and I won't hold you back. It is just that the place you're headed is impoverished and I doubt anyone will even be there to greet you..." Liam Gill, whom Harlee Sanderson had addressed as dad for years, pressed a few hundred-dollar bills into her hand. Downstairs at the Gill family villa, a spirited celebration filled the hall, while upstairs, Harlee quietly folded her clothes into her suitcase. Liam sighed. Just three days earlier, Adelina Gill had shown up holding a DNA report, proving she was his biological daughter. The revelation had sent the entire Gill family into turmoil. Follow-up tests had confirmed that Harlee, the girl who'd been part of their family for years, was not related to them by bl**d. Now that Adelina had returned, the Gills poured all their affection on her, making up for lost time. They treated her like a treasure, eager to erase the suffering she'd endured over the years. Meanwhile, Harlee's last name had been changed that very night. Liam quickly dispatched people to the countryside to locate her real parents. So far, there had been no replies. Today was all about Adelina. The festivities focused on welcoming her as the genuine daughter of the Gill family. "You have such soft skin, and these clothes have been selected with care..." Liam said softly, feeling mixed emotions as he helped Harlee sort through her wardrobe. "You should take these outfits. They're high quality. But when you go back to the countryside, I suppose..." According to the hospital, Harlee's biological parents had visited Adenarora when she was born. They left the next day and returned to their small village. To make matters worse, her parents lived in Osemery's notorious slums, a place infamous for its poverty and crime, where people were often unfriendly and violence was common. Liam surmised Harlee's future there didn't look bright. She wouldn't just lose the luxury she was used to. It seemed, soon enough, she'd be given in marriage to some country bumpkin without any say in the matter. Harlee looked at the cash Liam had pressed into her hand with a blank face. She set the money down on the bedside table. "I'm heading out now." After saying this, Harlee grabbed her suitcase and walked past the people loitering in the hallway. She moved on without glancing back. Averie Gill, Liam's wife, frowned with disdain. "What's with that attitude? Is she upset because it's not enough money for her? For God's sake, we've spent so much on her over the years, especially those beautiful, pricey clothes! How dare she act this way now? Humph! Once she walks out that door, the future ahead of her is nothing but dismal." "Mom, please don't take Harlee's attitude personally. It's only normal for her to be upset about losing her comfortable life abruptly. She's just throwing a little fit. There's no need to be mad at her," Adelina said softly, her tone filled with feigned concern. Adelina knew a bit about Harlee's background after the investigation. Harlee's biological parents were the poorest in the village with their family grave being defaced yet lacking money to fix it. Worse, Harlee's biological parents had five hungry sons, with a sick mother and a disabled father to care for. Harlee wasn't just returning to a rundown area. It was more like a nightmare. Adelina smiled gently, masking her glee. "I'll go say goodbye to Harlee." Once Harlee was out of sight, Liam let out a sigh and turned to Averie. "We raised her. She's leaving everything she's ever known. Don't be too harsh on her." "Harsh? Come on!" Averie shot back. "Her worthless parents might have switched babies on purpose to make our precious daughter suffer. Just thinking about it makes my blood boil. How could I possibly feel sorry for Harlee?" Harlee took the side exit, trying to steer clear of the banquet hall altogether. Adelina caught up with her, wearing a sugary smile. "Harlee, I really need to apologize about my thing with Collin. I know you were supposed to marry him, but he just fell head over heels for me." It felt less like an apology and more like a brag. Collin George came from a powerful family that matched the Gills. He had been engaged to Harlee, but now, with everything that had happened, the future bride had changed. "Collin has always been so sweet and caring. Honestly, I hate to flaunt our love in front of you, but he can't help it. Harlee, I hope this hasn't upset you too much," Adelina said, feigning concern. Harlee raised her eyebrows, wearing an indifferent smile. "Watching two f*ols date is hilarious. Why would I be upset?" Chapter 2 The Kind Real Daughter And The Vicious Fake One "Harlee!" Adelina shouted, her face bright red with anger. Harlee had just insulted her and Collin. Such audacity! Harlee's grin widened. "You and Collin are just perfect together. One kicks people when they're down, and the other follows the money." Adelina had just returned to the Gill family for only three days, and Collin appeared to be already smitten. Harlee found it all hilarious. Just as Adelina was about to lose her temper and hurl insults at Harlee, she noticed Averie coming down the stairs. In an instant, Adelina pressed her lips together, tears threatening to spill from her eyes as she adopted a pitiful expression. She quickly wiped away her fake tears. Averie took in the scene, her anger boiling over. She hurried over and yelled, "Harlee, it's unsurprising that your biological parents are impoverished rustic individuals. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Your lack of manners is quite apparent! You couldn't leave without taking one last jab at Adelina? Should I just throw you out?" "No manners? Maybe it's because that's the way you raised me," Harlee shot back, her smile dripping with sarcasm. Harlee had never met her real parents. When Averie claimed that Harlee lacked manners after so many years of living with the Gills, she was actually insulting the Gill family. Averie had never seen Harlee so sharp-tongued before. She pressed her hand to her chest, as if she might faint from anger. Adelina's eyes turned red, her face showing feigned concern. "Harlee, I understand you're upset. Though you are no longer part of the Gill family, I found you a job in the countryside. If you work hard, you can support yourself." Adelina held up a recommendation letter, which Harlee glanced at. It was for a cleaning job at a motel in a small town. Adelina attempted to place the letter in Harlee's hands but accidentally knocked Harlee's bag to the floor, sending a small sketchbook tumbling out. The guests in the banquet hall spotted it, their eyes growing wide with disbelief. Everyone knew Adelina had recently been celebrated as a genius in fashion design. She always carried her sketchbook with her. Soon, she would become the creative director at the Gill family's fashion company. Adelina's face twisted in mock shock as she covered her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes. "Harlee, why do you have my sketchbook in your bag?" Harlee frowned, feeling annoyed. Once again, Adelina had set her up. "How could you steal Adelina's design sketches?" Averie's expression darkened, and she raised her voice at Harlee. "You cold-hearted thief! Were you trying to rob Adelina of her future? With those designs, you could get into any fashion company! You really have some nerve. You're just a thankless snake!" At the commotion, Liam frowned and walked over. "What's going on here?" Adelina's eyes filled with tears. "Mom, dad, please don't hold it against Harlee. She must have been reluctant to leave the Gill family and therefore did something desperate. It's fine. I can always come up with new designs." "Those designs are essential for you to take over as director! Our family depends on them, too! Harlee stealing them isn't just hurting you. She's putting our whole family at risk. She's just heartless. Stop trying to defend her!" Averie snapped, her voice dripping with anger. "Mom, I'm sure Harlee didn't mean to do it..." Adelina tugged at Averie's sleeve, her voice sounding calm and compassionate. Adelina then turned to Harlee. "Harlee, I know you're afraid of having nothing once you leave the Gill family, but I can't let you keep these sketches. Yet, I will help you get a job at a clothing factory in your hometown. Please work hard and no more thieving. Just stop these sneaky tricks, okay?" The bystanders couldn't help but watch the scene unfold, each of them praising Adelina. "Adelina is simply amazing. She's not only gifted in design but also incredibly magnanimous. She's a true Gill all the way." "What's the use of stealing Adelina's sketches? Does Harlee even know how to design? She's just trying to grab what doesn't belong to her. How could she stoop to this low?" "Everyone knows how much Adelina values her designs. Even with her future at stake, she still defends Harlee. Adelina is way too kind, while Harlee is just vicious!" Amid the guests' praises, Adelina raised her head, looking gentle and virtuous. "After all, Harlee was once part of the Gill family. If I can help her, I will." The guests kept on voicing their thoughts, their opinions of Harlee sinking while their admiration for Adelina grew. They noted that while Adelina might not have been as stunning, her heart was far kinder than Harlee's. Harlee's eyes swept over the guests surrounding her. Most of them appeared to watch the situation unfold with interest, more eager to voice their opinions than uncover the truth. Eventually, Harlee's gaze landed on Adelina, who donned a smug face. Harlee had actually gone through this particular sketchbook. On Adelina's very first day back home, she had taken it out during dinner, sketching dramatically in front of everyone, eager to show off her talent for fashion design. Not satisfied yet, Adelina aimed to boost her own reputation as a design genius by misleading the guests into believing Harlee had stolen her sketchbook. Harlee scoffed. Did Adelina really not see who she was imitating, or was she just that foolish? Adelina's sketchbook held over two hundred designs, but the funniest thing was that the fifty best ones were outright copies of the latest collections from top brands. Adelina had taken beautiful, high-end designs and twisted them into complicated, tasteless mixtures, robbing them of their original grace and simplicity. Instead of couture, it resembled homework wrapped up in haste from some design major students. Worse, Harlee even spotted some of her own designs that she had previously shared online. Clearly, Adelina had been living in a fantasy for so long that she might have started to believe herself to be a design genius. Harlee's lips curled into a sarcastic smile, and her intense gaze locked onto Adelina, seeing through her antics. At Harlee's charming smile, an unshakeable feeling of unease washed over Adelina. ...... How will Harlee fight back? Can Harlee successfully find her biological parents? What happens next? 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| 2681465 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/11/25, 4:33 AM | 1738828443 | 1749634437 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | IMAGE | Read next chapter | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=1A6334CBF30555EA6DD03FE50A3F901069DA2AC1E568ECAB | 1.116928118368E+14 | Heat Novel A | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475955101_475796642055746_2381774539348003234_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=QGL--4jQQdQQ7kNvgFepet3&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYDEzgJMJ-0ZXa5n4yJHf58DKSykyrc4rnMYILHgMl_2og&oe=67AA3326 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi**ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his b*dmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my b*d, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red m*rk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my b*d too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You b**ch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame gr*aning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& | Heat Novel A | 596 | https://www.facebook.com/100089743291944/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681471 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/12/25, 2:34 AM | 1738828443 | 1749713690 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | VIDEO | Read next chapter | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65237322-fb_contact-enj94_2-1207-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=157725&accid=304554039400649&exdata=1900C7F110003453FC88558AE66065103B9A30C325676FAD | 3.7558525564194E+14 | Fun Novels | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475791122_1137141067566565_1590044057796473332_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nhP9YMCGiocQ7kNvgFKjITR&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYCB-TFyJpPRBf6l7sSs2sFFYFNQUM2VL5ckjGMmtbjNkQ&oe=67AA40B3 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | The family was happy that the real daughter had returned. As she prepared to leave, the real daughter accused her of copying her designs. Everyone expected her to be humiliated, but unexpectedly, she stunned everyone by revealing her ownership of billion-dollar design patents, striking back and turning the tables. ===== "Take this for your journey. You're set on returning to your original family, and I won't hold you back. It is just that the place you're headed is impoverished and I doubt anyone will even be there to greet you..." Liam Gill, whom Harlee Sanderson had addressed as dad for years, pressed a few hundred-dollar bills into her hand. Downstairs at the Gill family villa, a spirited celebration filled the hall, while upstairs, Harlee quietly folded her clothes into her suitcase. Liam sighed. Just three days earlier, Adelina Gill had shown up holding a DNA report, proving she was his biological daughter. The revelation had sent the entire Gill family into turmoil. Follow-up tests had confirmed that Harlee, the girl who'd been part of their family for years, was not related to them by bl**d. Now that Adelina had returned, the Gills poured all their affection on her, making up for lost time. They treated her like a treasure, eager to erase the suffering she'd endured over the years. Meanwhile, Harlee's last name had been changed that very night. Liam quickly dispatched people to the countryside to locate her real parents. So far, there had been no replies. Today was all about Adelina. The festivities focused on welcoming her as the genuine daughter of the Gill family. "You have such soft skin, and these clothes have been selected with care..." Liam said softly, feeling mixed emotions as he helped Harlee sort through her wardrobe. "You should take these outfits. They're high quality. But when you go back to the countryside, I suppose..." According to the hospital, Harlee's biological parents had visited Adenarora when she was born. They left the next day and returned to their small village. To make matters worse, her parents lived in Osemery's notorious slums, a place infamous for its poverty and crime, where people were often unfriendly and violence was common. Liam surmised Harlee's future there didn't look bright. She wouldn't just lose the luxury she was used to. It seemed, soon enough, she'd be given in marriage to some country bumpkin without any say in the matter. Harlee looked at the cash Liam had pressed into her hand with a blank face. She set the money down on the bedside table. "I'm heading out now." After saying this, Harlee grabbed her suitcase and walked past the people loitering in the hallway. She moved on without glancing back. Averie Gill, Liam's wife, frowned with disdain. "What's with that attitude? Is she upset because it's not enough money for her? For God's sake, we've spent so much on her over the years, especially those beautiful, pricey clothes! How dare she act this way now? Humph! Once she walks out that door, the future ahead of her is nothing but dismal." "Mom, please don't take Harlee's attitude personally. It's only normal for her to be upset about losing her comfortable life abruptly. She's just throwing a little fit. There's no need to be mad at her," Adelina said softly, her tone filled with feigned concern. Adelina knew a bit about Harlee's background after the investigation. Harlee's biological parents were the poorest in the village with their family grave being defaced yet lacking money to fix it. Worse, Harlee's biological parents had five hungry sons, with a sick mother and a disabled father to care for. Harlee wasn't just returning to a rundown area. It was more like a nightmare. Adelina smiled gently, masking her glee. "I'll go say goodbye to Harlee." Once Harlee was out of sight, Liam let out a sigh and turned to Averie. "We raised her. She's leaving everything she's ever known. Don't be too harsh on her." "Harsh? Come on!" Averie shot back. "Her worthless parents might have switched babies on purpose to make our precious daughter suffer. Just thinking about it makes my blood boil. How could I possibly feel sorry for Harlee?" Harlee took the side exit, trying to steer clear of the banquet hall altogether. Adelina caught up with her, wearing a sugary smile. "Harlee, I really need to apologize about my thing with Collin. I know you were supposed to marry him, but he just fell head over heels for me." It felt less like an apology and more like a brag. Collin George came from a powerful family that matched the Gills. He had been engaged to Harlee, but now, with everything that had happened, the future bride had changed. "Collin has always been so sweet and caring. Honestly, I hate to flaunt our love in front of you, but he can't help it. Harlee, I hope this hasn't upset you too much," Adelina said, feigning concern. Harlee raised her eyebrows, wearing an indifferent smile. "Watching two f*ols date is hilarious. Why would I be upset?" Chapter 2 The Kind Real Daughter And The Vicious Fake One "Harlee!" Adelina shouted, her face bright red with anger. Harlee had just insulted her and Collin. Such audacity! Harlee's grin widened. "You and Collin are just perfect together. One kicks people when they're down, and the other follows the money." Adelina had just returned to the Gill family for only three days, and Collin appeared to be already smitten. Harlee found it all hilarious. Just as Adelina was about to lose her temper and hurl insults at Harlee, she noticed Averie coming down the stairs. In an instant, Adelina pressed her lips together, tears threatening to spill from her eyes as she adopted a pitiful expression. She quickly wiped away her fake tears. Averie took in the scene, her anger boiling over. She hurried over and yelled, "Harlee, it's unsurprising that your biological parents are impoverished rustic individuals. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Your lack of manners is quite apparent! You couldn't leave without taking one last jab at Adelina? Should I just throw you out?" "No manners? Maybe it's because that's the way you raised me," Harlee shot back, her smile dripping with sarcasm. Harlee had never met her real parents. When Averie claimed that Harlee lacked manners after so many years of living with the Gills, she was actually insulting the Gill family. Averie had never seen Harlee so sharp-tongued before. She pressed her hand to her chest, as if she might faint from anger. Adelina's eyes turned red, her face showing feigned concern. "Harlee, I understand you're upset. Though you are no longer part of the Gill family, I found you a job in the countryside. If you work hard, you can support yourself." Adelina held up a recommendation letter, which Harlee glanced at. It was for a cleaning job at a motel in a small town. Adelina attempted to place the letter in Harlee's hands but accidentally knocked Harlee's bag to the floor, sending a small sketchbook tumbling out. The guests in the banquet hall spotted it, their eyes growing wide with disbelief. Everyone knew Adelina had recently been celebrated as a genius in fashion design. She always carried her sketchbook with her. Soon, she would become the creative director at the Gill family's fashion company. Adelina's face twisted in mock shock as she covered her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes. "Harlee, why do you have my sketchbook in your bag?" Harlee frowned, feeling annoyed. Once again, Adelina had set her up. "How could you steal Adelina's design sketches?" Averie's expression darkened, and she raised her voice at Harlee. "You cold-hearted thief! Were you trying to rob Adelina of her future? With those designs, you could get into any fashion company! You really have some nerve. You're just a thankless snake!" At the commotion, Liam frowned and walked over. "What's going on here?" Adelina's eyes filled with tears. "Mom, dad, please don't hold it against Harlee. She must have been reluctant to leave the Gill family and therefore did something desperate. It's fine. I can always come up with new designs." "Those designs are essential for you to take over as director! Our family depends on them, too! Harlee stealing them isn't just hurting you. She's putting our whole family at risk. She's just heartless. Stop trying to defend her!" Averie snapped, her voice dripping with anger. "Mom, I'm sure Harlee didn't mean to do it..." Adelina tugged at Averie's sleeve, her voice sounding calm and compassionate. Adelina then turned to Harlee. "Harlee, I know you're afraid of having nothing once you leave the Gill family, but I can't let you keep these sketches. Yet, I will help you get a job at a clothing factory in your hometown. Please work hard and no more thieving. Just stop these sneaky tricks, okay?" The bystanders couldn't help but watch the scene unfold, each of them praising Adelina. "Adelina is simply amazing. She's not only gifted in design but also incredibly magnanimous. She's a true Gill all the way." "What's the use of stealing Adelina's sketches? Does Harlee even know how to design? She's just trying to grab what doesn't belong to her. How could she stoop to this low?" "Everyone knows how much Adelina values her designs. Even with her future at stake, she still defends Harlee. Adelina is way too kind, while Harlee is just vicious!" Amid the guests' praises, Adelina raised her head, looking gentle and virtuous. "After all, Harlee was once part of the Gill family. If I can help her, I will." The guests kept on voicing their thoughts, their opinions of Harlee sinking while their admiration for Adelina grew. They noted that while Adelina might not have been as stunning, her heart was far kinder than Harlee's. Harlee's eyes swept over the guests surrounding her. Most of them appeared to watch the situation unfold with interest, more eager to voice their opinions than uncover the truth. Eventually, Harlee's gaze landed on Adelina, who donned a smug face. Harlee had actually gone through this particular sketchbook. On Adelina's very first day back home, she had taken it out during dinner, sketching dramatically in front of everyone, eager to show off her talent for fashion design. Not satisfied yet, Adelina aimed to boost her own reputation as a design genius by misleading the guests into believing Harlee had stolen her sketchbook. Harlee scoffed. Did Adelina really not see who she was imitating, or was she just that foolish? Adelina's sketchbook held over two hundred designs, but the funniest thing was that the fifty best ones were outright copies of the latest collections from top brands. Adelina had taken beautiful, high-end designs and twisted them into complicated, tasteless mixtures, robbing them of their original grace and simplicity. Instead of couture, it resembled homework wrapped up in haste from some design major students. Worse, Harlee even spotted some of her own designs that she had previously shared online. Clearly, Adelina had been living in a fantasy for so long that she might have started to believe herself to be a design genius. Harlee's lips curled into a sarcastic smile, and her intense gaze locked onto Adelina, seeing through her antics. At Harlee's charming smile, an unshakeable feeling of unease washed over Adelina. ...... How will Harlee fight back? Can Harlee successfully find her biological parents? 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) &4& | Fun Novels | 2477 | https://www.facebook.com/61563251196448/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681486 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/10/25, 4:25 AM | 1738828443 | 1749547529 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67179322-fb_contact-enj83_6-0110-c3-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=060236&accid=985743679749990&exdata=D6FAA275DE3CB432A30052A2239832D65B27C31C151434E7 | 4.3210510665256E+14 | Fragrant Fiction | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475258373_622727713457633_7412388242480442248_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=uOPCFaP8oVEQ7kNvgHls2lM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYDVFcjHipg_LOPYKi0byB9toPNOvjSPilnsQQ0EEL8J5g&oe=67AA4D5D | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Rumors claimed she was an uneducated, hot-tempered bumpkin. She sneered and revealed her true identity as a renowned designer, gaming pro, celebrated artist, and business tycoon, leaving everyone stunned! ===== "We're here to escort you home, Miss Morgan." "Your parents have been tirelessly searching for you over the years. Upon discovering your whereabouts, they promptly dispatched us to ensure your return." Fernanda Morgan surveyed the men in crisply tailored suits who stood before her, he appeared to be a butler. "Moreover, the Harper family is keenly anticipating your return. You are to be engaged to Mr. Harper once you return!" "Alright then. Let's go," Fernanda agreed with a slight nod. She collected her already-packed belongings and stepped into the vehicle. The journey from the small town of Zhota to Esaham was a long one, spanning at least two days by car. As dusk enveloped the sky, they pulled into another small town. The butler located a modestly appealing motel and proposed they stay overnight. Fernanda's accommodation was at the far end of the second-floor hallway, Room 201--arguably the best room available. The butler and the rest of their group opted to stay on the lower floor. The night was unusually warm and dry, rendering the room's aging air conditioner useless. Fernanda opened the window to invite a cool breeze, causing the curtains to dance gently in the evening air. Fresh from her shower, she dimmed the lights and crawled into bed for the night. Drifting into a light sleep, she was jolted awake by a disturbance outside. A subsequent noise at the window snapped her to full alert. As she bolted upright, a shadowy figure burst through, launching itself onto her bed. The freezing touch of a bl*de hovered at her neck as a low, threatening voice growled, "Don't you dare move." Immobile, Fernanda's body clenched in fear. The faint, iron tang of bl**d lingered on the man's sleeve--a grim reminder of his dangerousness. This unmistakable hint solidified the fact: this man was no one to mess with. Outside, the commotion intensified. Shortly after, a forceful knock resonated at the door. A coarse voice demanded, "Is anyone there? Open up now!" As the voice still echoed, the kn*fe at Fernanda's neck dug in slightly deeper. The man's voice dripped with malice as he warned, "Get rid of them, or you're as good as dead." His right arm ensnared her waist, his left hand unwavering with the kn*fe at her throat. Through his firm grip and calculated movements, Fernanda realized he was deadly serious. Cornered, she knew she had to play along for the time being. "Sure." With a soft, steady voice, Fernanda reassured him. "It'll all be okay." With no answer from inside, the outsiders used a master key to unlock the door and stormed in. At the sound, the man jerked Fernanda's baggy T-shirt, pulling her down onto his lap and encircling her with his arm, forcing her to straddle him as he shifted position. Right then, the door flung open, and a stark beam of flashlight flooded the room. Fernanda let out a panicked scream, quickly bending over the man to obscure him from view. "Sweetheart, what the hell is this place? How could anyone have the audacity to barge in like that?" Acting as though she was terrified, Fernanda held onto the man, her grip firm and desperate. Her voice, usually sweet and enticing, now carried an edge of annoyance mingled with a breathless charm that was utterly captivating. Suddenly, Fernanda felt the man beneath her tense up. Seconds later, he encircled her with his arm and expertly flipped over, drawing the blanket over both their bodies. As the blanket slid, its soft whispers merged with the steady rhythm of their breaths, painting a scene of understated sensuality. Faces flushed with embarrassment, the group at the door stood stiffly, unprepared for the private display before them. Nonetheless, the couple inside the room showed no signs of halting their intimate exchange. The motel's security guard chuckled uncomfortably, "Looks like they're pretty busy... Maybe we ought to leave, huh?" One of the men brushed past the guard and entered the room with a purposeful stride. Fernanda's heartbeat skyrocketed as she heard the footsteps drawing near. Could they actually be contemplating unveiling them? A chilling bl*de pressed against her side, its pointed tip grazing her skin, sending a shiver through her already tense body. The footsteps halted next to the bed, and with a surge of courage, Fernanda leaned in closer to the man beneath her. Pulled back gently, the blanket gave way to the flashlight's piercing light, exposing a glimpse of her delicate, b*re back. In the softness of the bed, their movements continued unabated. Fernanda's lips met his in a fervent kiss, her hair cascading down to obscure his face, while his hand gently caressed her side. The subdued m**ns that slipped from their lips lent the scene an air of genuine intimacy. Abruptly, a voice erupted from beyond the room, piercing the tranquility. "Boss! Something's going down out on the street!" Instantly, the man at the bedside sprang to his feet and vanished through the door. With the door slamming behind him, Fernanda disentangled herself and slipped from the bed. Moonlight seeped through a crack in the curtains, casting delicate shadows across the room. The man watched as Fernanda's slender figure was silhouetted against the pale light. Memories of earlier washed over him; his fingers traced her skin, so smooth and velvety. She had gripped his arms, her delicate skin pressing softly against his. Her hair had brushed his face, each strand silky, carrying a subtle fragrance. Her voice had been a soft melody, soothing to his ears. This woman was serene and astute. Amid the intrusion, rather than succumb to panic, she had pressed her lips to his, a kiss so convincing it had deceived the pursuers. Her technique was rather clumsy, only pressing her lips against his without any other movement--evidently her first kiss. Breaking the ensuing quiet, the man's voice softened from its usual sternness to a rasp tinged with all**re. "Was that your first kiss?" Chapter 2 That's Gross With deliberate movements, Fernanda pulled out a piece of clothing from her suitcase, her voice sharp and cool. "This is none of your concern. I think it's time for you to leave." All she desired at that moment was to hasten the man's departure. Barely a moment before, when he had embraced her, his fingers had brushed against her back, lingering just a moment too long. The calluses on his fingertips were coarse, betraying more wear than most. His adeptness with a knife and his swift reflexes hinted at a background that was far from ordinary. Cutting off the thought immediately, Fernanda dismissed any curiosity about his background. From below, the blare of a car horn shattered the silence. The man stood up smoothly. During their earlier intimacy, he had loosened his shirt, though his trousers remained crisply in place. He buttoned his shirt as he approached the window and casually tossed something to Fernanda. "My apologies for any discomfort caused earlier. Consider this your compensation," he said with a nod. With the graceful precision of a panther, he sprang out of the window. Fernanda approached the window, peering out into the night where, under the faint illumination of the streetlights, she observed him scale the wall effortlessly. He navigated the ledges until he merged with the shadows. She stooped to retrieve the object he had left--a sleek black card. The night's disruptions had been met with suitable compensation--a fair recompense. Fernanda pocketed the card and drew the curtains closed. The following morning, the butler approached Fernanda with a look of concern etched across his face. "Miss Morgan, I hope you managed to rest last night. There was an inspection for a burglary, which stirred quite the disturbance." She shrugged casually and muttered, "It was fine." As they drove, the butler stole glances at Fernanda through the rearview mirror. Reclined in her seat, she gazed out the window, her elegant profile cast in contemplative silence. He mused quietly to himself that she did not embody the typical country-raised youth. Her calm sophistication and graceful demeanor set her apart, enhancing her natural charm and making her an effortlessly endearing presence. After two days of travel, Fernanda stepped into the bustling streets of Esaham. The city was a teeming metropolis, alive with vibrant streets and a relentless stream of traffic. Shortly after 8 a.m., a stretch Lincoln limousine glided into the upscale estate of Dawn Villas, coming to a halt in front of a majestic three-story white villa. Stepping gracefully from the limousine, Fernanda let her eyes wander over the grandeur of the building before her. The villa, both opulent and imposing, was a testament to vast wealth. Her lips curled into a faint, almost mocking smile as she gave it a scrutinizing glance. This was her father Robert Morgan's residence. From humble beginnings, he had climbed to wealth and status with her late mother's support. After amassing his fortune, Robert had coldly cast aside her mother, choosing to revel in a relationship with his mistress. That woman--Michelle Morgan--had contributed nothing to his success, yet she now sat smugly in the seat Fernanda's mother had rightfully earned. She basked in the luxuries and respect that were never hers to claim. Worse still, Michelle had dared to flaunt her victory, parading her stolen life before Fernanda's grieving mother, a cruelty that had ultimately led to Fernanda's mother's untimely death. To the world, Michelle was seen as Robert's second wife, a symbol of grace and charm. Michelle even had the audacity to claim she was Fernanda's real mother. But Fernanda knew better. Behind the polished veneer lay the truth, raw and unforgiving. Fernanda's dark eyes momentarily hardened, a flicker of steely determination glinting within them. Her mother was no longer here to seek justice, but Fernanda vowed she would deliver it on her behalf. Just then, the villa's grand door swung open, revealing the pair responsible for the upheaval in her life. Robert stood tall and pristine, the sharp lines of his tailored suit accentuating his stature. His gold-rimmed glasses reflected the warm light, adding an air of calculated sophistication. At his side was Michelle, the very picture of elegance. Her fitted dress clung perfectly to her poised figure, exuding refinement and composure. "Fernanda, you've come back." Robert greeted warmly, a smile playing on his lips as he waved her over. "Come in." Fernanda's eyes darted downward, concealing the storm of emotions swirling within her. With a tentative step, she moved closer. Robert, with an arm encircling Michelle's waist, introduced her with a gesture. "Fernanda, this is your mother." With a casual wave toward the living room, he remarked, "And that's Erika, your sister." On the couch, Erika Morgan was engaged with the television, only looking up when Fernanda approached. Her eyes narrowed judgmentally at Fernanda's plain dress, her face contorting into a sneer. With an exaggerated eye-roll and a sarcastic tone, Erika muttered, "That country bumpkin? Dad, she's no sister of mine." Michelle approached Fernanda with a warm smile, linking her arm with Fernanda's. "Oh, Fernanda, Erika's just teasing. Pay her no mind. I've prepared breakfast for you. You must be starving. Let's have something to eat." Silently, Fernanda slipped her arm free and strode with determined steps into the dining room. Michelle paused, her smile faltering as a shadow of confusion crossed her face. She turned to Robert, her voice tinged with concern. "Robert, what's gotten into her?" He sighed, his voice a blend of empathy and resignation, "Fernanda was raised in the countryside. She's a bit unrefined, that's all. It's nothing against you, Michelle." Michelle nodded slowly, a soft smile reclaiming her features. "No worries," she murmured, her resolve firming. "I'll guide her as she settles in, teach her the essentials of elegance, and shape her into a poised young woman." Robert gave a supportive pat on her back, his expression one of appreciative assurance. In the dining room, Michelle seated herself next to Fernanda. "Fernanda, you must try this beef," she insisted, placing a tender slice onto Fernanda's plate. "It's Erika's favorite." Fernanda responded by promptly lifting the beef from her plate and dropping it into an empty plate with a clear look of disgust. "That's gross," she stated flatly, her voice void of any warmth. Chapter 3 How Could You Lie? The moment those words left Fernanda's lips, the entire table came to a standstill, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief. Erika, her patience fraying, brought her hand down hard on the table and demanded, "Country bumpkin, what are you even saying? My mom was kind enough to offer you this beef, and you have the nerve to be rude about it?" Fernanda met their astonished looks with a mask of feigned innocence. "I was clearly referring to the beef," she said with a deliberate pause. "It's raw and quite frankly, it looks unappetizing. What else could I possibly mean?" "You..." Erika's retort faltered, caught in her throat. Admitting that she thought Fernanda was insulting Michelle was out of the question. With a slow, calculated blink, Fernanda went on, "Unless, perhaps, you think there's something even more gross on this table than the raw beef?" At this, Erika's face registered sheer astonishment, and for a split second, her voice seemed to have deserted her entirely. Not a single word could she muster. It was Michelle who broke the awkward silence, interjecting smoothly, "Fernanda, the dish you're referring to is called beef tartare. It's a renowned delicacy made from top-notch beef and a pasteurized egg, typically found in high-end dining establishments. Perhaps it's something you've not had the opportunity to try before." Her voice subtly implied that Fernanda's simpler past might not have included such refined culinary experiences. Fernanda allowed a mischievous smirk to play at the corners of her lips and replied, "Our ancestors honed an array of sophisticated recipes and techniques. They certainly didn't refine these culinary arts for us to regress to consuming raw meat as if we were lost in the wild." Michelle's expression briefly betrayed a touch of discomfort, yet she managed to sustain a polite smile, nodding her agreement somewhat rigidly. "You bring up a valid point, I'll give you that." "I agree. I'm not fond of beef tartare either," Robert added with a nod, his gaze settling on Fernanda with evident pride. "I've always preferred classic tastes myself. It seems Fernanda has inherited that from me." Fernanda offered a subdued smile, delicately wiping her fork on a napkin after attempting the beef tartare, then resumed eating with a composed demeanor, seemingly unaffected by Erika's glaring resentment. Michelle suddenly ventured a soft query. "Fernanda, which university are you attending these days? Erika is at Luminary University, one of the top schools in the country. What about you?" At this, Erika's face morphed into a self-satisfied grin. Robert's tone grew cooler as he intervened on Fernanda's behalf. "I've spoken to a few contacts back in Fernanda's hometown. Currently, she isn't enrolled in any university." Michelle's eyes went wide, her voice cutting through the silence as she blurted, "What did you just say? Fernanda isn't attending any university? That simply cannot be! What will happen when the Harpers find out? Mrs. Harper had just mentioned a few days ago that they were planning a grand welcome party for Fernanda upon her return. If they learn she's not enrolled anywhere, it could be disastrous." Robert intervened, his tone laced with irritation, cutting through Michelle's rising panic. "Enough. I will take care of Fernanda's education myself." From the corner, Erika couldn't suppress a snicker. Imagining Fernanda managing to sneak into some low-ranked school through connections was downright amusing to her. The Harper family, celebrating the arrival of what Erika considered a rural nobody, was an absurd thought. Fernanda's crude and graceless demeanor would certainly earn their disapproval the moment they saw her. Erika found Bobby Harper quite charming, but his family's insistence on honoring their promise to engage him to Fernanda and pushing Robert to reintegrate Fernanda into their circles seemed ridiculously foolish to her. She was convinced that the Harper family would never develop an affinity for someone as lacking in education as Fernanda. The mood around the table grew tense as they discussed Fernanda's academic prospects. Amidst the awkward silence, Fernanda herself reached for a napkin, dabbing at her lips gracefully. "I have already registered to take the entrance exam for Esaham University," she announced, her voice steady and clear. "Assuming all goes well, I plan to attend there in the near future." Erika was caught off guard and, for a moment, was speechless before she burst into unrestrained laughter. The idea that Esaham University, the most prestigious in the nation where seats were as coveted as gold, would allow Fernanda to take the entrance exam was laughable. Clearly, this was a lie. Robert's demeanor hardened, his eyes narrowing with a frosty glare. He furrowed his brow in disapproval and said sternly, "Fernanda, how could you lie about being granted the opportunity to take the entrance exam for Esaham University? Was lying the only lesson you picked up in your little hometown?" "Honey, calm down," Michelle interjected quickly. "Fernanda was only trying to impress you." Turning to Fernanda with a soft, maternal expression, Michelle remarked in a soothing tone, "There's no shame in skipping college, Fernanda. You don't have to pretend or feel lesser because of it. We're family here, and we don't judge you on such matters." Her words, though gentle, were saturated with disbelief, assuming Fernanda was fabricating her story. Fernanda, without a word of defense, simply pulled out her smartphone. After a few taps, she pushed it across the table towards the center. Everyone leaned in to see the display. Erika's laughter stopped abruptly as she stared at the screen. Displayed prominently was Fernanda's Esaham University entrance exam admission ticket, complete with her photo and name in bold. Snatching the phone, Erika's eyes grew wide as she inspected it repeatedly. Her anger boiling over, she tossed it away and exclaimed, "This can't be real! You edited this, didn't you?" Chapter 4 This Girl Is Something Else "This isn't a photo--it's an online document," Fernanda stated in an even tone, her voice steady and clear. "Notice the Esaham University web address at the top?" Erika was at a loss for words. Her complexion lost its color as silence enveloped her. Entry to Esaham University was notoriously difficult, achievable only through the rigorous standardized exam or by excelling in the university's specialized admission test. This test was reserved for the truly outstanding, drawing candidates from diverse disciplines and making the chance to compete a rare gem. How did Fernanda manage to secure a spot to attend the admission test? Suddenly, Robert's hand was on Fernanda's phone, his eyes scanning the text again and again. Any annoyance he felt quickly dissipated, replaced by bubbling excitement. A rich, joyful laughter escaped him as he declared, "Brilliant, Fernanda! Absolutely brilliant!" The way Fernanda managed to secure such an incredible opportunity didn't concern him. What mattered most to him was the overwhelming pride he felt, knowing she had this chance to take the exam. With a stiff smile and a voice laced with tension, Michelle replied, "Yes, well done." "What's so great about that?" Erika scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. "It's not as if she's actually going to pass." "But it's certainly better than not being qualified to try at all, right?" Fernanda retorted smoothly. Color rushed to Erika's cheeks, her anger palpable. She slammed her fork down, the clatter echoing sharply. "I've had enough!" she declared vehemently, before storming off in a huff. After dinner, Robert and Michelle walked Fernanda to her cozy and thoughtfully prepared room. The room was airy and uncluttered, resonating with Fernanda's love for understated elegance. "Across the hall is your sister's room," Michelle explained, her voice carrying a warm undertone. "Next to yours is your elder brother's. He's often caught up with work commitments and rarely at home. Your younger brother, who's currently at a summer camp overseas, has his room beside Erika's." She continued, a smile softening her features, "If there's anything you need to make your stay more comfortable, please don't hesitate to tell me, dear." Robert watched Michelle with a look of quiet approval. "Thank you," Fernanda murmured, her eyes downcast as she spoke. "I think I'll take a shower now." At that, Robert and Michelle excused themselves, leaving Fernanda to her privacy. As she stepped under the spray, cool water washed over her, drenching her face and lending a luminous sheen to her eyes. They sparkled against the backdrop of water droplets on her lashes, enhancing the serene yet frosty allure of her features. Once out of the shower, Fernanda blow-dried her hair until it was just damp. As Fernanda from the bathroom, she dug through the suitcase and found a photo of Hiram Hammond. The photo was a solemn memorial portrait of Hiram. Though not bound to her by blood, he had nurtured her with unwavering care and affection. To Fernanda, he was her entire world, her only family. That cherished photo, a tribute to his memory, was something she couldn't afford to lose. Gazing at the kind, gentle face in the photo, Fernanda was enveloped by a surge of affection. With gentle hands, she cleaned the photograph and lovingly placed it on a side table in the room. Within the next two days, the villa had welcomed two additional guests--Michelle's nephew and niece. The man exhibited an unseemly l**tfulness, with his gaze persistently fixed on Fernanda whenever he could manage. Meanwhile, the woman had aligned herself with Erika, openly manifesting her contempt and animosity toward Fernanda through both overt and subtle jabs. Disenchanted by their presence, Fernanda chose to distance herself from the villa's stifling atmosphere. As the sun dawdled on the brink of the horizon, the evening air, warm yet prickled with tension, brushed against her. Seeking a brief escape, Fernanda wandered to a convenience store and picked up a can of cold beer. Positioned against a lamppost, she deftly popped open the can single-handedly. The refreshing chill of the beer soothed her throat as she drank. A slight tilt of her head caused the collar of her shirt to shift delicately, exposing the elegant contour of her collarbone. With an air of sophistication, her neck arched gracefully, like someone relishing a glass of champagne in an exclusive bar. Having savored the last drop, Fernanda tossed the can with a casual flick of her wrist, watching it arc smoothly into the bin with a satisfying clink. Not far off, someone hidden in the dim interior of a black sedan watched intently. Bobby, palpably impressed, turned to his companion and remarked with a mix of awe and admiration, "Cristian, this girl is something else!" Chapter 5 Attacked Cristian Reed, who was sprawling in the backseat, remained silent, his eyes firmly shut. "Wow, the girl is stunning! Check out those legs--so beautiful and flawless! Did you see her toss that can, Cristian? She's got skills that could rival yours!" Bobby's incessant babble finally pierced Cristian's reserve. With a sigh, Cristian's eyes fluttered open. Just then, the headlights from an approaching vehicle swept across his face, accentuating its angular contours and highlighting a small mole beneath his eye. Drawing out his words, Cristian replied with a lazy drawl, his voice a deep, soothing rumble laced with a trace of exhaustion, "Aren't you getting engaged soon? Isn't the eldest Morgan daughter meant to be yours?" Bobby visibly flinched at the mention, his expression contorting into one of clear distaste. "She's nothing but a stray who got lost as a child and grew up in some nowhere place. Who's to say she isn't just a goddamn ugly rural bumpkin? My friends probably see me as some unlucky fool. Cristian, you are my cousin. You should not make fun of me like they do!" Cristian merely crossed his arms, extending his long legs and settling back more comfortably without a word. The silence seemed to deepen Bobby's frustration, as if sealing his fate. Yet, as Bobby's eyes landed on the girl's striking figure under the streetlight again, his mood shifted, and a flicker of curiosity lit up his face. With a playful grin, Bobby lowered the window and leaned slightly out, his tone dripping with charm. "Hey there, gorgeous. Can I offer you a ride?" "No, thank you." Her words were crisp and frosty, cutting through the evening like a cold breeze, leaving a chill that touched both men. In the backseat, Cristian's body tensed. His eyes snapped open, his head whipping around toward the sound of the voice. That voice? It unmistakably belonged to the girl he had met in that dimly lit motel. Cristian acted with such swiftness that he seemed to blur the lines between thought and action as he swung the car door open and emerged. Fernanda mistook his approach for a mere flirtatious gesture. Without giving him another thought, she turned away and continued on her path. She had only taken a few steps when she felt a strong, unyielding grip halt her progress. She spun around, coming face-to-face with the man who had stopped her. Towering and strikingly handsome, he possessed an aura of undeniable presence. One hand was nonchalantly placed in his pocket, while the other securely grasped her arm. His piercing gaze locked with hers. "Well, if it isn't you!" Cristian muttered slowly, a hint of recognition in his voice. "Seems like we keep meeting, huh?" Fernanda's eyes flickered with surprise as she realized who he was--the man from that unforgettable night. Given that he was a dangerous fugitive, she wanted to keep her distance from him. Swiftly regaining her composure, she adopted an aloof demeanor. "I'm sorry, sir. You must be mistaken," she replied evenly. "No," Cristian responded, his voice low and steady, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "A debt of gratitude is something I never forget." His remark revealed a depth to his character. For Cristian, repaying a good deed wasn't just a courtesy--it was a principle he lived by. Meanwhile, Bobby had exited the car and now stood a short distance away, his expression one of utter bewilderment. "What's going on?" he inquired. Cristian brushed off Bobby's presence, focusing instead on holding the car door open for Fernanda with a subtle nod. Fernanda stayed rooted in place, her gaze sharp with caution. "What do you mean by that?" "I'd like to take you to dinner. Would you join me?" Cristian urged with a warm, inviting smile. It came across as a question, but Fernanda could discern from the inflection in his voice that he wasn't genuinely offering her an option to decline. Her familiarity with his nature left no room for misunderstanding. Refusing him might only provoke him to force her into the car himself. With a sigh, she gave a subdued nod. "Fine." A faint smile flickered across Cristian's face as he graciously gestured for her to enter, then smoothly took his place behind the wheel. Bobby blinked in shock, his mouth hanging open. "You've got to be kidding me, Cristian. This is incredible!" Cristian had effortlessly ensnared the alluring girl with a mere handful of words, an accomplishment Bobby found profoundly impressive. As Bobby tried the back door, he found it unexpectedly locked. "Cristian?" he inquired, a hint of confusion in his tone. Cristian commanded firmly, "Leave." Frozen in place in the brisk evening air, Bobby watched the sleek black car vanish into the shadows of the night. He was the first to spot the girl! Why had they left him behind? Inside the car, Cristian shattered the lingering silence by firing off a torrent of questions. "Are you from Esaham or Zhota?" "Zhota," she answered softly. "And your name?" "Letty Molina." "How old are you?" "Twenty-five," Fernanda replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Cristian stole a sideways glance at her, his voice laced with skepticism. "Doesn't seem like it." "Reality seldom mirrors our expectations," Fernanda replied, her tone unwavering. "Take your appearance, for instance. In that impeccable suit, you're the perfect picture of a business tycoon. Yet, you're the same fugitive I stumbled upon the other night." Cristian couldn't help but laugh, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You do have a point." Fernanda was finally no longer feigning ignorance about their past encounter. Cristian was relieved. Had she chosen to continue her charade, he had his own methods to have her drop the act. As usual, Esaham's traffic was a snarled mess. Cristian veered onto a less congested side street, hoping to evade the endless sea of cars. Breaking the silence, he suggested, "I know a cozy spot run by a Zhota native--serves excellent food. Let's head there." "Sure," she replied, her tone calm but firm. Just as Fernanda's reply hung in the air, a jarring crash echoed from behind, jolting the car forward. She was thrust back, the seatbelt gnawing into her shoulder. Cristian's gaze darted to the rearview mirror. Suddenly, a van cut sharply across their path, blocking them. On either side, vehicles converged, spilling out men brandishing grim tools, their silhouettes ominous in the dim streetlight. Without hesitation, Cristian reached into the center console, retrieving a kn*fe. "Whatever happens, keep yourself inside the car. Don't even think about stepping out," he instructed firmly, pressing her back into the seat. With a resolute nod, he went on, "I'll take care of them, and afterward, dinner's on me." Cristian wrapped up his conversation, offering Fernanda a fleeting smile that appeared untouched by the surrounding tension. Fernanda folded her arms and settled deeper into her seat, her face a mask of tranquility as she observed Cristian approach the group of armed adversaries. The scene was stark--one man facing off against a throng armed to the teeth. The odds were clearly not in his favor. Yet, as Cristian lifted his foot and dispatched two of the men to the ground with a single, silent kick, Fernanda took note of his precision and power. His technique spoke of extensive training and raw capability. The gang, incited by Cristian's defiance, rushed at him collectively. Sticks sliced through the air, each strike landing with a dense thud that echoed menace. Cristian, however, danced through the tumult with a grace that seemed almost serene. Despite their advantage in numbers, his assailants found themselves floundering to overpower him. One attacker received a blunt punch straight to the face, staggering backward and eventually collapsing against the hood of Cristian's car. As he dabbed at the bl**d dripping from his nose, the man snarled in rage. Catching sight of Fernanda inside the vehicle, a sinister idea sparked within him... ...... 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) &5& | Fragrant Fiction | 62 | https://www.facebook.com/61565957015132/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681489 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/12/25, 2:30 AM | 1738828443 | 1749713447 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | IMAGE | His Scorned Bride Turned Out To Be Legendary | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67179322-fb_contact-enj83_6-0110-c3-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=060236&accid=985743679749990&exdata=D6FAA275DE3CB43224F1FF3812CD878D52AC03600E3969DC | 4.3210510665256E+14 | Fragrant Fiction | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474808741_974955157904365_5969324296931774780_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=AZXGzdq4frYQ7kNvgHqFiyc&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYBErzaxVGqN0Z8X7aS2GHgimlSLZP0iS_rv7x7y5ef6vg&oe=67AA4E48 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Rumors claimed she was an uneducated, hot-tempered bumpkin. She sneered and revealed her true identity as a renowned designer, gaming pro, celebrated artist, and business tycoon, leaving everyone stunned! ===== "We're here to escort you home, Miss Morgan." "Your parents have been tirelessly searching for you over the years. Upon discovering your whereabouts, they promptly dispatched us to ensure your return." Fernanda Morgan surveyed the men in crisply tailored suits who stood before her, he appeared to be a butler. "Moreover, the Harper family is keenly anticipating your return. You are to be engaged to Mr. Harper once you return!" "Alright then. Let's go," Fernanda agreed with a slight nod. She collected her already-packed belongings and stepped into the vehicle. The journey from the small town of Zhota to Esaham was a long one, spanning at least two days by car. As dusk enveloped the sky, they pulled into another small town. The butler located a modestly appealing motel and proposed they stay overnight. Fernanda's accommodation was at the far end of the second-floor hallway, Room 201--arguably the best room available. The butler and the rest of their group opted to stay on the lower floor. The night was unusually warm and dry, rendering the room's aging air conditioner useless. Fernanda opened the window to invite a cool breeze, causing the curtains to dance gently in the evening air. Fresh from her shower, she dimmed the lights and crawled into bed for the night. Drifting into a light sleep, she was jolted awake by a disturbance outside. A subsequent noise at the window snapped her to full alert. As she bolted upright, a shadowy figure burst through, launching itself onto her bed. The freezing touch of a bl*de hovered at her neck as a low, threatening voice growled, "Don't you dare move." Immobile, Fernanda's body clenched in fear. The faint, iron tang of bl**d lingered on the man's sleeve--a grim reminder of his dangerousness. This unmistakable hint solidified the fact: this man was no one to mess with. Outside, the commotion intensified. Shortly after, a forceful knock resonated at the door. A coarse voice demanded, "Is anyone there? Open up now!" As the voice still echoed, the kn*fe at Fernanda's neck dug in slightly deeper. The man's voice dripped with malice as he warned, "Get rid of them, or you're as good as dead." His right arm ensnared her waist, his left hand unwavering with the kn*fe at her throat. Through his firm grip and calculated movements, Fernanda realized he was deadly serious. Cornered, she knew she had to play along for the time being. "Sure." With a soft, steady voice, Fernanda reassured him. "It'll all be okay." With no answer from inside, the outsiders used a master key to unlock the door and stormed in. At the sound, the man jerked Fernanda's baggy T-shirt, pulling her down onto his lap and encircling her with his arm, forcing her to straddle him as he shifted position. Right then, the door flung open, and a stark beam of flashlight flooded the room. Fernanda let out a panicked scream, quickly bending over the man to obscure him from view. "Sweetheart, what the hell is this place? How could anyone have the audacity to barge in like that?" Acting as though she was terrified, Fernanda held onto the man, her grip firm and desperate. Her voice, usually sweet and enticing, now carried an edge of annoyance mingled with a breathless charm that was utterly captivating. Suddenly, Fernanda felt the man beneath her tense up. Seconds later, he encircled her with his arm and expertly flipped over, drawing the blanket over both their bodies. As the blanket slid, its soft whispers merged with the steady rhythm of their breaths, painting a scene of understated sensuality. Faces flushed with embarrassment, the group at the door stood stiffly, unprepared for the private display before them. Nonetheless, the couple inside the room showed no signs of halting their intimate exchange. The motel's security guard chuckled uncomfortably, "Looks like they're pretty busy... Maybe we ought to leave, huh?" One of the men brushed past the guard and entered the room with a purposeful stride. Fernanda's heartbeat skyrocketed as she heard the footsteps drawing near. Could they actually be contemplating unveiling them? A chilling bl*de pressed against her side, its pointed tip grazing her skin, sending a shiver through her already tense body. The footsteps halted next to the bed, and with a surge of courage, Fernanda leaned in closer to the man beneath her. Pulled back gently, the blanket gave way to the flashlight's piercing light, exposing a glimpse of her delicate, b*re back. In the softness of the bed, their movements continued unabated. Fernanda's lips met his in a fervent kiss, her hair cascading down to obscure his face, while his hand gently caressed her side. The subdued m**ns that slipped from their lips lent the scene an air of genuine intimacy. Abruptly, a voice erupted from beyond the room, piercing the tranquility. "Boss! Something's going down out on the street!" Instantly, the man at the bedside sprang to his feet and vanished through the door. With the door slamming behind him, Fernanda disentangled herself and slipped from the bed. Moonlight seeped through a crack in the curtains, casting delicate shadows across the room. The man watched as Fernanda's slender figure was silhouetted against the pale light. Memories of earlier washed over him; his fingers traced her skin, so smooth and velvety. She had gripped his arms, her delicate skin pressing softly against his. Her hair had brushed his face, each strand silky, carrying a subtle fragrance. Her voice had been a soft melody, soothing to his ears. This woman was serene and astute. Amid the intrusion, rather than succumb to panic, she had pressed her lips to his, a kiss so convincing it had deceived the pursuers. Her technique was rather clumsy, only pressing her lips against his without any other movement--evidently her first kiss. Breaking the ensuing quiet, the man's voice softened from its usual sternness to a rasp tinged with all**re. "Was that your first kiss?" Chapter 2 That's Gross With deliberate movements, Fernanda pulled out a piece of clothing from her suitcase, her voice sharp and cool. "This is none of your concern. I think it's time for you to leave." All she desired at that moment was to hasten the man's departure. Barely a moment before, when he had embraced her, his fingers had brushed against her back, lingering just a moment too long. The calluses on his fingertips were coarse, betraying more wear than most. His adeptness with a knife and his swift reflexes hinted at a background that was far from ordinary. Cutting off the thought immediately, Fernanda dismissed any curiosity about his background. From below, the blare of a car horn shattered the silence. The man stood up smoothly. During their earlier intimacy, he had loosened his shirt, though his trousers remained crisply in place. He buttoned his shirt as he approached the window and casually tossed something to Fernanda. "My apologies for any discomfort caused earlier. Consider this your compensation," he said with a nod. With the graceful precision of a panther, he sprang out of the window. Fernanda approached the window, peering out into the night where, under the faint illumination of the streetlights, she observed him scale the wall effortlessly. He navigated the ledges until he merged with the shadows. She stooped to retrieve the object he had left--a sleek black card. The night's disruptions had been met with suitable compensation--a fair recompense. Fernanda pocketed the card and drew the curtains closed. The following morning, the butler approached Fernanda with a look of concern etched across his face. "Miss Morgan, I hope you managed to rest last night. There was an inspection for a burglary, which stirred quite the disturbance." She shrugged casually and muttered, "It was fine." As they drove, the butler stole glances at Fernanda through the rearview mirror. Reclined in her seat, she gazed out the window, her elegant profile cast in contemplative silence. He mused quietly to himself that she did not embody the typical country-raised youth. Her calm sophistication and graceful demeanor set her apart, enhancing her natural charm and making her an effortlessly endearing presence. After two days of travel, Fernanda stepped into the bustling streets of Esaham. The city was a teeming metropolis, alive with vibrant streets and a relentless stream of traffic. Shortly after 8 a.m., a stretch Lincoln limousine glided into the upscale estate of Dawn Villas, coming to a halt in front of a majestic three-story white villa. Stepping gracefully from the limousine, Fernanda let her eyes wander over the grandeur of the building before her. The villa, both opulent and imposing, was a testament to vast wealth. Her lips curled into a faint, almost mocking smile as she gave it a scrutinizing glance. This was her father Robert Morgan's residence. From humble beginnings, he had climbed to wealth and status with her late mother's support. After amassing his fortune, Robert had coldly cast aside her mother, choosing to revel in a relationship with his mistress. That woman--Michelle Morgan--had contributed nothing to his success, yet she now sat smugly in the seat Fernanda's mother had rightfully earned. She basked in the luxuries and respect that were never hers to claim. Worse still, Michelle had dared to flaunt her victory, parading her stolen life before Fernanda's grieving mother, a cruelty that had ultimately led to Fernanda's mother's untimely death. To the world, Michelle was seen as Robert's second wife, a symbol of grace and charm. Michelle even had the audacity to claim she was Fernanda's real mother. But Fernanda knew better. Behind the polished veneer lay the truth, raw and unforgiving. Fernanda's dark eyes momentarily hardened, a flicker of steely determination glinting within them. Her mother was no longer here to seek justice, but Fernanda vowed she would deliver it on her behalf. Just then, the villa's grand door swung open, revealing the pair responsible for the upheaval in her life. Robert stood tall and pristine, the sharp lines of his tailored suit accentuating his stature. His gold-rimmed glasses reflected the warm light, adding an air of calculated sophistication. At his side was Michelle, the very picture of elegance. Her fitted dress clung perfectly to her poised figure, exuding refinement and composure. "Fernanda, you've come back." Robert greeted warmly, a smile playing on his lips as he waved her over. "Come in." Fernanda's eyes darted downward, concealing the storm of emotions swirling within her. With a tentative step, she moved closer. Robert, with an arm encircling Michelle's waist, introduced her with a gesture. "Fernanda, this is your mother." With a casual wave toward the living room, he remarked, "And that's Erika, your sister." On the couch, Erika Morgan was engaged with the television, only looking up when Fernanda approached. Her eyes narrowed judgmentally at Fernanda's plain dress, her face contorting into a sneer. With an exaggerated eye-roll and a sarcastic tone, Erika muttered, "That country bumpkin? Dad, she's no sister of mine." Michelle approached Fernanda with a warm smile, linking her arm with Fernanda's. "Oh, Fernanda, Erika's just teasing. Pay her no mind. I've prepared breakfast for you. You must be starving. Let's have something to eat." Silently, Fernanda slipped her arm free and strode with determined steps into the dining room. Michelle paused, her smile faltering as a shadow of confusion crossed her face. She turned to Robert, her voice tinged with concern. "Robert, what's gotten into her?" He sighed, his voice a blend of empathy and resignation, "Fernanda was raised in the countryside. She's a bit unrefined, that's all. It's nothing against you, Michelle." Michelle nodded slowly, a soft smile reclaiming her features. "No worries," she murmured, her resolve firming. "I'll guide her as she settles in, teach her the essentials of elegance, and shape her into a poised young woman." Robert gave a supportive pat on her back, his expression one of appreciative assurance. In the dining room, Michelle seated herself next to Fernanda. "Fernanda, you must try this beef," she insisted, placing a tender slice onto Fernanda's plate. "It's Erika's favorite." Fernanda responded by promptly lifting the beef from her plate and dropping it into an empty plate with a clear look of disgust. "That's gross," she stated flatly, her voice void of any warmth. Chapter 3 How Could You Lie? The moment those words left Fernanda's lips, the entire table came to a standstill, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief. Erika, her patience fraying, brought her hand down hard on the table and demanded, "Country bumpkin, what are you even saying? My mom was kind enough to offer you this beef, and you have the nerve to be rude about it?" Fernanda met their astonished looks with a mask of feigned innocence. "I was clearly referring to the beef," she said with a deliberate pause. "It's raw and quite frankly, it looks unappetizing. What else could I possibly mean?" "You..." Erika's retort faltered, caught in her throat. Admitting that she thought Fernanda was insulting Michelle was out of the question. With a slow, calculated blink, Fernanda went on, "Unless, perhaps, you think there's something even more gross on this table than the raw beef?" At this, Erika's face registered sheer astonishment, and for a split second, her voice seemed to have deserted her entirely. Not a single word could she muster. It was Michelle who broke the awkward silence, interjecting smoothly, "Fernanda, the dish you're referring to is called beef tartare. It's a renowned delicacy made from top-notch beef and a pasteurized egg, typically found in high-end dining establishments. Perhaps it's something you've not had the opportunity to try before." Her voice subtly implied that Fernanda's simpler past might not have included such refined culinary experiences. Fernanda allowed a mischievous smirk to play at the corners of her lips and replied, "Our ancestors honed an array of sophisticated recipes and techniques. They certainly didn't refine these culinary arts for us to regress to consuming raw meat as if we were lost in the wild." Michelle's expression briefly betrayed a touch of discomfort, yet she managed to sustain a polite smile, nodding her agreement somewhat rigidly. "You bring up a valid point, I'll give you that." "I agree. I'm not fond of beef tartare either," Robert added with a nod, his gaze settling on Fernanda with evident pride. "I've always preferred classic tastes myself. It seems Fernanda has inherited that from me." Fernanda offered a subdued smile, delicately wiping her fork on a napkin after attempting the beef tartare, then resumed eating with a composed demeanor, seemingly unaffected by Erika's glaring resentment. Michelle suddenly ventured a soft query. "Fernanda, which university are you attending these days? Erika is at Luminary University, one of the top schools in the country. What about you?" At this, Erika's face morphed into a self-satisfied grin. Robert's tone grew cooler as he intervened on Fernanda's behalf. "I've spoken to a few contacts back in Fernanda's hometown. Currently, she isn't enrolled in any university." Michelle's eyes went wide, her voice cutting through the silence as she blurted, "What did you just say? Fernanda isn't attending any university? That simply cannot be! What will happen when the Harpers find out? Mrs. Harper had just mentioned a few days ago that they were planning a grand welcome party for Fernanda upon her return. If they learn she's not enrolled anywhere, it could be disastrous." Robert intervened, his tone laced with irritation, cutting through Michelle's rising panic. "Enough. I will take care of Fernanda's education myself." From the corner, Erika couldn't suppress a snicker. Imagining Fernanda managing to sneak into some low-ranked school through connections was downright amusing to her. The Harper family, celebrating the arrival of what Erika considered a rural nobody, was an absurd thought. Fernanda's crude and graceless demeanor would certainly earn their disapproval the moment they saw her. Erika found Bobby Harper quite charming, but his family's insistence on honoring their promise to engage him to Fernanda and pushing Robert to reintegrate Fernanda into their circles seemed ridiculously foolish to her. She was convinced that the Harper family would never develop an affinity for someone as lacking in education as Fernanda. The mood around the table grew tense as they discussed Fernanda's academic prospects. Amidst the awkward silence, Fernanda herself reached for a napkin, dabbing at her lips gracefully. "I have already registered to take the entrance exam for Esaham University," she announced, her voice steady and clear. "Assuming all goes well, I plan to attend there in the near future." Erika was caught off guard and, for a moment, was speechless before she burst into unrestrained laughter. The idea that Esaham University, the most prestigious in the nation where seats were as coveted as gold, would allow Fernanda to take the entrance exam was laughable. Clearly, this was a lie. Robert's demeanor hardened, his eyes narrowing with a frosty glare. He furrowed his brow in disapproval and said sternly, "Fernanda, how could you lie about being granted the opportunity to take the entrance exam for Esaham University? Was lying the only lesson you picked up in your little hometown?" "Honey, calm down," Michelle interjected quickly. "Fernanda was only trying to impress you." Turning to Fernanda with a soft, maternal expression, Michelle remarked in a soothing tone, "There's no shame in skipping college, Fernanda. You don't have to pretend or feel lesser because of it. We're family here, and we don't judge you on such matters." Her words, though gentle, were saturated with disbelief, assuming Fernanda was fabricating her story. Fernanda, without a word of defense, simply pulled out her smartphone. After a few taps, she pushed it across the table towards the center. Everyone leaned in to see the display. Erika's laughter stopped abruptly as she stared at the screen. Displayed prominently was Fernanda's Esaham University entrance exam admission ticket, complete with her photo and name in bold. Snatching the phone, Erika's eyes grew wide as she inspected it repeatedly. Her anger boiling over, she tossed it away and exclaimed, "This can't be real! You edited this, didn't you?" Chapter 4 This Girl Is Something Else "This isn't a photo--it's an online document," Fernanda stated in an even tone, her voice steady and clear. "Notice the Esaham University web address at the top?" Erika was at a loss for words. Her complexion lost its color as silence enveloped her. Entry to Esaham University was notoriously difficult, achievable only through the rigorous standardized exam or by excelling in the university's specialized admission test. This test was reserved for the truly outstanding, drawing candidates from diverse disciplines and making the chance to compete a rare gem. How did Fernanda manage to secure a spot to attend the admission test? Suddenly, Robert's hand was on Fernanda's phone, his eyes scanning the text again and again. Any annoyance he felt quickly dissipated, replaced by bubbling excitement. A rich, joyful laughter escaped him as he declared, "Brilliant, Fernanda! Absolutely brilliant!" The way Fernanda managed to secure such an incredible opportunity didn't concern him. What mattered most to him was the overwhelming pride he felt, knowing she had this chance to take the exam. With a stiff smile and a voice laced with tension, Michelle replied, "Yes, well done." "What's so great about that?" Erika scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. "It's not as if she's actually going to pass." "But it's certainly better than not being qualified to try at all, right?" Fernanda retorted smoothly. Color rushed to Erika's cheeks, her anger palpable. She slammed her fork down, the clatter echoing sharply. "I've had enough!" she declared vehemently, before storming off in a huff. After dinner, Robert and Michelle walked Fernanda to her cozy and thoughtfully prepared room. The room was airy and uncluttered, resonating with Fernanda's love for understated elegance. "Across the hall is your sister's room," Michelle explained, her voice carrying a warm undertone. "Next to yours is your elder brother's. He's often caught up with work commitments and rarely at home. Your younger brother, who's currently at a summer camp overseas, has his room beside Erika's." She continued, a smile softening her features, "If there's anything you need to make your stay more comfortable, please don't hesitate to tell me, dear." Robert watched Michelle with a look of quiet approval. "Thank you," Fernanda murmured, her eyes downcast as she spoke. "I think I'll take a shower now." At that, Robert and Michelle excused themselves, leaving Fernanda to her privacy. As she stepped under the spray, cool water washed over her, drenching her face and lending a luminous sheen to her eyes. They sparkled against the backdrop of water droplets on her lashes, enhancing the serene yet frosty allure of her features. Once out of the shower, Fernanda blow-dried her hair until it was just damp. As Fernanda from the bathroom, she dug through the suitcase and found a photo of Hiram Hammond. The photo was a solemn memorial portrait of Hiram. Though not bound to her by blood, he had nurtured her with unwavering care and affection. To Fernanda, he was her entire world, her only family. That cherished photo, a tribute to his memory, was something she couldn't afford to lose. Gazing at the kind, gentle face in the photo, Fernanda was enveloped by a surge of affection. With gentle hands, she cleaned the photograph and lovingly placed it on a side table in the room. Within the next two days, the villa had welcomed two additional guests--Michelle's nephew and niece. The man exhibited an unseemly l**tfulness, with his gaze persistently fixed on Fernanda whenever he could manage. Meanwhile, the woman had aligned herself with Erika, openly manifesting her contempt and animosity toward Fernanda through both overt and subtle jabs. Disenchanted by their presence, Fernanda chose to distance herself from the villa's stifling atmosphere. As the sun dawdled on the brink of the horizon, the evening air, warm yet prickled with tension, brushed against her. Seeking a brief escape, Fernanda wandered to a convenience store and picked up a can of cold beer. Positioned against a lamppost, she deftly popped open the can single-handedly. The refreshing chill of the beer soothed her throat as she drank. A slight tilt of her head caused the collar of her shirt to shift delicately, exposing the elegant contour of her collarbone. With an air of sophistication, her neck arched gracefully, like someone relishing a glass of champagne in an exclusive bar. Having savored the last drop, Fernanda tossed the can with a casual flick of her wrist, watching it arc smoothly into the bin with a satisfying clink. Not far off, someone hidden in the dim interior of a black sedan watched intently. Bobby, palpably impressed, turned to his companion and remarked with a mix of awe and admiration, "Cristian, this girl is something else!" Chapter 5 Attacked Cristian Reed, who was sprawling in the backseat, remained silent, his eyes firmly shut. "Wow, the girl is stunning! Check out those legs--so beautiful and flawless! Did you see her toss that can, Cristian? She's got skills that could rival yours!" Bobby's incessant babble finally pierced Cristian's reserve. With a sigh, Cristian's eyes fluttered open. Just then, the headlights from an approaching vehicle swept across his face, accentuating its angular contours and highlighting a small mole beneath his eye. Drawing out his words, Cristian replied with a lazy drawl, his voice a deep, soothing rumble laced with a trace of exhaustion, "Aren't you getting engaged soon? Isn't the eldest Morgan daughter meant to be yours?" Bobby visibly flinched at the mention, his expression contorting into one of clear distaste. "She's nothing but a stray who got lost as a child and grew up in some nowhere place. Who's to say she isn't just a goddamn ugly rural bumpkin? My friends probably see me as some unlucky fool. Cristian, you are my cousin. You should not make fun of me like they do!" Cristian merely crossed his arms, extending his long legs and settling back more comfortably without a word. The silence seemed to deepen Bobby's frustration, as if sealing his fate. Yet, as Bobby's eyes landed on the girl's striking figure under the streetlight again, his mood shifted, and a flicker of curiosity lit up his face. With a playful grin, Bobby lowered the window and leaned slightly out, his tone dripping with charm. "Hey there, gorgeous. Can I offer you a ride?" "No, thank you." Her words were crisp and frosty, cutting through the evening like a cold breeze, leaving a chill that touched both men. In the backseat, Cristian's body tensed. His eyes snapped open, his head whipping around toward the sound of the voice. That voice? It unmistakably belonged to the girl he had met in that dimly lit motel. Cristian acted with such swiftness that he seemed to blur the lines between thought and action as he swung the car door open and emerged. Fernanda mistook his approach for a mere flirtatious gesture. Without giving him another thought, she turned away and continued on her path. She had only taken a few steps when she felt a strong, unyielding grip halt her progress. She spun around, coming face-to-face with the man who had stopped her. Towering and strikingly handsome, he possessed an aura of undeniable presence. One hand was nonchalantly placed in his pocket, while the other securely grasped her arm. His piercing gaze locked with hers. "Well, if it isn't you!" Cristian muttered slowly, a hint of recognition in his voice. "Seems like we keep meeting, huh?" Fernanda's eyes flickered with surprise as she realized who he was--the man from that unforgettable night. Given that he was a dangerous fugitive, she wanted to keep her distance from him. Swiftly regaining her composure, she adopted an aloof demeanor. "I'm sorry, sir. You must be mistaken," she replied evenly. "No," Cristian responded, his voice low and steady, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "A debt of gratitude is something I never forget." His remark revealed a depth to his character. For Cristian, repaying a good deed wasn't just a courtesy--it was a principle he lived by. Meanwhile, Bobby had exited the car and now stood a short distance away, his expression one of utter bewilderment. "What's going on?" he inquired. Cristian brushed off Bobby's presence, focusing instead on holding the car door open for Fernanda with a subtle nod. Fernanda stayed rooted in place, her gaze sharp with caution. "What do you mean by that?" "I'd like to take you to dinner. Would you join me?" Cristian urged with a warm, inviting smile. It came across as a question, but Fernanda could discern from the inflection in his voice that he wasn't genuinely offering her an option to decline. Her familiarity with his nature left no room for misunderstanding. Refusing him might only provoke him to force her into the car himself. With a sigh, she gave a subdued nod. "Fine." A faint smile flickered across Cristian's face as he graciously gestured for her to enter, then smoothly took his place behind the wheel. Bobby blinked in shock, his mouth hanging open. "You've got to be kidding me, Cristian. This is incredible!" Cristian had effortlessly ensnared the alluring girl with a mere handful of words, an accomplishment Bobby found profoundly impressive. As Bobby tried the back door, he found it unexpectedly locked. "Cristian?" he inquired, a hint of confusion in his tone. Cristian commanded firmly, "Leave." Frozen in place in the brisk evening air, Bobby watched the sleek black car vanish into the shadows of the night. He was the first to spot the girl! Why had they left him behind? Inside the car, Cristian shattered the lingering silence by firing off a torrent of questions. "Are you from Esaham or Zhota?" "Zhota," she answered softly. "And your name?" "Letty Molina." "How old are you?" "Twenty-five," Fernanda replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Cristian stole a sideways glance at her, his voice laced with skepticism. "Doesn't seem like it." "Reality seldom mirrors our expectations," Fernanda replied, her tone unwavering. "Take your appearance, for instance. In that impeccable suit, you're the perfect picture of a business tycoon. Yet, you're the same fugitive I stumbled upon the other night." Cristian couldn't help but laugh, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You do have a point." Fernanda was finally no longer feigning ignorance about their past encounter. Cristian was relieved. Had she chosen to continue her charade, he had his own methods to have her drop the act. As usual, Esaham's traffic was a snarled mess. Cristian veered onto a less congested side street, hoping to evade the endless sea of cars. Breaking the silence, he suggested, "I know a cozy spot run by a Zhota native--serves excellent food. Let's head there." "Sure," she replied, her tone calm but firm. Just as Fernanda's reply hung in the air, a jarring crash echoed from behind, jolting the car forward. She was thrust back, the seatbelt gnawing into her shoulder. Cristian's gaze darted to the rearview mirror. Suddenly, a van cut sharply across their path, blocking them. On either side, vehicles converged, spilling out men brandishing grim tools, their silhouettes ominous in the dim streetlight. Without hesitation, Cristian reached into the center console, retrieving a kn*fe. "Whatever happens, keep yourself inside the car. Don't even think about stepping out," he instructed firmly, pressing her back into the seat. With a resolute nod, he went on, "I'll take care of them, and afterward, dinner's on me." Cristian wrapped up his conversation, offering Fernanda a fleeting smile that appeared untouched by the surrounding tension. Fernanda folded her arms and settled deeper into her seat, her face a mask of tranquility as she observed Cristian approach the group of armed adversaries. The scene was stark--one man facing off against a throng armed to the teeth. The odds were clearly not in his favor. Yet, as Cristian lifted his foot and dispatched two of the men to the ground with a single, silent kick, Fernanda took note of his precision and power. His technique spoke of extensive training and raw capability. The gang, incited by Cristian's defiance, rushed at him collectively. Sticks sliced through the air, each strike landing with a dense thud that echoed menace. Cristian, however, danced through the tumult with a grace that seemed almost serene. Despite their advantage in numbers, his assailants found themselves floundering to overpower him. One attacker received a blunt punch straight to the face, staggering backward and eventually collapsing against the hood of Cristian's car. As he dabbed at the bl**d dripping from his nose, the man snarled in rage. Catching sight of Fernanda inside the vehicle, a sinister idea sparked within him... ...... 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) &5& | Fragrant Fiction | 62 | https://www.facebook.com/61565957015132/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681504 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/13/25, 8:58 PM | 1738828444 | 1749866292 | 2478 | go.hfcwellness.com | Learn More | DCO | $97 New Patient Exam Special! | Limited Spots! | https://go.hfcwellness.com/97-new-patient-special-offer | 1.0435438298556E+14 | Health First Chiropractic & Wellness | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475980271_1152623033174519_8202753546007104855_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iILuE1dAiecQ7kNvgEPpKTm&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=AI2MUU60gqCj3U6bB0wLlfp&oh=00_AYAuKTwT72DrwwCgB99274ALQmZan4uXlIereR96FY-mFQ&oe=67AA40E3 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 👨⚕️ Talk to a Doctor—FREE 15-Minute Consultation! 🎁 Plus, Get a Free Memory Foam Pillow After Your New Patient Exam! Struggling with back pain or discomfort? We’re here to help! Schedule a FREE 15-minute call with one of our expert doctors to discuss your symptoms, explore options, and get tailored recommendations—all at no cost to you. 💡 Why Choose Us? 🏆 Voted BEST Chiropractic Practice in Richmond 2024! ✅ Trusted care from experienced professionals. ✅ Personalized recommendations for relief and correction. ✅ Access to advanced, non-invasive spinal care techniques. 🎉 Bonus Offer for New Patients: After your comprehensive New Patient Exam, you’ll receive a FREE Memory Foam Pillow (a $69 value!) designed to support your spinal health and comfort. | Health First Chiropractic & Wellness | 1502 | https://www.facebook.com/hfcwellness/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| 2681533 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/11/25, 5:48 AM | 1738828444 | 1749638908 | 2478 | fb.lovenovelshort.com | Learn more | VIDEO | Read all now👉 | https://fb.lovenovelshort.com/book/loading/page/novelshortnew/051054552235?utm_campaign={{campaign.id}}&utm_content={{campaign.name}} | 4.5569316428998E+14 | Novel Short - Emotional Story | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476005243_1023613472894299_4342876873619857611_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Xf80_ve4PVcQ7kNvgFWkRR9&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYDj9Dc9FkO7Kh8O0EqFg2VGQxMfIuX8zjLMRBQY03q-Qw&oe=67AA2789 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | I sat by the bay window of our penthouse suite, gazing at the city skyline under the crescent moon. Tonight marked five years since I bonded with Caleb Darkwood, Alpha of the Crescent Moon Pack and a wealthy werewolf billionaire. It should have been a night of celebration, but unspoken truths weighed heavily on my heart. Caleb had broken another promise. Instead of being with me, he’d gone to a pack council meeting in Zurich, taking Zara—his Beta’s sister and new “executive advisor”—with him. Her presence in his life felt too close for comfort. Her scent, a mix of vanilla and wild jasmine, often clung to his suits, something he refused to explain. When Caleb finally returned from his trip, it felt like an eternity. He stormed into the penthouse, his Armani suit sharp and his golden eyes glowing with restrained power. He brought a sapphire pendant, its blue sparkle as tempting as the promises he never kept. “It symbolizes our eternal bond,” he said, his tone soft as he fastened the necklace around my neck. His fingers lingered, their touch meant to soothe, but I could feel the subtle edge of guilt in his gestures. For a moment, I wanted to believe him, to hold onto the memory of the man I had once loved, the one who fought to win my heart. But as I looked out the window, I saw Zara below in the courtyard, laughing with a group of business associates. Zara wore a moonstone bracelet on her wrist, a symbol of affection and loyalty in werewolf tradition—something Caleb had once promised would be mine alone. I turned back to him, forcing a smile, but the image of Zara lingered in my mind like acid. Her laughter drifted up, carefree and sure, as if she believed she had already won. Days later, I overheard them in one of the pack’s boardrooms. Caleb’s deep, commanding voice carried through the partially closed door, tinged with the casual familiarity that had become my waking nightmare. “You’re overthinking it,” Caleb said, his tone laced with reassurance. “You’re underestimating her,” Zara replied sharply. “She’s not as blind as you think. Amalia knows something’s going on.” “She trusts me,” Caleb replied with a confidence that twisted my stomach. “That’s all that matters.” Their laughter that followed felt like a knife twisting in my gut, sharp and merciless. The breaking point came during a pack charity gala, held in one of Caleb’s luxury skyscrapers. Wolves mingled in their finest attire, sipping champagne and discussing business ventures under the glow of crystal chandeliers. I stood to the side in the emerald gown Caleb had insisted on buying, the sapphire pendant heavy around my neck. Across the room, Zara lingered near Caleb in a crimson gown, her every move calculated. She whispered to him, her hand brushing his arm. Caleb chuckled, his expression familiar. Then his gaze met mine. For a brief moment, guilt flashed in his eyes, but it quickly vanished. Later that night, Caleb tried to make amends. He presented me with a shimmering cloak of custom-spun silk, its fabric glinting like liquid silver. “It reminded me of you,” he said, draping it over my shoulders with practiced tenderness. I forced a smile, but inside, resentment boiled like a storm waiting to break. These gestures were nothing more than distractions, illusions meant to blind me to the truth. Caleb’s attentiveness grew suffocating after that. He began scheduling meetings around my availability, brought me roses imported from Italy, and lavished me with promises of private trips to exotic locations. But his efforts only deepened my resolve. One afternoon, I sought solace in the pack’s rooftop garden, high above the city streets. Instead, I found Zara standing by a fountain, her phone in hand. She glanced up, her blue eyes narrowing as I approached. “Luna,” she greeted with a syrupy smile. “Out for some fresh air? Caleb and I were just finalizing the expansion plans for our Singapore office. He’s quite the visionary, isn’t he?” Her words were deliberate, meant to provoke me. I didn’t bite. “Is that so?” I replied calmly. My gaze dropped to the delicate chain around her neck—a gold locket I had seen at Caleb’s office days ago. She smirked, sensing my gaze, and for a moment, her mask slipped. Beneath her polished exterior, she was a woman who took pleasure in my discomfort, seeing me not as Luna but as an obstacle. When the full moon arrived, Caleb spared no expense. The great hall of the skyscraper was turned into a glittering ballroom, filled with wolves and influential allies. “To more years of love and loyalty,” Caleb declared, presenting me with a ruby pendant said to be carved from the heart of a fallen star. He fastened the chain around my neck, the crowd erupting in applause. I smiled as Caleb kissed my cheek, but my fingers gripped the gemstone tightly. In the shadows, I saw Zara watching, her jealousy barely hidden. They thought I was weak. That I’d stay silent. They were wrong. The next morning, I stood in the migration office, a sleek, modern space tucked away from the pack’s primary headquarters. “Ms. Amelia Wren, your allegiance to the Crescent Moon Pack has been officially renounced,” the clerk said, stamping the final document. “Shall I process your Luna bond dissolution?” “Yes,” I replied, my voice steady. “This is irreversible,” she warned. “Once the bond is broken, your mate will no longer sense or track you.” “That’s precisely what I want.” I smiled at her and slid an envelope of cash across the counter. “And that ensures confidentiality.” The ruby pendant weighed heavily around my neck as I left, its sparkle a cruel reminder of the life I was leaving behind. In the town square, a massive screen displayed Caleb’s latest press conference: “Alpha Caleb Darkwood Secures Legendary Ruby for His Luna.” Fascinating, right? The crowd murmured about how perfect we were. Perfect? They had no idea. Chapter 02 The unraveling began one night. I had come home late from a high-profile meeting with the board of Crescent Moon Enterprises, the sprawling tech and real estate empire Caleb ran as Alpha of the Crescent Moon Pack. The weight of the business dealings and the constant pressure of being his Luna and his corporate partner had me exhausted. Caleb was asleep in our penthouse, his muscular frame sprawled across the silk sheets of our massive bed. The soft glow of city lights filtered through the windows, casting shadows on his peaceful face. At first, everything seemed normal. But then I saw it. A photo. I grabbed it. Stared at something obvious in the image. The brunette strand of hair resting on Caleb’s chest—it wasn’t mine. I froze, my breath catching, my heart skipping a beat. I clenched my fists, the photo burning in my hand. But I couldn’t react just yet. I approached the bed slowly, my pulse racing, forcing myself to stay calm. I already knew the answer—I just needed confirmation. "Who is she, Caleb?" I asked, my voice steady, betraying none of the fury building inside me. Caleb blinked awake, confusion flickering across his face before it shifted to an easy calm, his usual corporate mask slipping into place. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, his golden eyes glinting with that familiar controlled power. "Lia, don’t start. You know my loyalty is to you and the pack." I held up the photo. "Explain this." He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair, his expression adopting that all-too-familiar calm. "It’s not what you think. Zara stayed late to go over some financial reports and property acquisitions for the pack. She must have—" "Must have what?" I cut him off, my voice rising, the tension thickening the air. "Accidentally left a piece of herself in our bed?" His jaw tightened, the calm slipping for just a second. "You don’t understand the pressure of being Alpha, Amalia. The pack needs unity, and Zara is essential to keeping everything running smoothly. She’s been handling the business side of things so I can focus on the pack." I didn’t say anything. His words felt like a cheap excuse. A lie. That night, as Caleb slept beside me, I sat up, holding the photo in my hands. I reached for the pen and paper in the drawer and wrote a goodbye letter—though I wasn’t ready to use it yet. Something inside me had shifted. The trust I once had in Caleb was gone, and I wasn’t sure it could be repaired. A week later, Caleb hosted a lavish event in the pack’s penthouse at Crescent Moon Tower. The gala was filled with wolves in business suits, influential allies, and powerful werewolves from around the world. Caleb stood at the center of the room in a tailored Armani suit, exuding power as both a businessman and Alpha. He presented me with another ruby necklace, its red gem gleaming in the light. He kissed my cheek as he fastened it around my neck. "Forgive me," he murmured, but there was no real remorse in his voice. The crowd cheered, but I barely noticed. Across the room, Zara stood in a tight emerald dress, her eyes fixed on me, filled with barely hidden jealousy. She didn’t just want Caleb—she wanted my place, my title, my life as Luna. Zara’s true nature was starting to show, not just to me but to everyone around her. She wasn’t content being Caleb’s business partner or his trusted executive advisor. She wanted everything. And Caleb... Caleb was blind to it, or perhaps, he didn’t care enough to notice. The cracks deepened after that night. At a council meeting, I proposed an alliance with the Bloodstone Pack, a rival group in the tech sector. The deal would give us a foothold in their territory and secure more contracts. But as soon as I presented the proposal, Zara quickly undermined me. “I’m sure Luna Amalia means well,” Zara said sweetly, her voice sugar-coated. “But wouldn’t it be a bit too risky for Crescent Moon Enterprises to tie itself with Bloodstone right now?” She didn’t even look at me as she spoke, her tone laced with a passive-aggressive edge. Caleb didn’t even bother to defend me. He simply stayed silent, his eyes unreadable, his face expressionless. The silence was worse than anything she could’ve said. At a corporate harvest festival hosted by the pack’s elite, Zara found another way to dig her claws into me. She brought me honey cakes—my favorite treat, the one Caleb had once promised never to let anyone else offer me to ensure the ingredients will be safe for me for I have an allergy. “Caleb told me how much you love them,” she said with a fake innocence, holding the plate out to me with a sweet smile. I managed to force a polite smile. "Thank you, Zara. This is so sweet of you." Later that evening, I overheard her talking to Tyrian, one of the pack’s scouts, in hushed tones. "She doesn’t deserve him," Zara hissed. "She’s weak. A rogue pretending to be Luna." I felt the sting of her words like a slap to my face. She wasn’t wrong. I had once been an outsider. But Caleb fought for me to be part of his pack. That night, I retreated to my hidden sanctuary beneath the penthouse, a space I had created for myself, away from Caleb. Here, I kept my escape plans—plans I wasn’t ready to act on yet but knew I would need. I stared at the newest ruby necklace Caleb had given me. Its weight felt suffocating, a symbol of everything wrong in my life. Chapter 03 Caleb insisted on another dinner celebration for our anniversary. He’d been busy with work all week, managing his empire that he had built from the ground up. I wasn’t sure if he genuinely wanted to celebrate us or if it was just another way to keep up appearances, but I went along with it anyway. Even disregarding what I saw and heard from Zara earlier. At the office, Zara intentionally flaunted to her office mates her new diamond ring given to her by rich boyfriend when she saw me stepping out of Caleb’s office. Rich boyfriend, huh?! Tsk. I sourly looked at Caleb. How could he calmly cheat on me and continue acting so loving and caring? What an actor! We were halfway to the restaurant when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, and his jaw tightened. “An urgent issue at the company,” he said, his voice clipped. “I’ll drop you off and join you later.” I smiled, the kind of smile I had perfected over the years. "Sure, no problem." But something inside me didn’t buy it. Something about the way he said it, the quick glance at the phone—something wasn’t right. It’s Zara. Obviously. As the car veered toward the company’s building instead of the restaurant, I caught a faint but familiar scent in the air. Zara. Again. Her vanilla and wild jasmine scent lingered in the car, as though she had just been there. I pushed the thought away. The more I think of Zara, the more she pisses me off. That night, I waited for Caleb in the sitting room. It was well past midnight when he finally walked in, surprised to see me still awake. His eyes widened when he saw the small box in my hands. "Recognize this?" I asked, my voice steady despite the tightness in my chest. He froze, taking in the mementos inside: movie tickets, a dried lavender sprig, and a photo from our first run together under the full moon. Old memories, moments that once felt real. His expression softened as he reached for the box. "I’ll fix us, Lia," he whispered, almost pleading. "I swear." I handed him a sealed envelope. "Open this on the next full moon. It’s my gift to you," I said, unsure if I meant it. He took the envelope, looking confused, but didn’t question me. He gave me a half-smile and left without another word. The days leading up to the full moon were a blur. I couldn’t focus on anything except the growing tension between Caleb and me. Something had shifted in him, but I couldn’t pinpoint what. The business was clearly becoming more important to him, and I saw it in his face, his distance, and especially in how often he spent time with Zara. I went to see Astrid, the pack’s doctor, and my closest confidant. She was one of the few people I trusted completely. We met in her small, cozy apartment. “Are you sure of your plans?” Astrid asked me. She knew my plan to cut my ties with Caleb and the pack. “Zara’s ambitious. She’s dangerous, Lia. She won’t stop until she’s sitting in your seat. You need to stay sharp." “There was hesitation, yes. A small part of me questioned if I was making the right decision. But the larger part—” I stared at Astrid, “the part that had been watching Caleb and Zara for weeks now, the way they exchanged glances, the way his eyes softened when she spoke… I was done with waiting and playing a good Luna, Astrid. I wasn’t about to let this continue. If this was the path I was going to take, I wasn’t going to lose.” Later that afternoon, I took matters into my own hands. The marketplace was as busy as ever, and I made sure my words reached the right ears. I wasn’t subtle. I spread rumors about Zara’s growing influence and her plan to replace me. By the time I left, I knew the whispers had already started. I had time, but not much. Soon, everyone would know the truth: Zara was trying to take everything from me. Caleb, however, seemed oblivious—or maybe he didn’t care. I had no more time to waste. That evening, I decided to clear my mind with a walk through the estate grounds. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, the rustling leaves matching the swirl of thoughts racing through my mind. I didn’t want to admit, but the weight of everything—Caleb’s betrayal, Zara’s scheming, the entire pack watching my every move—was overwhelming. I had to make a decision, but I needed clarity. Time to stop being reactive and take control. As I walked into the park, I heard footsteps—quiet, almost too quiet. My wolf, Bella, instantly alerted, my heart rate spiking. I wasn’t alone. From the shadows, a tall figure emerged, his amber eyes glowing under the moonlight. He wasn’t from the pack, I could tell. His presence was strong and calm, unlike anyone I’d met. He didn’t seem to have an agenda, but there was something magnetic about him, like he was exactly what I needed right now. "You look like someone about to take down a kingdom," he said, his voice low and oddly familiar. I raised an eyebrow. "And what if I am?" A slow, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Then you’re not alone." “It’s not a kingdom,” I smiled bitterly. “An empire.” “I think you might want my help…” He grinned. “For what cost?” “Just promise you will leave Caleb…” I frowned. Not that I care anymore for Caleb, but why did he want that? “Who are you?” I asked. He grinned again. “Your knight.” “I don't need a knight.” I turned my back on him. I walked away and went straight to my husband’s tower. My husband’s tower, indeed, for I will soon leave him and all he possesses before the next full moon. Chapter 04 I sneered the moment Caleb turned around for he needed to leave early for another “urgent meeting.” I sipped my coffee, the bitterness grounding me as I mentally replayed Zara’s smug words. “She’s not as blind as you think.” Zara’s voice dripped with confidence when she stated that. The nerve of her! I squinted my eyes and sighed to calm myself. She was right—I wasn’t blind. But I had allowed myself to be silent. She could continue rejoicing but it will be no longer. I had spent the last few days quietly observing, piecing together the clues they so carelessly left behind. Caleb was growing bolder in his deceit, and Zara was more than happy to flaunt her supposed victory. But I wasn’t ready to lose—not yet. The next step of my plan was the corporate stronghold. The air inside Crescent Moon Tower buzzed with efficiency, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with expensive cologne. Zara was perched behind Caleb’s desk, her manicured fingers tapping at a keyboard. “Luna,” Zara said, her tone a mix of mockery and forced politeness. “To what do we owe the pleasure?” I ignored her. I gazed over the office, wandering. Caleb’s chair was angled slightly toward hers, their closeness unmistakable. On the desk was a gold locket—one I had seen Caleb gave her at a gala. “I just wanted to check on the expansion plans for the Bloodstone territory,” I replied, keeping my voice even. Calm. Her lips curled into a smirk. “Oh, those? Caleb and I discussed them last night. He agrees with me—it's too risky to proceed right now. But of course, we value your input.” The barb was subtle but clear. She wanted me to feel irrelevant, powerless. I refused to take the bait. I smiled so sweetly that she could get diabetes. “Good,” I said. “Because I’ll be presenting an updated proposal to the council next week. After all, Caleb does value unity within the pack, right?” Her smirk faltered for a fraction of a second before she recovered. “Of… of course,” she said smoothly after almost stuttering, her gaze sharpening. Satisfied seeing how I’d left her uneasy with just like that, I turned and walked out. As I stepped into the elevator, my fingers itched to crush the phone in my hand. Instead, I pulled up a number to call. Ethan—the one I had met at the park nights ago. I had no idea actually why Ethan looked for me. He said he wanted to help. Even though I was curious about his reasons, still it’s unnecessary to ask. His offer was all I needed. For now. Ethan answered on the second ring, his voice calm and steady. “Amalia.” “I’m ready to talk,” I hushed. Ethan chuckled. I wanna drop the call because he didn't sound serious at all. Then, he informed me where and when we will talk personally. He ended the call and I was left staring at his number on my phone’s screen. I sighed and went to the penthouse. That evening, I met Ethan in a secluded corner of the rooftop garden. The city lights glittered below, the air thick with the scent of pine and damp earth. He leaned casually against the railing, his amber eyes reflecting the moonlight. “So,” he began, his tone teasing, “ready to take down the empire now?” I folded my arms, meeting his gaze head-on. “Not yet. But I’ll need your help when I start.” His grin widened, and for a moment, I forgot why I had been so wary of him. Ethan exuded a confidence that was magnetic, reassuring even. “Smart move,” he said. “But if you want my help, you need to know something first.” I raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that?” He stepped closer, the air between us changed. “Caleb isn’t just cheating on you with Zara. He’s been funneling pack funds into secret accounts—accounts tied to Zara’s name.” The words hit me like a blow, but I didn’t let my expression falter. “How… How do you know this?” Ethan snickered. “Let’s just say I have my sources. And I have proof, if…” he trailed off and stared at my eyes, “if only you’re interested.” I hesitated. I gulped. The weight of his words sinking in. Ethan wasn’t just offering me a lifeline; he was offering me a weapon. I gazed at him. Searching for something I didn't actually need to look for. I blinked and stepped back from him. “Send me the proof,” I said finally, my voice steady. “And don’t think for a second that I trust you.” His laughter was low and rich, like the rumble of thunder. “Fair enough. But trust me when I say this—Caleb’s downfall will be your salvation, Lia.” I nodded. I’m out of words looking at him. Must I trust him? ‘Yes!’ Bella excitedly answered. “Are you with me or not?” Ethan asked with another grin on his lips. I nodded slowly. “I wanna hear confirmation, Lia.” “Me being here is already a confirmation, Ethan.” “It’s just yes or no, Lia. Are you with me or not?” I pursed my lips. “Yes, I am…” “You are?” “With you…” I didn’t know why it’s hard for me to say that. Not because I care much for still being married to Caleb. It's just that I felt there was another deep meaning of it as I say it. “With me.” Ethan smiled widely at me. “Why do I feel you are sounding nervous?” “Enough with your teasing tone, Mr—” I was lost. I had no idea of his last name. Much as I wanted formality, I can’t go through it because I only know his first name. “Ethan Wolfhart.” He smiled. “Mr. Wolfhart then.” I squinted my eyes. “And I meant it, please stop your teasing tone. I’m not used to it and—” I ended what I was saying. I sighed. “And?” “I’m not here making friends with you…” I stated. “I hope you get what I mean.” “I told you to fix it!” Caleb barked. He was pacing the living room with his phone pressed to his ear. “I don’t care how it happens—just make sure it’s handled before the council meeting!” He spotted me hovering at the edge of the room and, like magic, the rage vanished. His face smoothed into something softer, a mask that I’d once believed was real. “Morning, Lia,” he said with a warm tone. He moved toward me, his smile so polished. “Did I wake you?” “No,” I lied, watching him closely. “Everything okay?” “Just pack matters,” he replied with a dismissive wave. “Nothing you need to worry about.” He leaned in to kiss my cheek, and I let him. His lips brushed my skin, but the gesture was empty, hollow. A habit, not a connection. As he disappeared into his office, I retreated back to the master’s bedroom. My phone was still on the desk where I’d left it. Ethan’s message from stared back at me. ETHAN: Check your email. My heart thudded as I opened the email. The attachments loaded one by one: bank transfers, encrypted messages, photographs of Caleb and Zara in shadowy corners of Crescent Moon Tower. My hands trembled as I scrolled through the damning evidence. Ethan hadn’t been exaggerating. This wasn’t just betrayal—it was calculated, ruthless. The final attachment was a video, dated last week. I hit play, and the air seemed to drain from the room. Caleb and Zara were in a private boardroom. Zara leaned casually against the table, her smirk sharp enough to cut. “She’ll figure it out eventually,” Zara said, her tone half-warning, half-mocking. “You can’t hide everything forever. You should divorce her and make me—” “I love her.” Caleb leaned back, smirking. “And Amalia doesn’t need to know. As long as she loves me, we’re fine.” Zara raised an eyebrow. “And when she realizes about us?” | Novel Short - Emotional Story | 4816 | https://www.facebook.com/61567072857011/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| 2681554 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 4/26/25, 10:47 AM | 1738828445 | 1745682420 | 2478 | fb.me | Get offer | VIDEO | [Only $49] Consultation & First Treatment Special | ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ | http://fb.me/ | 1.0864236586403E+14 | Symmetry Chiropractic & Acupuncture | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/426449069_361875839987461_4538445291546374097_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=yMVpKxNukegQ7kNvgG2PyD6&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYA_lqucppDqjZLzPp2srEFs2Me4RUtDl10rl32s65vMVQ&oe=67AA4492 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 👋 Hey Naperville And Surrounding Area Residents Pain can go fast! SoftWave™ Therapy is the one-of-kind all natural miracle treatment everyone is talking about! SoftWave™ Therapy is an advanced treatment that utilizes harmless, yet powerful electrohydraulic shockwaves that help 𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 to activate the bodies accelerated healing process! Some of the common conditions that have been successfully treated With SoftWave™ Therapy include: ✅ Back & Neck Pain ✅ Knee Pain/Arthritis ✅ Disc Herniation ✅ Sciatica/Pinched Nerve ✅ Spinal Stenosis ✅ Plantar Fasciitis/Heel Spur ✅ Carpal Tunnel Syndrome ✅ Trigger Finger ✅ Hand & Finger Arthritis ✅ Tennis/Golfer’s Elbow ✅ Rotator Cuff/Labral Tear ✅ Peripheral Neuropathy ✅ Post-Surgical Pain/Scar Tissue For a limited time, we will be offering our community their first SoftWave™ Therapy treatment for just $49! First come, first served! 📍 3108 Illinois Rte 59 #124, Naperville, IL 60564 | Symmetry Chiropractic & Acupuncture | 1663 | https://www.facebook.com/SymmetryChiropracticAndAcupuncture/ | 0 | GET_OFFER | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681555 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 5/8/25, 3:02 AM | 1738828445 | 1746691365 | 2478 | fb.me | Get offer | VIDEO | [Only $49] Consultation & First Treatment Special | ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ | http://fb.me/ | 1.0864236586403E+14 | Symmetry Chiropractic & Acupuncture | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469809911_586992267118891_6472843024458351530_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=UPwdAkJDqxsQ7kNvgGpjKyX&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYALK2Jn_4UPwFuvMmdBz4RN55a78yTYp2wHD1KhQ0AdYQ&oe=67AA31C8 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 👋 Hey Naperville And Surrounding Area Residents Pain can go fast! SoftWave™ Therapy is the one-of-kind all natural miracle treatment everyone is talking about! SoftWave™ Therapy is an advanced treatment that utilizes harmless, yet powerful electrohydraulic shockwaves that help 𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 to activate the bodies accelerated healing process! Some of the common conditions that have been successfully treated With SoftWave™ Therapy include: ✅ Back & Neck Pain ✅ Knee Pain/Arthritis ✅ Disc Herniation ✅ Sciatica/Pinched Nerve ✅ Spinal Stenosis ✅ Plantar Fasciitis/Heel Spur ✅ Carpal Tunnel Syndrome ✅ Trigger Finger ✅ Hand & Finger Arthritis ✅ Tennis/Golfer’s Elbow ✅ Rotator Cuff/Labral Tear ✅ Peripheral Neuropathy ✅ Post-Surgical Pain/Scar Tissue For a limited time, we will be offering our community their first SoftWave™ Therapy treatment for just $49! First come, first served! 📍 3108 Illinois Rte 59 #124, Naperville, IL 60564 | Symmetry Chiropractic & Acupuncture | 1663 | https://www.facebook.com/SymmetryChiropracticAndAcupuncture/ | 0 | GET_OFFER | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681562 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 5/7/25, 9:53 AM | 1738828445 | 1746629621 | 2478 | www.D1Training.com | Get offer | VIDEO | FREE VIP WORKOUT | 15 Spots Available | http://www.D1Training.com/ | 1.0235368834833E+14 | D1 Training Middletown | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475869804_1139263824356251_3471194328064903542_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=hluVgLOzxwIQ7kNvgH_GJbo&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYDqSeCiEHRBjd8rTfsTbQvcU9f8xvQF5sfsORbHdQ2ocg&oe=67AA2CA0 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | ⭐️HEY MEN IN THE MIDDLETOWN AREA👇 Have you heard about D1 Training in Middletown?! We understand starting a fitness journey can be nerve-wracking, but we're here to support you every step of the way. That's why we're offering 15 Men a FREE VIP WORKOUT❗️ D1 Training provides men with customized programming to help achieve your fitness goals. Our 5-Star⭐️ Training Program is based on a Division 1 strength & conditioning program and includes a dynamic warm-up, performance, strength, core & conditioning, and a cool-down stretch. We get it – stepping into a new fitness environment can be intimidating. That's why every workout at D1 Training is led by a certified coach who offers guidance and motivation, creating a supportive atmosphere to help ease any nerves. Our state-of-the-art facility features the same multilayered synthetic turf and top-of-the-line equipment used by top universities and professional athletes🤩 At D1 Training, we're more than just a gym; we're a community. We're dedicated to providing a proven, professional, positive, and peer-supported environment. Click ‘Get Offer’ now and enter your information on the next page to secure your spot for a 𝙁𝙍𝙀𝙀 VIP Workout! P.s. We have 15 spots available, first come first serve. Don't let nerves hold you back – take the first step towards a healthier, happier you! | D1 Training Middletown | 645 | https://www.facebook.com/D1Middletown/ | 0 | GET_OFFER | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681564 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/12/25, 5:17 AM | 1738828445 | 1749723448 | 2478 | totalmotioneducation.com | Learn More | CAROUSEL | https://www.totalmotioneducation.com/instanttraining/?utm_source=FB&utm_medium=%7B%7Badset.name%7D%7D&utm_campaign=%7B%7Bcampaign.name%7D%7D&utm_content=%7B%7Bad.name%7D%7D&utm_term=%7B%7Bad.id%7D%7D | 99550178243 | Total Motion Release | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476357520_1297098381435586_3713447851943171373_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=6hL_NozRu8MQ7kNvgH7gUUI&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYCnN1y_H78ckYK-Dke3fEg7jp1ZQDMFPbzoBSL-Ts7uEw&oe=67AA38DA | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Total Motion Release | 2013 | https://www.facebook.com/tmrseminars/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681571 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 5/1/25, 11:48 PM | 1738828445 | 1746161329 | 2478 | instagram.com | Visit Instagram profile | VIDEO | http://instagram.com/discomfort2travel | 5.430699455478E+14 | discomfort2travel | https://scontent.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-19/470060914_591382216618111_5167286576264669238_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s206x206_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=525117&_nc_ohc=TiN0NX-b7JkQ7kNvgHsWfXw&_nc_zt=24&_nc_ht=scontent.cdninstagram.com&oh=00_AYBj_rEAl6Jh0lfv7rRWiB6fnYSzCkttYjIdzgRQUeXyvQ&oe=67AA50FF | IG_ADS_IDENTITY | 1 | 0 | #fypシ #viral #TravelMore #travel #wanderlust #travelgoals #travelgram #stepoutofyourcomfortzone #DiscomfortZone #love #discomfort2travel | discomfort2travel | 0 | https://www.instagram.com/_u/discomfort2travel | 0 | VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681572 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/10/25, 7:51 AM | 1738828445 | 1749559913 | 2478 | arialief.digital | Watch More | DCO | Simplicity in Daily Routine. | More than 22.398 people have viewed it. | https://www.arialief.digital/ | 5.3309933322672E+14 | Pietra De Souza | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475978497_983859280310594_6587331114812399550_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=tZvMWk1QBigQ7kNvgGDWkt5&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYAeUO9vnebMIO0qN0FFcsYxggkxGc-09r2HjmkyTwqIQw&oe=67AA577F | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | The yellow vitamin that supports balance and simplifies daily.😍 | Pietra De Souza | 2 | https://www.facebook.com/61572313935891/ | 0 | WATCH_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681576 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 3/3/25, 3:16 AM | 1738828445 | 1740993385 | 2478 | arialief.digital | Learn More | DCO | Yellow Vitamin Simplified | A balanced approach designed for daily comfort. | https://www.arialief.digital/ | 5.3309933322672E+14 | Pietra De Souza | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476236526_602730209388703_6133086950474658256_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=isRflpmuimgQ7kNvgGq3cSK&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYDMONcnKq92tNNVasgGtQ12c5oQK0pSYwRaIQKDJojdLA&oe=67AA3EAA | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | With a carefully developed composition, the yellow vitamin is part of a simple and balanced daily care. | Pietra De Souza | 2 | https://www.facebook.com/61572313935891/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681579 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 3/3/25, 3:16 AM | 1738828445 | 1740993385 | 2478 | arialief.digital | Learn More | DCO | Yellow Vitamin Simplified | A balanced approach designed for daily comfort. | https://www.arialief.digital/ | 5.3309933322672E+14 | Pietra De Souza | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476236526_602730209388703_6133086950474658256_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=isRflpmuimgQ7kNvgGq3cSK&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYDMONcnKq92tNNVasgGtQ12c5oQK0pSYwRaIQKDJojdLA&oe=67AA3EAA | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | With a carefully developed composition, the yellow vitamin is part of a simple and balanced daily care. | Pietra De Souza | 2 | https://www.facebook.com/61572313935891/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681591 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 4/28/25, 1:00 PM | 1738828445 | 1745863232 | 2478 | arialief.digital | Learn More | DCO | Yellow Vitamin Simplified | A balanced approach designed for daily comfort. | https://www.arialief.digital/ | 5.3309933322672E+14 | Pietra De Souza | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475835266_1185676752995061_7124251255540415593_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=VLVc30kmBtQQ7kNvgE5e0sV&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYBfO6bjQNJBOs69U-7HtoRcJhtCMnLkVnNjsMaspzgPfw&oe=67AA2A85 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | With a carefully developed composition, the yellow vitamin is part of a simple and balanced daily care. | Pietra De Souza | 2 | https://www.facebook.com/61572313935891/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681596 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 3/3/25, 3:16 AM | 1738828446 | 1740993386 | 2478 | arialief.digital | Learn More | DCO | Yellow Vitamin Simplified | A balanced approach designed for daily comfort. | https://www.arialief.digital/ | 5.3309933322672E+14 | Pietra De Souza | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476230666_451386417931962_433010422203689701_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=MqPL5gz2r7YQ7kNvgEitRLA&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYA-DdHu6pBoMnVq2lzCDiWyU2Zqw7-kKLZYYvQWQ0tkHA&oe=67AA2DA4 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Simple, balanced, and essential: the yellow vitamin for our daily care. | Pietra De Souza | 2 | https://www.facebook.com/61572313935891/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681597 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 3/3/25, 3:16 AM | 1738828446 | 1740993386 | 2478 | arialief.digital | Learn More | DCO | Yellow Vitamin Simplified | A balanced approach designed for daily comfort. | https://www.arialief.digital/ | 5.3309933322672E+14 | Pietra De Souza | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476230666_451386417931962_433010422203689701_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=MqPL5gz2r7YQ7kNvgEitRLA&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYA-DdHu6pBoMnVq2lzCDiWyU2Zqw7-kKLZYYvQWQ0tkHA&oe=67AA2DA4 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Simple, balanced, and essential: the yellow vitamin for our daily care. | Pietra De Souza | 2 | https://www.facebook.com/61572313935891/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681485 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/12/25, 10:42 AM | 1738828443 | 1749742971 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | IMAGE | His Scorned Bride Turned Out To Be Legendary | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67179322-fb_contact-enj83_6-0110-c3-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=060236&accid=985743679749990&exdata=D6FAA275DE3CB4323F4027CB9890AEED85102F5F18866F8D | 4.3210510665256E+14 | Fragrant Fiction | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475231722_1276096396946443_4328499796682482757_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=vKLCm01x228Q7kNvgGBO7rB&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYAQJz6Ei91p6S0ykU_26vyb4Qfoc9Scd9oZ-FWWfXXn7Q&oe=67AA372F | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Rumors claimed she was an uneducated, hot-tempered bumpkin. She sneered and revealed her true identity as a renowned designer, gaming pro, celebrated artist, and business tycoon, leaving everyone stunned! ===== "We're here to escort you home, Miss Morgan." "Your parents have been tirelessly searching for you over the years. Upon discovering your whereabouts, they promptly dispatched us to ensure your return." Fernanda Morgan surveyed the men in crisply tailored suits who stood before her, he appeared to be a butler. "Moreover, the Harper family is keenly anticipating your return. You are to be engaged to Mr. Harper once you return!" "Alright then. Let's go," Fernanda agreed with a slight nod. She collected her already-packed belongings and stepped into the vehicle. The journey from the small town of Zhota to Esaham was a long one, spanning at least two days by car. As dusk enveloped the sky, they pulled into another small town. The butler located a modestly appealing motel and proposed they stay overnight. Fernanda's accommodation was at the far end of the second-floor hallway, Room 201--arguably the best room available. The butler and the rest of their group opted to stay on the lower floor. The night was unusually warm and dry, rendering the room's aging air conditioner useless. Fernanda opened the window to invite a cool breeze, causing the curtains to dance gently in the evening air. Fresh from her shower, she dimmed the lights and crawled into bed for the night. Drifting into a light sleep, she was jolted awake by a disturbance outside. A subsequent noise at the window snapped her to full alert. As she bolted upright, a shadowy figure burst through, launching itself onto her bed. The freezing touch of a bl*de hovered at her neck as a low, threatening voice growled, "Don't you dare move." Immobile, Fernanda's body clenched in fear. The faint, iron tang of bl**d lingered on the man's sleeve--a grim reminder of his dangerousness. This unmistakable hint solidified the fact: this man was no one to mess with. Outside, the commotion intensified. Shortly after, a forceful knock resonated at the door. A coarse voice demanded, "Is anyone there? Open up now!" As the voice still echoed, the kn*fe at Fernanda's neck dug in slightly deeper. The man's voice dripped with malice as he warned, "Get rid of them, or you're as good as dead." His right arm ensnared her waist, his left hand unwavering with the kn*fe at her throat. Through his firm grip and calculated movements, Fernanda realized he was deadly serious. Cornered, she knew she had to play along for the time being. "Sure." With a soft, steady voice, Fernanda reassured him. "It'll all be okay." With no answer from inside, the outsiders used a master key to unlock the door and stormed in. At the sound, the man jerked Fernanda's baggy T-shirt, pulling her down onto his lap and encircling her with his arm, forcing her to straddle him as he shifted position. Right then, the door flung open, and a stark beam of flashlight flooded the room. Fernanda let out a panicked scream, quickly bending over the man to obscure him from view. "Sweetheart, what the hell is this place? How could anyone have the audacity to barge in like that?" Acting as though she was terrified, Fernanda held onto the man, her grip firm and desperate. Her voice, usually sweet and enticing, now carried an edge of annoyance mingled with a breathless charm that was utterly captivating. Suddenly, Fernanda felt the man beneath her tense up. Seconds later, he encircled her with his arm and expertly flipped over, drawing the blanket over both their bodies. As the blanket slid, its soft whispers merged with the steady rhythm of their breaths, painting a scene of understated sensuality. Faces flushed with embarrassment, the group at the door stood stiffly, unprepared for the private display before them. Nonetheless, the couple inside the room showed no signs of halting their intimate exchange. The motel's security guard chuckled uncomfortably, "Looks like they're pretty busy... Maybe we ought to leave, huh?" One of the men brushed past the guard and entered the room with a purposeful stride. Fernanda's heartbeat skyrocketed as she heard the footsteps drawing near. Could they actually be contemplating unveiling them? A chilling bl*de pressed against her side, its pointed tip grazing her skin, sending a shiver through her already tense body. The footsteps halted next to the bed, and with a surge of courage, Fernanda leaned in closer to the man beneath her. Pulled back gently, the blanket gave way to the flashlight's piercing light, exposing a glimpse of her delicate, b*re back. In the softness of the bed, their movements continued unabated. Fernanda's lips met his in a fervent kiss, her hair cascading down to obscure his face, while his hand gently caressed her side. The subdued m**ns that slipped from their lips lent the scene an air of genuine intimacy. Abruptly, a voice erupted from beyond the room, piercing the tranquility. "Boss! Something's going down out on the street!" Instantly, the man at the bedside sprang to his feet and vanished through the door. With the door slamming behind him, Fernanda disentangled herself and slipped from the bed. Moonlight seeped through a crack in the curtains, casting delicate shadows across the room. The man watched as Fernanda's slender figure was silhouetted against the pale light. Memories of earlier washed over him; his fingers traced her skin, so smooth and velvety. She had gripped his arms, her delicate skin pressing softly against his. Her hair had brushed his face, each strand silky, carrying a subtle fragrance. Her voice had been a soft melody, soothing to his ears. This woman was serene and astute. Amid the intrusion, rather than succumb to panic, she had pressed her lips to his, a kiss so convincing it had deceived the pursuers. Her technique was rather clumsy, only pressing her lips against his without any other movement--evidently her first kiss. Breaking the ensuing quiet, the man's voice softened from its usual sternness to a rasp tinged with all**re. "Was that your first kiss?" Chapter 2 That's Gross With deliberate movements, Fernanda pulled out a piece of clothing from her suitcase, her voice sharp and cool. "This is none of your concern. I think it's time for you to leave." All she desired at that moment was to hasten the man's departure. Barely a moment before, when he had embraced her, his fingers had brushed against her back, lingering just a moment too long. The calluses on his fingertips were coarse, betraying more wear than most. His adeptness with a knife and his swift reflexes hinted at a background that was far from ordinary. Cutting off the thought immediately, Fernanda dismissed any curiosity about his background. From below, the blare of a car horn shattered the silence. The man stood up smoothly. During their earlier intimacy, he had loosened his shirt, though his trousers remained crisply in place. He buttoned his shirt as he approached the window and casually tossed something to Fernanda. "My apologies for any discomfort caused earlier. Consider this your compensation," he said with a nod. With the graceful precision of a panther, he sprang out of the window. Fernanda approached the window, peering out into the night where, under the faint illumination of the streetlights, she observed him scale the wall effortlessly. He navigated the ledges until he merged with the shadows. She stooped to retrieve the object he had left--a sleek black card. The night's disruptions had been met with suitable compensation--a fair recompense. Fernanda pocketed the card and drew the curtains closed. The following morning, the butler approached Fernanda with a look of concern etched across his face. "Miss Morgan, I hope you managed to rest last night. There was an inspection for a burglary, which stirred quite the disturbance." She shrugged casually and muttered, "It was fine." As they drove, the butler stole glances at Fernanda through the rearview mirror. Reclined in her seat, she gazed out the window, her elegant profile cast in contemplative silence. He mused quietly to himself that she did not embody the typical country-raised youth. Her calm sophistication and graceful demeanor set her apart, enhancing her natural charm and making her an effortlessly endearing presence. After two days of travel, Fernanda stepped into the bustling streets of Esaham. The city was a teeming metropolis, alive with vibrant streets and a relentless stream of traffic. Shortly after 8 a.m., a stretch Lincoln limousine glided into the upscale estate of Dawn Villas, coming to a halt in front of a majestic three-story white villa. Stepping gracefully from the limousine, Fernanda let her eyes wander over the grandeur of the building before her. The villa, both opulent and imposing, was a testament to vast wealth. Her lips curled into a faint, almost mocking smile as she gave it a scrutinizing glance. This was her father Robert Morgan's residence. From humble beginnings, he had climbed to wealth and status with her late mother's support. After amassing his fortune, Robert had coldly cast aside her mother, choosing to revel in a relationship with his mistress. That woman--Michelle Morgan--had contributed nothing to his success, yet she now sat smugly in the seat Fernanda's mother had rightfully earned. She basked in the luxuries and respect that were never hers to claim. Worse still, Michelle had dared to flaunt her victory, parading her stolen life before Fernanda's grieving mother, a cruelty that had ultimately led to Fernanda's mother's untimely death. To the world, Michelle was seen as Robert's second wife, a symbol of grace and charm. Michelle even had the audacity to claim she was Fernanda's real mother. But Fernanda knew better. Behind the polished veneer lay the truth, raw and unforgiving. Fernanda's dark eyes momentarily hardened, a flicker of steely determination glinting within them. Her mother was no longer here to seek justice, but Fernanda vowed she would deliver it on her behalf. Just then, the villa's grand door swung open, revealing the pair responsible for the upheaval in her life. Robert stood tall and pristine, the sharp lines of his tailored suit accentuating his stature. His gold-rimmed glasses reflected the warm light, adding an air of calculated sophistication. At his side was Michelle, the very picture of elegance. Her fitted dress clung perfectly to her poised figure, exuding refinement and composure. "Fernanda, you've come back." Robert greeted warmly, a smile playing on his lips as he waved her over. "Come in." Fernanda's eyes darted downward, concealing the storm of emotions swirling within her. With a tentative step, she moved closer. Robert, with an arm encircling Michelle's waist, introduced her with a gesture. "Fernanda, this is your mother." With a casual wave toward the living room, he remarked, "And that's Erika, your sister." On the couch, Erika Morgan was engaged with the television, only looking up when Fernanda approached. Her eyes narrowed judgmentally at Fernanda's plain dress, her face contorting into a sneer. With an exaggerated eye-roll and a sarcastic tone, Erika muttered, "That country bumpkin? Dad, she's no sister of mine." Michelle approached Fernanda with a warm smile, linking her arm with Fernanda's. "Oh, Fernanda, Erika's just teasing. Pay her no mind. I've prepared breakfast for you. You must be starving. Let's have something to eat." Silently, Fernanda slipped her arm free and strode with determined steps into the dining room. Michelle paused, her smile faltering as a shadow of confusion crossed her face. She turned to Robert, her voice tinged with concern. "Robert, what's gotten into her?" He sighed, his voice a blend of empathy and resignation, "Fernanda was raised in the countryside. She's a bit unrefined, that's all. It's nothing against you, Michelle." Michelle nodded slowly, a soft smile reclaiming her features. "No worries," she murmured, her resolve firming. "I'll guide her as she settles in, teach her the essentials of elegance, and shape her into a poised young woman." Robert gave a supportive pat on her back, his expression one of appreciative assurance. In the dining room, Michelle seated herself next to Fernanda. "Fernanda, you must try this beef," she insisted, placing a tender slice onto Fernanda's plate. "It's Erika's favorite." Fernanda responded by promptly lifting the beef from her plate and dropping it into an empty plate with a clear look of disgust. "That's gross," she stated flatly, her voice void of any warmth. Chapter 3 How Could You Lie? The moment those words left Fernanda's lips, the entire table came to a standstill, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief. Erika, her patience fraying, brought her hand down hard on the table and demanded, "Country bumpkin, what are you even saying? My mom was kind enough to offer you this beef, and you have the nerve to be rude about it?" Fernanda met their astonished looks with a mask of feigned innocence. "I was clearly referring to the beef," she said with a deliberate pause. "It's raw and quite frankly, it looks unappetizing. What else could I possibly mean?" "You..." Erika's retort faltered, caught in her throat. Admitting that she thought Fernanda was insulting Michelle was out of the question. With a slow, calculated blink, Fernanda went on, "Unless, perhaps, you think there's something even more gross on this table than the raw beef?" At this, Erika's face registered sheer astonishment, and for a split second, her voice seemed to have deserted her entirely. Not a single word could she muster. It was Michelle who broke the awkward silence, interjecting smoothly, "Fernanda, the dish you're referring to is called beef tartare. It's a renowned delicacy made from top-notch beef and a pasteurized egg, typically found in high-end dining establishments. Perhaps it's something you've not had the opportunity to try before." Her voice subtly implied that Fernanda's simpler past might not have included such refined culinary experiences. Fernanda allowed a mischievous smirk to play at the corners of her lips and replied, "Our ancestors honed an array of sophisticated recipes and techniques. They certainly didn't refine these culinary arts for us to regress to consuming raw meat as if we were lost in the wild." Michelle's expression briefly betrayed a touch of discomfort, yet she managed to sustain a polite smile, nodding her agreement somewhat rigidly. "You bring up a valid point, I'll give you that." "I agree. I'm not fond of beef tartare either," Robert added with a nod, his gaze settling on Fernanda with evident pride. "I've always preferred classic tastes myself. It seems Fernanda has inherited that from me." Fernanda offered a subdued smile, delicately wiping her fork on a napkin after attempting the beef tartare, then resumed eating with a composed demeanor, seemingly unaffected by Erika's glaring resentment. Michelle suddenly ventured a soft query. "Fernanda, which university are you attending these days? Erika is at Luminary University, one of the top schools in the country. What about you?" At this, Erika's face morphed into a self-satisfied grin. Robert's tone grew cooler as he intervened on Fernanda's behalf. "I've spoken to a few contacts back in Fernanda's hometown. Currently, she isn't enrolled in any university." Michelle's eyes went wide, her voice cutting through the silence as she blurted, "What did you just say? Fernanda isn't attending any university? That simply cannot be! What will happen when the Harpers find out? Mrs. Harper had just mentioned a few days ago that they were planning a grand welcome party for Fernanda upon her return. If they learn she's not enrolled anywhere, it could be disastrous." Robert intervened, his tone laced with irritation, cutting through Michelle's rising panic. "Enough. I will take care of Fernanda's education myself." From the corner, Erika couldn't suppress a snicker. Imagining Fernanda managing to sneak into some low-ranked school through connections was downright amusing to her. The Harper family, celebrating the arrival of what Erika considered a rural nobody, was an absurd thought. Fernanda's crude and graceless demeanor would certainly earn their disapproval the moment they saw her. Erika found Bobby Harper quite charming, but his family's insistence on honoring their promise to engage him to Fernanda and pushing Robert to reintegrate Fernanda into their circles seemed ridiculously foolish to her. She was convinced that the Harper family would never develop an affinity for someone as lacking in education as Fernanda. The mood around the table grew tense as they discussed Fernanda's academic prospects. Amidst the awkward silence, Fernanda herself reached for a napkin, dabbing at her lips gracefully. "I have already registered to take the entrance exam for Esaham University," she announced, her voice steady and clear. "Assuming all goes well, I plan to attend there in the near future." Erika was caught off guard and, for a moment, was speechless before she burst into unrestrained laughter. The idea that Esaham University, the most prestigious in the nation where seats were as coveted as gold, would allow Fernanda to take the entrance exam was laughable. Clearly, this was a lie. Robert's demeanor hardened, his eyes narrowing with a frosty glare. He furrowed his brow in disapproval and said sternly, "Fernanda, how could you lie about being granted the opportunity to take the entrance exam for Esaham University? Was lying the only lesson you picked up in your little hometown?" "Honey, calm down," Michelle interjected quickly. "Fernanda was only trying to impress you." Turning to Fernanda with a soft, maternal expression, Michelle remarked in a soothing tone, "There's no shame in skipping college, Fernanda. You don't have to pretend or feel lesser because of it. We're family here, and we don't judge you on such matters." Her words, though gentle, were saturated with disbelief, assuming Fernanda was fabricating her story. Fernanda, without a word of defense, simply pulled out her smartphone. After a few taps, she pushed it across the table towards the center. Everyone leaned in to see the display. Erika's laughter stopped abruptly as she stared at the screen. Displayed prominently was Fernanda's Esaham University entrance exam admission ticket, complete with her photo and name in bold. Snatching the phone, Erika's eyes grew wide as she inspected it repeatedly. Her anger boiling over, she tossed it away and exclaimed, "This can't be real! You edited this, didn't you?" Chapter 4 This Girl Is Something Else "This isn't a photo--it's an online document," Fernanda stated in an even tone, her voice steady and clear. "Notice the Esaham University web address at the top?" Erika was at a loss for words. Her complexion lost its color as silence enveloped her. Entry to Esaham University was notoriously difficult, achievable only through the rigorous standardized exam or by excelling in the university's specialized admission test. This test was reserved for the truly outstanding, drawing candidates from diverse disciplines and making the chance to compete a rare gem. How did Fernanda manage to secure a spot to attend the admission test? Suddenly, Robert's hand was on Fernanda's phone, his eyes scanning the text again and again. Any annoyance he felt quickly dissipated, replaced by bubbling excitement. A rich, joyful laughter escaped him as he declared, "Brilliant, Fernanda! Absolutely brilliant!" The way Fernanda managed to secure such an incredible opportunity didn't concern him. What mattered most to him was the overwhelming pride he felt, knowing she had this chance to take the exam. With a stiff smile and a voice laced with tension, Michelle replied, "Yes, well done." "What's so great about that?" Erika scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. "It's not as if she's actually going to pass." "But it's certainly better than not being qualified to try at all, right?" Fernanda retorted smoothly. Color rushed to Erika's cheeks, her anger palpable. She slammed her fork down, the clatter echoing sharply. "I've had enough!" she declared vehemently, before storming off in a huff. After dinner, Robert and Michelle walked Fernanda to her cozy and thoughtfully prepared room. The room was airy and uncluttered, resonating with Fernanda's love for understated elegance. "Across the hall is your sister's room," Michelle explained, her voice carrying a warm undertone. "Next to yours is your elder brother's. He's often caught up with work commitments and rarely at home. Your younger brother, who's currently at a summer camp overseas, has his room beside Erika's." She continued, a smile softening her features, "If there's anything you need to make your stay more comfortable, please don't hesitate to tell me, dear." Robert watched Michelle with a look of quiet approval. "Thank you," Fernanda murmured, her eyes downcast as she spoke. "I think I'll take a shower now." At that, Robert and Michelle excused themselves, leaving Fernanda to her privacy. As she stepped under the spray, cool water washed over her, drenching her face and lending a luminous sheen to her eyes. They sparkled against the backdrop of water droplets on her lashes, enhancing the serene yet frosty allure of her features. Once out of the shower, Fernanda blow-dried her hair until it was just damp. As Fernanda from the bathroom, she dug through the suitcase and found a photo of Hiram Hammond. The photo was a solemn memorial portrait of Hiram. Though not bound to her by blood, he had nurtured her with unwavering care and affection. To Fernanda, he was her entire world, her only family. That cherished photo, a tribute to his memory, was something she couldn't afford to lose. Gazing at the kind, gentle face in the photo, Fernanda was enveloped by a surge of affection. With gentle hands, she cleaned the photograph and lovingly placed it on a side table in the room. Within the next two days, the villa had welcomed two additional guests--Michelle's nephew and niece. The man exhibited an unseemly l**tfulness, with his gaze persistently fixed on Fernanda whenever he could manage. Meanwhile, the woman had aligned herself with Erika, openly manifesting her contempt and animosity toward Fernanda through both overt and subtle jabs. Disenchanted by their presence, Fernanda chose to distance herself from the villa's stifling atmosphere. As the sun dawdled on the brink of the horizon, the evening air, warm yet prickled with tension, brushed against her. Seeking a brief escape, Fernanda wandered to a convenience store and picked up a can of cold beer. Positioned against a lamppost, she deftly popped open the can single-handedly. The refreshing chill of the beer soothed her throat as she drank. A slight tilt of her head caused the collar of her shirt to shift delicately, exposing the elegant contour of her collarbone. With an air of sophistication, her neck arched gracefully, like someone relishing a glass of champagne in an exclusive bar. Having savored the last drop, Fernanda tossed the can with a casual flick of her wrist, watching it arc smoothly into the bin with a satisfying clink. Not far off, someone hidden in the dim interior of a black sedan watched intently. Bobby, palpably impressed, turned to his companion and remarked with a mix of awe and admiration, "Cristian, this girl is something else!" Chapter 5 Attacked Cristian Reed, who was sprawling in the backseat, remained silent, his eyes firmly shut. "Wow, the girl is stunning! Check out those legs--so beautiful and flawless! Did you see her toss that can, Cristian? She's got skills that could rival yours!" Bobby's incessant babble finally pierced Cristian's reserve. With a sigh, Cristian's eyes fluttered open. Just then, the headlights from an approaching vehicle swept across his face, accentuating its angular contours and highlighting a small mole beneath his eye. Drawing out his words, Cristian replied with a lazy drawl, his voice a deep, soothing rumble laced with a trace of exhaustion, "Aren't you getting engaged soon? Isn't the eldest Morgan daughter meant to be yours?" Bobby visibly flinched at the mention, his expression contorting into one of clear distaste. "She's nothing but a stray who got lost as a child and grew up in some nowhere place. Who's to say she isn't just a goddamn ugly rural bumpkin? My friends probably see me as some unlucky fool. Cristian, you are my cousin. You should not make fun of me like they do!" Cristian merely crossed his arms, extending his long legs and settling back more comfortably without a word. The silence seemed to deepen Bobby's frustration, as if sealing his fate. Yet, as Bobby's eyes landed on the girl's striking figure under the streetlight again, his mood shifted, and a flicker of curiosity lit up his face. With a playful grin, Bobby lowered the window and leaned slightly out, his tone dripping with charm. "Hey there, gorgeous. Can I offer you a ride?" "No, thank you." Her words were crisp and frosty, cutting through the evening like a cold breeze, leaving a chill that touched both men. In the backseat, Cristian's body tensed. His eyes snapped open, his head whipping around toward the sound of the voice. That voice? It unmistakably belonged to the girl he had met in that dimly lit motel. Cristian acted with such swiftness that he seemed to blur the lines between thought and action as he swung the car door open and emerged. Fernanda mistook his approach for a mere flirtatious gesture. Without giving him another thought, she turned away and continued on her path. She had only taken a few steps when she felt a strong, unyielding grip halt her progress. She spun around, coming face-to-face with the man who had stopped her. Towering and strikingly handsome, he possessed an aura of undeniable presence. One hand was nonchalantly placed in his pocket, while the other securely grasped her arm. His piercing gaze locked with hers. "Well, if it isn't you!" Cristian muttered slowly, a hint of recognition in his voice. "Seems like we keep meeting, huh?" Fernanda's eyes flickered with surprise as she realized who he was--the man from that unforgettable night. Given that he was a dangerous fugitive, she wanted to keep her distance from him. Swiftly regaining her composure, she adopted an aloof demeanor. "I'm sorry, sir. You must be mistaken," she replied evenly. "No," Cristian responded, his voice low and steady, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "A debt of gratitude is something I never forget." His remark revealed a depth to his character. For Cristian, repaying a good deed wasn't just a courtesy--it was a principle he lived by. Meanwhile, Bobby had exited the car and now stood a short distance away, his expression one of utter bewilderment. "What's going on?" he inquired. Cristian brushed off Bobby's presence, focusing instead on holding the car door open for Fernanda with a subtle nod. Fernanda stayed rooted in place, her gaze sharp with caution. "What do you mean by that?" "I'd like to take you to dinner. Would you join me?" Cristian urged with a warm, inviting smile. It came across as a question, but Fernanda could discern from the inflection in his voice that he wasn't genuinely offering her an option to decline. Her familiarity with his nature left no room for misunderstanding. Refusing him might only provoke him to force her into the car himself. With a sigh, she gave a subdued nod. "Fine." A faint smile flickered across Cristian's face as he graciously gestured for her to enter, then smoothly took his place behind the wheel. Bobby blinked in shock, his mouth hanging open. "You've got to be kidding me, Cristian. This is incredible!" Cristian had effortlessly ensnared the alluring girl with a mere handful of words, an accomplishment Bobby found profoundly impressive. As Bobby tried the back door, he found it unexpectedly locked. "Cristian?" he inquired, a hint of confusion in his tone. Cristian commanded firmly, "Leave." Frozen in place in the brisk evening air, Bobby watched the sleek black car vanish into the shadows of the night. He was the first to spot the girl! Why had they left him behind? Inside the car, Cristian shattered the lingering silence by firing off a torrent of questions. "Are you from Esaham or Zhota?" "Zhota," she answered softly. "And your name?" "Letty Molina." "How old are you?" "Twenty-five," Fernanda replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Cristian stole a sideways glance at her, his voice laced with skepticism. "Doesn't seem like it." "Reality seldom mirrors our expectations," Fernanda replied, her tone unwavering. "Take your appearance, for instance. In that impeccable suit, you're the perfect picture of a business tycoon. Yet, you're the same fugitive I stumbled upon the other night." Cristian couldn't help but laugh, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You do have a point." Fernanda was finally no longer feigning ignorance about their past encounter. Cristian was relieved. Had she chosen to continue her charade, he had his own methods to have her drop the act. As usual, Esaham's traffic was a snarled mess. Cristian veered onto a less congested side street, hoping to evade the endless sea of cars. Breaking the silence, he suggested, "I know a cozy spot run by a Zhota native--serves excellent food. Let's head there." "Sure," she replied, her tone calm but firm. Just as Fernanda's reply hung in the air, a jarring crash echoed from behind, jolting the car forward. She was thrust back, the seatbelt gnawing into her shoulder. Cristian's gaze darted to the rearview mirror. Suddenly, a van cut sharply across their path, blocking them. On either side, vehicles converged, spilling out men brandishing grim tools, their silhouettes ominous in the dim streetlight. Without hesitation, Cristian reached into the center console, retrieving a kn*fe. "Whatever happens, keep yourself inside the car. Don't even think about stepping out," he instructed firmly, pressing her back into the seat. With a resolute nod, he went on, "I'll take care of them, and afterward, dinner's on me." Cristian wrapped up his conversation, offering Fernanda a fleeting smile that appeared untouched by the surrounding tension. Fernanda folded her arms and settled deeper into her seat, her face a mask of tranquility as she observed Cristian approach the group of armed adversaries. The scene was stark--one man facing off against a throng armed to the teeth. The odds were clearly not in his favor. Yet, as Cristian lifted his foot and dispatched two of the men to the ground with a single, silent kick, Fernanda took note of his precision and power. His technique spoke of extensive training and raw capability. The gang, incited by Cristian's defiance, rushed at him collectively. Sticks sliced through the air, each strike landing with a dense thud that echoed menace. Cristian, however, danced through the tumult with a grace that seemed almost serene. Despite their advantage in numbers, his assailants found themselves floundering to overpower him. One attacker received a blunt punch straight to the face, staggering backward and eventually collapsing against the hood of Cristian's car. As he dabbed at the bl**d dripping from his nose, the man snarled in rage. Catching sight of Fernanda inside the vehicle, a sinister idea sparked within him... ...... 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) &5& | Fragrant Fiction | 62 | https://www.facebook.com/61565957015132/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681516 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/3/25, 10:46 AM | 1738828444 | 1748965617 | 2478 | Send message | VIDEO | 2.8977567441937E+14 | Paull Chiropractic Family Wellness Center | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475976552_1710194573178318_7832956352360749224_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ZI4pyhVlNF8Q7kNvgFde1RP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=AI2MUU60gqCj3U6bB0wLlfp&oh=00_AYDBOV947Fbn-qGEargluCgCZBIN7Qgqq4tEp9hzBNU2KQ&oe=67AA263A | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | How Toxins Affect Your Child’s Nervous System and What You Can Do About It Navigating the daily challenges of keeping your child healthy in today's crazy toxic and highly stressful world can feel quite overwhelming and exhausting. 😩 Every day, our children are exposed to a whole host of environmental toxins and chemicals that were unheard of just a few generations ago. These include pollutants in our air and water, chemical additives in our food, and countless other hazards that can affect their developing bodies and brains. ☠️ What's critical—and often overlooked—is not just the presence of these toxins, but their cumulative impact on your child’s health, particularly their nervous system. This "total load" of stressors can hinder your child's natural ability to develop, adapt, and maintain health, setting the stage for more serious issues as they grow. 🧠 In this video, Dr. Andy explains how shifting to a more natural and toxin-free lifestyle can lead to some incredible changes in your family’s health and well-being, but also still may not be enough if your child’s nervous system is completely stressed out and dysregulated at the same time! We understand this can be a daunting and challenging path for parents to navigate, so we don’t want you to feel alone in this journey – click the link below to gain access to some incredible resources that will help your family make this important shift! 💪❤️ https://pxdocs.com/guide/raising-healthy-kids-naturally-playbook/ #pxdocs #toxins #janesvillewi #paullchiropractic #janesvillechiropractor #everykidcounts #rockcountywi #detox #moldexposure #heavymetaldetox #guthealth | Paull Chiropractic Family Wellness Center | 1641 | https://www.facebook.com/PaullChiropracticFamilyWellnessCenter/ | 0 | MESSAGE_PAGE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| 2681462 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/13/25, 2:39 AM | 1738828443 | 1749800372 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | IMAGE | Read next chapter | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=898E73583E5F9879CC6FC7D1F06A10DAA757DA24012F8F79 | 1.116928118368E+14 | Heat Novel A | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476349821_2301435966903029_5002086249714390716_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dv8wEVojgqIQ7kNvgFf08H8&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYBYURLeF0UWpEgeh0eGtoxUggmHMJo1wYewzJkHwZfZ9A&oe=67AA2BDD | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi**ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his b*dmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my b*d, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red m*rk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my b*d too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You b**ch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame gr*aning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& | Heat Novel A | 596 | https://www.facebook.com/100089743291944/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681467 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 7/4/25, 8:51 PM | 1738828443 | 1751680293 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | VIDEO | Read next chapter | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=1A6334CBF30555EAA07CF5563682BBF44CE44A9E8E66E16B | 1.116928118368E+14 | Heat Novel A | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475947694_595646989762485_1362658527074424187_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=1EkM2eBT1r8Q7kNvgGmKjPK&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYA0SMGAsMPDeDpDWf1GMY8OuiKywubR0EnoxpHERa7fxw&oe=67AA4964 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi**ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his b*dmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my b*d, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red m*rk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my b*d too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You b**ch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame gr*aning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& | Heat Novel A | 596 | https://www.facebook.com/100089743291944/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681483 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/13/25, 6:22 AM | 1738828443 | 1749813761 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | IMAGE | His Scorned Bride Turned Out To Be Legendary | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67179322-fb_contact-enj83_6-0110-c3-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=060236&accid=985743679749990&exdata=D6FAA275DE3CB4325F11EAC39916AFCF966E59802E4358CC | 4.3210510665256E+14 | Fragrant Fiction | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/474805210_2353236705049352_3929423148494742508_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=uNrAmpXrZm0Q7kNvgHDDpux&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYC83P5EoOlvksVSABlL8CBgJb9D5G9OuEphXV0pfnkhCQ&oe=67AA3F35 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Rumors claimed she was an uneducated, hot-tempered bumpkin. She sneered and revealed her true identity as a renowned designer, gaming pro, celebrated artist, and business tycoon, leaving everyone stunned! ===== "We're here to escort you home, Miss Morgan." "Your parents have been tirelessly searching for you over the years. Upon discovering your whereabouts, they promptly dispatched us to ensure your return." Fernanda Morgan surveyed the men in crisply tailored suits who stood before her, he appeared to be a butler. "Moreover, the Harper family is keenly anticipating your return. You are to be engaged to Mr. Harper once you return!" "Alright then. Let's go," Fernanda agreed with a slight nod. She collected her already-packed belongings and stepped into the vehicle. The journey from the small town of Zhota to Esaham was a long one, spanning at least two days by car. As dusk enveloped the sky, they pulled into another small town. The butler located a modestly appealing motel and proposed they stay overnight. Fernanda's accommodation was at the far end of the second-floor hallway, Room 201--arguably the best room available. The butler and the rest of their group opted to stay on the lower floor. The night was unusually warm and dry, rendering the room's aging air conditioner useless. Fernanda opened the window to invite a cool breeze, causing the curtains to dance gently in the evening air. Fresh from her shower, she dimmed the lights and crawled into bed for the night. Drifting into a light sleep, she was jolted awake by a disturbance outside. A subsequent noise at the window snapped her to full alert. As she bolted upright, a shadowy figure burst through, launching itself onto her bed. The freezing touch of a bl*de hovered at her neck as a low, threatening voice growled, "Don't you dare move." Immobile, Fernanda's body clenched in fear. The faint, iron tang of bl**d lingered on the man's sleeve--a grim reminder of his dangerousness. This unmistakable hint solidified the fact: this man was no one to mess with. Outside, the commotion intensified. Shortly after, a forceful knock resonated at the door. A coarse voice demanded, "Is anyone there? Open up now!" As the voice still echoed, the kn*fe at Fernanda's neck dug in slightly deeper. The man's voice dripped with malice as he warned, "Get rid of them, or you're as good as dead." His right arm ensnared her waist, his left hand unwavering with the kn*fe at her throat. Through his firm grip and calculated movements, Fernanda realized he was deadly serious. Cornered, she knew she had to play along for the time being. "Sure." With a soft, steady voice, Fernanda reassured him. "It'll all be okay." With no answer from inside, the outsiders used a master key to unlock the door and stormed in. At the sound, the man jerked Fernanda's baggy T-shirt, pulling her down onto his lap and encircling her with his arm, forcing her to straddle him as he shifted position. Right then, the door flung open, and a stark beam of flashlight flooded the room. Fernanda let out a panicked scream, quickly bending over the man to obscure him from view. "Sweetheart, what the hell is this place? How could anyone have the audacity to barge in like that?" Acting as though she was terrified, Fernanda held onto the man, her grip firm and desperate. Her voice, usually sweet and enticing, now carried an edge of annoyance mingled with a breathless charm that was utterly captivating. Suddenly, Fernanda felt the man beneath her tense up. Seconds later, he encircled her with his arm and expertly flipped over, drawing the blanket over both their bodies. As the blanket slid, its soft whispers merged with the steady rhythm of their breaths, painting a scene of understated sensuality. Faces flushed with embarrassment, the group at the door stood stiffly, unprepared for the private display before them. Nonetheless, the couple inside the room showed no signs of halting their intimate exchange. The motel's security guard chuckled uncomfortably, "Looks like they're pretty busy... Maybe we ought to leave, huh?" One of the men brushed past the guard and entered the room with a purposeful stride. Fernanda's heartbeat skyrocketed as she heard the footsteps drawing near. Could they actually be contemplating unveiling them? A chilling bl*de pressed against her side, its pointed tip grazing her skin, sending a shiver through her already tense body. The footsteps halted next to the bed, and with a surge of courage, Fernanda leaned in closer to the man beneath her. Pulled back gently, the blanket gave way to the flashlight's piercing light, exposing a glimpse of her delicate, b*re back. In the softness of the bed, their movements continued unabated. Fernanda's lips met his in a fervent kiss, her hair cascading down to obscure his face, while his hand gently caressed her side. The subdued m**ns that slipped from their lips lent the scene an air of genuine intimacy. Abruptly, a voice erupted from beyond the room, piercing the tranquility. "Boss! Something's going down out on the street!" Instantly, the man at the bedside sprang to his feet and vanished through the door. With the door slamming behind him, Fernanda disentangled herself and slipped from the bed. Moonlight seeped through a crack in the curtains, casting delicate shadows across the room. The man watched as Fernanda's slender figure was silhouetted against the pale light. Memories of earlier washed over him; his fingers traced her skin, so smooth and velvety. She had gripped his arms, her delicate skin pressing softly against his. Her hair had brushed his face, each strand silky, carrying a subtle fragrance. Her voice had been a soft melody, soothing to his ears. This woman was serene and astute. Amid the intrusion, rather than succumb to panic, she had pressed her lips to his, a kiss so convincing it had deceived the pursuers. Her technique was rather clumsy, only pressing her lips against his without any other movement--evidently her first kiss. Breaking the ensuing quiet, the man's voice softened from its usual sternness to a rasp tinged with all**re. "Was that your first kiss?" Chapter 2 That's Gross With deliberate movements, Fernanda pulled out a piece of clothing from her suitcase, her voice sharp and cool. "This is none of your concern. I think it's time for you to leave." All she desired at that moment was to hasten the man's departure. Barely a moment before, when he had embraced her, his fingers had brushed against her back, lingering just a moment too long. The calluses on his fingertips were coarse, betraying more wear than most. His adeptness with a knife and his swift reflexes hinted at a background that was far from ordinary. Cutting off the thought immediately, Fernanda dismissed any curiosity about his background. From below, the blare of a car horn shattered the silence. The man stood up smoothly. During their earlier intimacy, he had loosened his shirt, though his trousers remained crisply in place. He buttoned his shirt as he approached the window and casually tossed something to Fernanda. "My apologies for any discomfort caused earlier. Consider this your compensation," he said with a nod. With the graceful precision of a panther, he sprang out of the window. Fernanda approached the window, peering out into the night where, under the faint illumination of the streetlights, she observed him scale the wall effortlessly. He navigated the ledges until he merged with the shadows. She stooped to retrieve the object he had left--a sleek black card. The night's disruptions had been met with suitable compensation--a fair recompense. Fernanda pocketed the card and drew the curtains closed. The following morning, the butler approached Fernanda with a look of concern etched across his face. "Miss Morgan, I hope you managed to rest last night. There was an inspection for a burglary, which stirred quite the disturbance." She shrugged casually and muttered, "It was fine." As they drove, the butler stole glances at Fernanda through the rearview mirror. Reclined in her seat, she gazed out the window, her elegant profile cast in contemplative silence. He mused quietly to himself that she did not embody the typical country-raised youth. Her calm sophistication and graceful demeanor set her apart, enhancing her natural charm and making her an effortlessly endearing presence. After two days of travel, Fernanda stepped into the bustling streets of Esaham. The city was a teeming metropolis, alive with vibrant streets and a relentless stream of traffic. Shortly after 8 a.m., a stretch Lincoln limousine glided into the upscale estate of Dawn Villas, coming to a halt in front of a majestic three-story white villa. Stepping gracefully from the limousine, Fernanda let her eyes wander over the grandeur of the building before her. The villa, both opulent and imposing, was a testament to vast wealth. Her lips curled into a faint, almost mocking smile as she gave it a scrutinizing glance. This was her father Robert Morgan's residence. From humble beginnings, he had climbed to wealth and status with her late mother's support. After amassing his fortune, Robert had coldly cast aside her mother, choosing to revel in a relationship with his mistress. That woman--Michelle Morgan--had contributed nothing to his success, yet she now sat smugly in the seat Fernanda's mother had rightfully earned. She basked in the luxuries and respect that were never hers to claim. Worse still, Michelle had dared to flaunt her victory, parading her stolen life before Fernanda's grieving mother, a cruelty that had ultimately led to Fernanda's mother's untimely death. To the world, Michelle was seen as Robert's second wife, a symbol of grace and charm. Michelle even had the audacity to claim she was Fernanda's real mother. But Fernanda knew better. Behind the polished veneer lay the truth, raw and unforgiving. Fernanda's dark eyes momentarily hardened, a flicker of steely determination glinting within them. Her mother was no longer here to seek justice, but Fernanda vowed she would deliver it on her behalf. Just then, the villa's grand door swung open, revealing the pair responsible for the upheaval in her life. Robert stood tall and pristine, the sharp lines of his tailored suit accentuating his stature. His gold-rimmed glasses reflected the warm light, adding an air of calculated sophistication. At his side was Michelle, the very picture of elegance. Her fitted dress clung perfectly to her poised figure, exuding refinement and composure. "Fernanda, you've come back." Robert greeted warmly, a smile playing on his lips as he waved her over. "Come in." Fernanda's eyes darted downward, concealing the storm of emotions swirling within her. With a tentative step, she moved closer. Robert, with an arm encircling Michelle's waist, introduced her with a gesture. "Fernanda, this is your mother." With a casual wave toward the living room, he remarked, "And that's Erika, your sister." On the couch, Erika Morgan was engaged with the television, only looking up when Fernanda approached. Her eyes narrowed judgmentally at Fernanda's plain dress, her face contorting into a sneer. With an exaggerated eye-roll and a sarcastic tone, Erika muttered, "That country bumpkin? Dad, she's no sister of mine." Michelle approached Fernanda with a warm smile, linking her arm with Fernanda's. "Oh, Fernanda, Erika's just teasing. Pay her no mind. I've prepared breakfast for you. You must be starving. Let's have something to eat." Silently, Fernanda slipped her arm free and strode with determined steps into the dining room. Michelle paused, her smile faltering as a shadow of confusion crossed her face. She turned to Robert, her voice tinged with concern. "Robert, what's gotten into her?" He sighed, his voice a blend of empathy and resignation, "Fernanda was raised in the countryside. She's a bit unrefined, that's all. It's nothing against you, Michelle." Michelle nodded slowly, a soft smile reclaiming her features. "No worries," she murmured, her resolve firming. "I'll guide her as she settles in, teach her the essentials of elegance, and shape her into a poised young woman." Robert gave a supportive pat on her back, his expression one of appreciative assurance. In the dining room, Michelle seated herself next to Fernanda. "Fernanda, you must try this beef," she insisted, placing a tender slice onto Fernanda's plate. "It's Erika's favorite." Fernanda responded by promptly lifting the beef from her plate and dropping it into an empty plate with a clear look of disgust. "That's gross," she stated flatly, her voice void of any warmth. Chapter 3 How Could You Lie? The moment those words left Fernanda's lips, the entire table came to a standstill, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief. Erika, her patience fraying, brought her hand down hard on the table and demanded, "Country bumpkin, what are you even saying? My mom was kind enough to offer you this beef, and you have the nerve to be rude about it?" Fernanda met their astonished looks with a mask of feigned innocence. "I was clearly referring to the beef," she said with a deliberate pause. "It's raw and quite frankly, it looks unappetizing. What else could I possibly mean?" "You..." Erika's retort faltered, caught in her throat. Admitting that she thought Fernanda was insulting Michelle was out of the question. With a slow, calculated blink, Fernanda went on, "Unless, perhaps, you think there's something even more gross on this table than the raw beef?" At this, Erika's face registered sheer astonishment, and for a split second, her voice seemed to have deserted her entirely. Not a single word could she muster. It was Michelle who broke the awkward silence, interjecting smoothly, "Fernanda, the dish you're referring to is called beef tartare. It's a renowned delicacy made from top-notch beef and a pasteurized egg, typically found in high-end dining establishments. Perhaps it's something you've not had the opportunity to try before." Her voice subtly implied that Fernanda's simpler past might not have included such refined culinary experiences. Fernanda allowed a mischievous smirk to play at the corners of her lips and replied, "Our ancestors honed an array of sophisticated recipes and techniques. They certainly didn't refine these culinary arts for us to regress to consuming raw meat as if we were lost in the wild." Michelle's expression briefly betrayed a touch of discomfort, yet she managed to sustain a polite smile, nodding her agreement somewhat rigidly. "You bring up a valid point, I'll give you that." "I agree. I'm not fond of beef tartare either," Robert added with a nod, his gaze settling on Fernanda with evident pride. "I've always preferred classic tastes myself. It seems Fernanda has inherited that from me." Fernanda offered a subdued smile, delicately wiping her fork on a napkin after attempting the beef tartare, then resumed eating with a composed demeanor, seemingly unaffected by Erika's glaring resentment. Michelle suddenly ventured a soft query. "Fernanda, which university are you attending these days? Erika is at Luminary University, one of the top schools in the country. What about you?" At this, Erika's face morphed into a self-satisfied grin. Robert's tone grew cooler as he intervened on Fernanda's behalf. "I've spoken to a few contacts back in Fernanda's hometown. Currently, she isn't enrolled in any university." Michelle's eyes went wide, her voice cutting through the silence as she blurted, "What did you just say? Fernanda isn't attending any university? That simply cannot be! What will happen when the Harpers find out? Mrs. Harper had just mentioned a few days ago that they were planning a grand welcome party for Fernanda upon her return. If they learn she's not enrolled anywhere, it could be disastrous." Robert intervened, his tone laced with irritation, cutting through Michelle's rising panic. "Enough. I will take care of Fernanda's education myself." From the corner, Erika couldn't suppress a snicker. Imagining Fernanda managing to sneak into some low-ranked school through connections was downright amusing to her. The Harper family, celebrating the arrival of what Erika considered a rural nobody, was an absurd thought. Fernanda's crude and graceless demeanor would certainly earn their disapproval the moment they saw her. Erika found Bobby Harper quite charming, but his family's insistence on honoring their promise to engage him to Fernanda and pushing Robert to reintegrate Fernanda into their circles seemed ridiculously foolish to her. She was convinced that the Harper family would never develop an affinity for someone as lacking in education as Fernanda. The mood around the table grew tense as they discussed Fernanda's academic prospects. Amidst the awkward silence, Fernanda herself reached for a napkin, dabbing at her lips gracefully. "I have already registered to take the entrance exam for Esaham University," she announced, her voice steady and clear. "Assuming all goes well, I plan to attend there in the near future." Erika was caught off guard and, for a moment, was speechless before she burst into unrestrained laughter. The idea that Esaham University, the most prestigious in the nation where seats were as coveted as gold, would allow Fernanda to take the entrance exam was laughable. Clearly, this was a lie. Robert's demeanor hardened, his eyes narrowing with a frosty glare. He furrowed his brow in disapproval and said sternly, "Fernanda, how could you lie about being granted the opportunity to take the entrance exam for Esaham University? Was lying the only lesson you picked up in your little hometown?" "Honey, calm down," Michelle interjected quickly. "Fernanda was only trying to impress you." Turning to Fernanda with a soft, maternal expression, Michelle remarked in a soothing tone, "There's no shame in skipping college, Fernanda. You don't have to pretend or feel lesser because of it. We're family here, and we don't judge you on such matters." Her words, though gentle, were saturated with disbelief, assuming Fernanda was fabricating her story. Fernanda, without a word of defense, simply pulled out her smartphone. After a few taps, she pushed it across the table towards the center. Everyone leaned in to see the display. Erika's laughter stopped abruptly as she stared at the screen. Displayed prominently was Fernanda's Esaham University entrance exam admission ticket, complete with her photo and name in bold. Snatching the phone, Erika's eyes grew wide as she inspected it repeatedly. Her anger boiling over, she tossed it away and exclaimed, "This can't be real! You edited this, didn't you?" Chapter 4 This Girl Is Something Else "This isn't a photo--it's an online document," Fernanda stated in an even tone, her voice steady and clear. "Notice the Esaham University web address at the top?" Erika was at a loss for words. Her complexion lost its color as silence enveloped her. Entry to Esaham University was notoriously difficult, achievable only through the rigorous standardized exam or by excelling in the university's specialized admission test. This test was reserved for the truly outstanding, drawing candidates from diverse disciplines and making the chance to compete a rare gem. How did Fernanda manage to secure a spot to attend the admission test? Suddenly, Robert's hand was on Fernanda's phone, his eyes scanning the text again and again. Any annoyance he felt quickly dissipated, replaced by bubbling excitement. A rich, joyful laughter escaped him as he declared, "Brilliant, Fernanda! Absolutely brilliant!" The way Fernanda managed to secure such an incredible opportunity didn't concern him. What mattered most to him was the overwhelming pride he felt, knowing she had this chance to take the exam. With a stiff smile and a voice laced with tension, Michelle replied, "Yes, well done." "What's so great about that?" Erika scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. "It's not as if she's actually going to pass." "But it's certainly better than not being qualified to try at all, right?" Fernanda retorted smoothly. Color rushed to Erika's cheeks, her anger palpable. She slammed her fork down, the clatter echoing sharply. "I've had enough!" she declared vehemently, before storming off in a huff. After dinner, Robert and Michelle walked Fernanda to her cozy and thoughtfully prepared room. The room was airy and uncluttered, resonating with Fernanda's love for understated elegance. "Across the hall is your sister's room," Michelle explained, her voice carrying a warm undertone. "Next to yours is your elder brother's. He's often caught up with work commitments and rarely at home. Your younger brother, who's currently at a summer camp overseas, has his room beside Erika's." She continued, a smile softening her features, "If there's anything you need to make your stay more comfortable, please don't hesitate to tell me, dear." Robert watched Michelle with a look of quiet approval. "Thank you," Fernanda murmured, her eyes downcast as she spoke. "I think I'll take a shower now." At that, Robert and Michelle excused themselves, leaving Fernanda to her privacy. As she stepped under the spray, cool water washed over her, drenching her face and lending a luminous sheen to her eyes. They sparkled against the backdrop of water droplets on her lashes, enhancing the serene yet frosty allure of her features. Once out of the shower, Fernanda blow-dried her hair until it was just damp. As Fernanda from the bathroom, she dug through the suitcase and found a photo of Hiram Hammond. The photo was a solemn memorial portrait of Hiram. Though not bound to her by blood, he had nurtured her with unwavering care and affection. To Fernanda, he was her entire world, her only family. That cherished photo, a tribute to his memory, was something she couldn't afford to lose. Gazing at the kind, gentle face in the photo, Fernanda was enveloped by a surge of affection. With gentle hands, she cleaned the photograph and lovingly placed it on a side table in the room. Within the next two days, the villa had welcomed two additional guests--Michelle's nephew and niece. The man exhibited an unseemly l**tfulness, with his gaze persistently fixed on Fernanda whenever he could manage. Meanwhile, the woman had aligned herself with Erika, openly manifesting her contempt and animosity toward Fernanda through both overt and subtle jabs. Disenchanted by their presence, Fernanda chose to distance herself from the villa's stifling atmosphere. As the sun dawdled on the brink of the horizon, the evening air, warm yet prickled with tension, brushed against her. Seeking a brief escape, Fernanda wandered to a convenience store and picked up a can of cold beer. Positioned against a lamppost, she deftly popped open the can single-handedly. The refreshing chill of the beer soothed her throat as she drank. A slight tilt of her head caused the collar of her shirt to shift delicately, exposing the elegant contour of her collarbone. With an air of sophistication, her neck arched gracefully, like someone relishing a glass of champagne in an exclusive bar. Having savored the last drop, Fernanda tossed the can with a casual flick of her wrist, watching it arc smoothly into the bin with a satisfying clink. Not far off, someone hidden in the dim interior of a black sedan watched intently. Bobby, palpably impressed, turned to his companion and remarked with a mix of awe and admiration, "Cristian, this girl is something else!" Chapter 5 Attacked Cristian Reed, who was sprawling in the backseat, remained silent, his eyes firmly shut. "Wow, the girl is stunning! Check out those legs--so beautiful and flawless! Did you see her toss that can, Cristian? She's got skills that could rival yours!" Bobby's incessant babble finally pierced Cristian's reserve. With a sigh, Cristian's eyes fluttered open. Just then, the headlights from an approaching vehicle swept across his face, accentuating its angular contours and highlighting a small mole beneath his eye. Drawing out his words, Cristian replied with a lazy drawl, his voice a deep, soothing rumble laced with a trace of exhaustion, "Aren't you getting engaged soon? Isn't the eldest Morgan daughter meant to be yours?" Bobby visibly flinched at the mention, his expression contorting into one of clear distaste. "She's nothing but a stray who got lost as a child and grew up in some nowhere place. Who's to say she isn't just a goddamn ugly rural bumpkin? My friends probably see me as some unlucky fool. Cristian, you are my cousin. You should not make fun of me like they do!" Cristian merely crossed his arms, extending his long legs and settling back more comfortably without a word. The silence seemed to deepen Bobby's frustration, as if sealing his fate. Yet, as Bobby's eyes landed on the girl's striking figure under the streetlight again, his mood shifted, and a flicker of curiosity lit up his face. With a playful grin, Bobby lowered the window and leaned slightly out, his tone dripping with charm. "Hey there, gorgeous. Can I offer you a ride?" "No, thank you." Her words were crisp and frosty, cutting through the evening like a cold breeze, leaving a chill that touched both men. In the backseat, Cristian's body tensed. His eyes snapped open, his head whipping around toward the sound of the voice. That voice? It unmistakably belonged to the girl he had met in that dimly lit motel. Cristian acted with such swiftness that he seemed to blur the lines between thought and action as he swung the car door open and emerged. Fernanda mistook his approach for a mere flirtatious gesture. Without giving him another thought, she turned away and continued on her path. She had only taken a few steps when she felt a strong, unyielding grip halt her progress. She spun around, coming face-to-face with the man who had stopped her. Towering and strikingly handsome, he possessed an aura of undeniable presence. One hand was nonchalantly placed in his pocket, while the other securely grasped her arm. His piercing gaze locked with hers. "Well, if it isn't you!" Cristian muttered slowly, a hint of recognition in his voice. "Seems like we keep meeting, huh?" Fernanda's eyes flickered with surprise as she realized who he was--the man from that unforgettable night. Given that he was a dangerous fugitive, she wanted to keep her distance from him. Swiftly regaining her composure, she adopted an aloof demeanor. "I'm sorry, sir. You must be mistaken," she replied evenly. "No," Cristian responded, his voice low and steady, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "A debt of gratitude is something I never forget." His remark revealed a depth to his character. For Cristian, repaying a good deed wasn't just a courtesy--it was a principle he lived by. Meanwhile, Bobby had exited the car and now stood a short distance away, his expression one of utter bewilderment. "What's going on?" he inquired. Cristian brushed off Bobby's presence, focusing instead on holding the car door open for Fernanda with a subtle nod. Fernanda stayed rooted in place, her gaze sharp with caution. "What do you mean by that?" "I'd like to take you to dinner. Would you join me?" Cristian urged with a warm, inviting smile. It came across as a question, but Fernanda could discern from the inflection in his voice that he wasn't genuinely offering her an option to decline. Her familiarity with his nature left no room for misunderstanding. Refusing him might only provoke him to force her into the car himself. With a sigh, she gave a subdued nod. "Fine." A faint smile flickered across Cristian's face as he graciously gestured for her to enter, then smoothly took his place behind the wheel. Bobby blinked in shock, his mouth hanging open. "You've got to be kidding me, Cristian. This is incredible!" Cristian had effortlessly ensnared the alluring girl with a mere handful of words, an accomplishment Bobby found profoundly impressive. As Bobby tried the back door, he found it unexpectedly locked. "Cristian?" he inquired, a hint of confusion in his tone. Cristian commanded firmly, "Leave." Frozen in place in the brisk evening air, Bobby watched the sleek black car vanish into the shadows of the night. He was the first to spot the girl! Why had they left him behind? Inside the car, Cristian shattered the lingering silence by firing off a torrent of questions. "Are you from Esaham or Zhota?" "Zhota," she answered softly. "And your name?" "Letty Molina." "How old are you?" "Twenty-five," Fernanda replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Cristian stole a sideways glance at her, his voice laced with skepticism. "Doesn't seem like it." "Reality seldom mirrors our expectations," Fernanda replied, her tone unwavering. "Take your appearance, for instance. In that impeccable suit, you're the perfect picture of a business tycoon. Yet, you're the same fugitive I stumbled upon the other night." Cristian couldn't help but laugh, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You do have a point." Fernanda was finally no longer feigning ignorance about their past encounter. Cristian was relieved. Had she chosen to continue her charade, he had his own methods to have her drop the act. As usual, Esaham's traffic was a snarled mess. Cristian veered onto a less congested side street, hoping to evade the endless sea of cars. Breaking the silence, he suggested, "I know a cozy spot run by a Zhota native--serves excellent food. Let's head there." "Sure," she replied, her tone calm but firm. Just as Fernanda's reply hung in the air, a jarring crash echoed from behind, jolting the car forward. She was thrust back, the seatbelt gnawing into her shoulder. Cristian's gaze darted to the rearview mirror. Suddenly, a van cut sharply across their path, blocking them. On either side, vehicles converged, spilling out men brandishing grim tools, their silhouettes ominous in the dim streetlight. Without hesitation, Cristian reached into the center console, retrieving a kn*fe. "Whatever happens, keep yourself inside the car. Don't even think about stepping out," he instructed firmly, pressing her back into the seat. With a resolute nod, he went on, "I'll take care of them, and afterward, dinner's on me." Cristian wrapped up his conversation, offering Fernanda a fleeting smile that appeared untouched by the surrounding tension. Fernanda folded her arms and settled deeper into her seat, her face a mask of tranquility as she observed Cristian approach the group of armed adversaries. The scene was stark--one man facing off against a throng armed to the teeth. The odds were clearly not in his favor. Yet, as Cristian lifted his foot and dispatched two of the men to the ground with a single, silent kick, Fernanda took note of his precision and power. His technique spoke of extensive training and raw capability. The gang, incited by Cristian's defiance, rushed at him collectively. Sticks sliced through the air, each strike landing with a dense thud that echoed menace. Cristian, however, danced through the tumult with a grace that seemed almost serene. Despite their advantage in numbers, his assailants found themselves floundering to overpower him. One attacker received a blunt punch straight to the face, staggering backward and eventually collapsing against the hood of Cristian's car. As he dabbed at the bl**d dripping from his nose, the man snarled in rage. Catching sight of Fernanda inside the vehicle, a sinister idea sparked within him... ...... 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) &5& | Fragrant Fiction | 62 | https://www.facebook.com/61565957015132/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681466 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/13/25, 6:51 AM | 1738828443 | 1749815460 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | VIDEO | Read next chapter | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=934080944896999&exdata=898E73583E5F9879AED13909669528E0AA7D10A71EABC3A3 | 1.116928118368E+14 | Heat Novel A | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476114824_997922515567065_5765754010331161260_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=7J7epy9Z4iwQ7kNvgHKEZbp&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYBORlJhx-j7EPvi45CIWUs-nw8kRWLiVdAqUPFruqcBqg&oe=67AA4757 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | To survive, she climbed into her so-called uncle's bed. Two years later, she realized she was just a toy. Heartbroken, she left after seeing him at his first love's prenatal checkup. ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi**ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his b*dmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my b*d, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red m*rk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my b*d too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You b**ch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame gr*aning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& | Heat Novel A | 596 | https://www.facebook.com/100089743291944/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681474 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/13/25, 7:01 AM | 1738828443 | 1749816071 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | VIDEO | Read next chapter | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65237322-fb_contact-enj94_2-1207-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=157725&accid=304554039400649&exdata=1900C7F110003453B88A3776AFA48A40B5634253D3D6EAE1 | 3.7558525564194E+14 | Fun Novels | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476122537_1874304679769639_3612482961671201846_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=n3B-AvsfXJ0Q7kNvgGuZRym&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYDubbhszbJ27gp6AZbrZv3JMlj2_TPowl_v9ZZ5LiRLGQ&oe=67AA3BCD | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | The family was happy that the real daughter had returned. As she prepared to leave, the real daughter accused her of copying her designs. Everyone expected her to be humiliated, but unexpectedly, she stunned everyone by revealing her ownership of billion-dollar design patents, striking back and turning the tables. ===== "Take this for your journey. You're set on returning to your original family, and I won't hold you back. It is just that the place you're headed is impoverished and I doubt anyone will even be there to greet you..." Liam Gill, whom Harlee Sanderson had addressed as dad for years, pressed a few hundred-dollar bills into her hand. Downstairs at the Gill family villa, a spirited celebration filled the hall, while upstairs, Harlee quietly folded her clothes into her suitcase. Liam sighed. Just three days earlier, Adelina Gill had shown up holding a DNA report, proving she was his biological daughter. The revelation had sent the entire Gill family into turmoil. Follow-up tests had confirmed that Harlee, the girl who'd been part of their family for years, was not related to them by bl**d. Now that Adelina had returned, the Gills poured all their affection on her, making up for lost time. They treated her like a treasure, eager to erase the suffering she'd endured over the years. Meanwhile, Harlee's last name had been changed that very night. Liam quickly dispatched people to the countryside to locate her real parents. So far, there had been no replies. Today was all about Adelina. The festivities focused on welcoming her as the genuine daughter of the Gill family. "You have such soft skin, and these clothes have been selected with care..." Liam said softly, feeling mixed emotions as he helped Harlee sort through her wardrobe. "You should take these outfits. They're high quality. But when you go back to the countryside, I suppose..." According to the hospital, Harlee's biological parents had visited Adenarora when she was born. They left the next day and returned to their small village. To make matters worse, her parents lived in Osemery's notorious slums, a place infamous for its poverty and crime, where people were often unfriendly and violence was common. Liam surmised Harlee's future there didn't look bright. She wouldn't just lose the luxury she was used to. It seemed, soon enough, she'd be given in marriage to some country bumpkin without any say in the matter. Harlee looked at the cash Liam had pressed into her hand with a blank face. She set the money down on the bedside table. "I'm heading out now." After saying this, Harlee grabbed her suitcase and walked past the people loitering in the hallway. She moved on without glancing back. Averie Gill, Liam's wife, frowned with disdain. "What's with that attitude? Is she upset because it's not enough money for her? For God's sake, we've spent so much on her over the years, especially those beautiful, pricey clothes! How dare she act this way now? Humph! Once she walks out that door, the future ahead of her is nothing but dismal." "Mom, please don't take Harlee's attitude personally. It's only normal for her to be upset about losing her comfortable life abruptly. She's just throwing a little fit. There's no need to be mad at her," Adelina said softly, her tone filled with feigned concern. Adelina knew a bit about Harlee's background after the investigation. Harlee's biological parents were the poorest in the village with their family grave being defaced yet lacking money to fix it. Worse, Harlee's biological parents had five hungry sons, with a sick mother and a disabled father to care for. Harlee wasn't just returning to a rundown area. It was more like a nightmare. Adelina smiled gently, masking her glee. "I'll go say goodbye to Harlee." Once Harlee was out of sight, Liam let out a sigh and turned to Averie. "We raised her. She's leaving everything she's ever known. Don't be too harsh on her." "Harsh? Come on!" Averie shot back. "Her worthless parents might have switched babies on purpose to make our precious daughter suffer. Just thinking about it makes my blood boil. How could I possibly feel sorry for Harlee?" Harlee took the side exit, trying to steer clear of the banquet hall altogether. Adelina caught up with her, wearing a sugary smile. "Harlee, I really need to apologize about my thing with Collin. I know you were supposed to marry him, but he just fell head over heels for me." It felt less like an apology and more like a brag. Collin George came from a powerful family that matched the Gills. He had been engaged to Harlee, but now, with everything that had happened, the future bride had changed. "Collin has always been so sweet and caring. Honestly, I hate to flaunt our love in front of you, but he can't help it. Harlee, I hope this hasn't upset you too much," Adelina said, feigning concern. Harlee raised her eyebrows, wearing an indifferent smile. "Watching two f*ols date is hilarious. Why would I be upset?" Chapter 2 The Kind Real Daughter And The Vicious Fake One "Harlee!" Adelina shouted, her face bright red with anger. Harlee had just insulted her and Collin. Such audacity! Harlee's grin widened. "You and Collin are just perfect together. One kicks people when they're down, and the other follows the money." Adelina had just returned to the Gill family for only three days, and Collin appeared to be already smitten. Harlee found it all hilarious. Just as Adelina was about to lose her temper and hurl insults at Harlee, she noticed Averie coming down the stairs. In an instant, Adelina pressed her lips together, tears threatening to spill from her eyes as she adopted a pitiful expression. She quickly wiped away her fake tears. Averie took in the scene, her anger boiling over. She hurried over and yelled, "Harlee, it's unsurprising that your biological parents are impoverished rustic individuals. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Your lack of manners is quite apparent! You couldn't leave without taking one last jab at Adelina? Should I just throw you out?" "No manners? Maybe it's because that's the way you raised me," Harlee shot back, her smile dripping with sarcasm. Harlee had never met her real parents. When Averie claimed that Harlee lacked manners after so many years of living with the Gills, she was actually insulting the Gill family. Averie had never seen Harlee so sharp-tongued before. She pressed her hand to her chest, as if she might faint from anger. Adelina's eyes turned red, her face showing feigned concern. "Harlee, I understand you're upset. Though you are no longer part of the Gill family, I found you a job in the countryside. If you work hard, you can support yourself." Adelina held up a recommendation letter, which Harlee glanced at. It was for a cleaning job at a motel in a small town. Adelina attempted to place the letter in Harlee's hands but accidentally knocked Harlee's bag to the floor, sending a small sketchbook tumbling out. The guests in the banquet hall spotted it, their eyes growing wide with disbelief. Everyone knew Adelina had recently been celebrated as a genius in fashion design. She always carried her sketchbook with her. Soon, she would become the creative director at the Gill family's fashion company. Adelina's face twisted in mock shock as she covered her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes. "Harlee, why do you have my sketchbook in your bag?" Harlee frowned, feeling annoyed. Once again, Adelina had set her up. "How could you steal Adelina's design sketches?" Averie's expression darkened, and she raised her voice at Harlee. "You cold-hearted thief! Were you trying to rob Adelina of her future? With those designs, you could get into any fashion company! You really have some nerve. You're just a thankless snake!" At the commotion, Liam frowned and walked over. "What's going on here?" Adelina's eyes filled with tears. "Mom, dad, please don't hold it against Harlee. She must have been reluctant to leave the Gill family and therefore did something desperate. It's fine. I can always come up with new designs." "Those designs are essential for you to take over as director! Our family depends on them, too! Harlee stealing them isn't just hurting you. She's putting our whole family at risk. She's just heartless. Stop trying to defend her!" Averie snapped, her voice dripping with anger. "Mom, I'm sure Harlee didn't mean to do it..." Adelina tugged at Averie's sleeve, her voice sounding calm and compassionate. Adelina then turned to Harlee. "Harlee, I know you're afraid of having nothing once you leave the Gill family, but I can't let you keep these sketches. Yet, I will help you get a job at a clothing factory in your hometown. Please work hard and no more thieving. Just stop these sneaky tricks, okay?" The bystanders couldn't help but watch the scene unfold, each of them praising Adelina. "Adelina is simply amazing. She's not only gifted in design but also incredibly magnanimous. She's a true Gill all the way." "What's the use of stealing Adelina's sketches? Does Harlee even know how to design? She's just trying to grab what doesn't belong to her. How could she stoop to this low?" "Everyone knows how much Adelina values her designs. Even with her future at stake, she still defends Harlee. Adelina is way too kind, while Harlee is just vicious!" Amid the guests' praises, Adelina raised her head, looking gentle and virtuous. "After all, Harlee was once part of the Gill family. If I can help her, I will." The guests kept on voicing their thoughts, their opinions of Harlee sinking while their admiration for Adelina grew. They noted that while Adelina might not have been as stunning, her heart was far kinder than Harlee's. Harlee's eyes swept over the guests surrounding her. Most of them appeared to watch the situation unfold with interest, more eager to voice their opinions than uncover the truth. Eventually, Harlee's gaze landed on Adelina, who donned a smug face. Harlee had actually gone through this particular sketchbook. On Adelina's very first day back home, she had taken it out during dinner, sketching dramatically in front of everyone, eager to show off her talent for fashion design. Not satisfied yet, Adelina aimed to boost her own reputation as a design genius by misleading the guests into believing Harlee had stolen her sketchbook. Harlee scoffed. Did Adelina really not see who she was imitating, or was she just that foolish? Adelina's sketchbook held over two hundred designs, but the funniest thing was that the fifty best ones were outright copies of the latest collections from top brands. Adelina had taken beautiful, high-end designs and twisted them into complicated, tasteless mixtures, robbing them of their original grace and simplicity. Instead of couture, it resembled homework wrapped up in haste from some design major students. Worse, Harlee even spotted some of her own designs that she had previously shared online. Clearly, Adelina had been living in a fantasy for so long that she might have started to believe herself to be a design genius. Harlee's lips curled into a sarcastic smile, and her intense gaze locked onto Adelina, seeing through her antics. At Harlee's charming smile, an unshakeable feeling of unease washed over Adelina. ...... How will Harlee fight back? Can Harlee successfully find her biological parents? What happens next? 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| 2681534 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/13/25, 7:47 PM | 1738828444 | 1749862040 | 2478 | fb.lovenovelshort.com | Learn more | VIDEO | Read all now👉 | https://fb.lovenovelshort.com/book/loading/page/novelshortnew/051054552235?utm_campaign={{campaign.id}}&utm_content={{campaign.name}} | 4.5569316428998E+14 | Novel Short - Emotional Story | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475979773_1094331342439544_158916833142048130_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=7tA2pxKiqeAQ7kNvgEJxisC&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYBd0ekHojfXcrCL5lnwzTbZfNsbO1zKdRLUgJoGgrtJPQ&oe=67AA33EC | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | I sat by the bay window of our penthouse suite, gazing at the city skyline under the crescent moon. Tonight marked five years since I bonded with Caleb Darkwood, Alpha of the Crescent Moon Pack and a wealthy werewolf billionaire. It should have been a night of celebration, but unspoken truths weighed heavily on my heart. Caleb had broken another promise. Instead of being with me, he’d gone to a pack council meeting in Zurich, taking Zara—his Beta’s sister and new “executive advisor”—with him. Her presence in his life felt too close for comfort. Her scent, a mix of vanilla and wild jasmine, often clung to his suits, something he refused to explain. When Caleb finally returned from his trip, it felt like an eternity. He stormed into the penthouse, his Armani suit sharp and his golden eyes glowing with restrained power. He brought a sapphire pendant, its blue sparkle as tempting as the promises he never kept. “It symbolizes our eternal bond,” he said, his tone soft as he fastened the necklace around my neck. His fingers lingered, their touch meant to soothe, but I could feel the subtle edge of guilt in his gestures. For a moment, I wanted to believe him, to hold onto the memory of the man I had once loved, the one who fought to win my heart. But as I looked out the window, I saw Zara below in the courtyard, laughing with a group of business associates. Zara wore a moonstone bracelet on her wrist, a symbol of affection and loyalty in werewolf tradition—something Caleb had once promised would be mine alone. I turned back to him, forcing a smile, but the image of Zara lingered in my mind like acid. Her laughter drifted up, carefree and sure, as if she believed she had already won. Days later, I overheard them in one of the pack’s boardrooms. Caleb’s deep, commanding voice carried through the partially closed door, tinged with the casual familiarity that had become my waking nightmare. “You’re overthinking it,” Caleb said, his tone laced with reassurance. “You’re underestimating her,” Zara replied sharply. “She’s not as blind as you think. Amalia knows something’s going on.” “She trusts me,” Caleb replied with a confidence that twisted my stomach. “That’s all that matters.” Their laughter that followed felt like a knife twisting in my gut, sharp and merciless. The breaking point came during a pack charity gala, held in one of Caleb’s luxury skyscrapers. Wolves mingled in their finest attire, sipping champagne and discussing business ventures under the glow of crystal chandeliers. I stood to the side in the emerald gown Caleb had insisted on buying, the sapphire pendant heavy around my neck. Across the room, Zara lingered near Caleb in a crimson gown, her every move calculated. She whispered to him, her hand brushing his arm. Caleb chuckled, his expression familiar. Then his gaze met mine. For a brief moment, guilt flashed in his eyes, but it quickly vanished. Later that night, Caleb tried to make amends. He presented me with a shimmering cloak of custom-spun silk, its fabric glinting like liquid silver. “It reminded me of you,” he said, draping it over my shoulders with practiced tenderness. I forced a smile, but inside, resentment boiled like a storm waiting to break. These gestures were nothing more than distractions, illusions meant to blind me to the truth. Caleb’s attentiveness grew suffocating after that. He began scheduling meetings around my availability, brought me roses imported from Italy, and lavished me with promises of private trips to exotic locations. But his efforts only deepened my resolve. One afternoon, I sought solace in the pack’s rooftop garden, high above the city streets. Instead, I found Zara standing by a fountain, her phone in hand. She glanced up, her blue eyes narrowing as I approached. “Luna,” she greeted with a syrupy smile. “Out for some fresh air? Caleb and I were just finalizing the expansion plans for our Singapore office. He’s quite the visionary, isn’t he?” Her words were deliberate, meant to provoke me. I didn’t bite. “Is that so?” I replied calmly. My gaze dropped to the delicate chain around her neck—a gold locket I had seen at Caleb’s office days ago. She smirked, sensing my gaze, and for a moment, her mask slipped. Beneath her polished exterior, she was a woman who took pleasure in my discomfort, seeing me not as Luna but as an obstacle. When the full moon arrived, Caleb spared no expense. The great hall of the skyscraper was turned into a glittering ballroom, filled with wolves and influential allies. “To more years of love and loyalty,” Caleb declared, presenting me with a ruby pendant said to be carved from the heart of a fallen star. He fastened the chain around my neck, the crowd erupting in applause. I smiled as Caleb kissed my cheek, but my fingers gripped the gemstone tightly. In the shadows, I saw Zara watching, her jealousy barely hidden. They thought I was weak. That I’d stay silent. They were wrong. The next morning, I stood in the migration office, a sleek, modern space tucked away from the pack’s primary headquarters. “Ms. Amelia Wren, your allegiance to the Crescent Moon Pack has been officially renounced,” the clerk said, stamping the final document. “Shall I process your Luna bond dissolution?” “Yes,” I replied, my voice steady. “This is irreversible,” she warned. “Once the bond is broken, your mate will no longer sense or track you.” “That’s precisely what I want.” I smiled at her and slid an envelope of cash across the counter. “And that ensures confidentiality.” The ruby pendant weighed heavily around my neck as I left, its sparkle a cruel reminder of the life I was leaving behind. In the town square, a massive screen displayed Caleb’s latest press conference: “Alpha Caleb Darkwood Secures Legendary Ruby for His Luna.” Fascinating, right? The crowd murmured about how perfect we were. Perfect? They had no idea. Chapter 02 The unraveling began one night. I had come home late from a high-profile meeting with the board of Crescent Moon Enterprises, the sprawling tech and real estate empire Caleb ran as Alpha of the Crescent Moon Pack. The weight of the business dealings and the constant pressure of being his Luna and his corporate partner had me exhausted. Caleb was asleep in our penthouse, his muscular frame sprawled across the silk sheets of our massive bed. The soft glow of city lights filtered through the windows, casting shadows on his peaceful face. At first, everything seemed normal. But then I saw it. A photo. I grabbed it. Stared at something obvious in the image. The brunette strand of hair resting on Caleb’s chest—it wasn’t mine. I froze, my breath catching, my heart skipping a beat. I clenched my fists, the photo burning in my hand. But I couldn’t react just yet. I approached the bed slowly, my pulse racing, forcing myself to stay calm. I already knew the answer—I just needed confirmation. "Who is she, Caleb?" I asked, my voice steady, betraying none of the fury building inside me. Caleb blinked awake, confusion flickering across his face before it shifted to an easy calm, his usual corporate mask slipping into place. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, his golden eyes glinting with that familiar controlled power. "Lia, don’t start. You know my loyalty is to you and the pack." I held up the photo. "Explain this." He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair, his expression adopting that all-too-familiar calm. "It’s not what you think. Zara stayed late to go over some financial reports and property acquisitions for the pack. She must have—" "Must have what?" I cut him off, my voice rising, the tension thickening the air. "Accidentally left a piece of herself in our bed?" His jaw tightened, the calm slipping for just a second. "You don’t understand the pressure of being Alpha, Amalia. The pack needs unity, and Zara is essential to keeping everything running smoothly. She’s been handling the business side of things so I can focus on the pack." I didn’t say anything. His words felt like a cheap excuse. A lie. That night, as Caleb slept beside me, I sat up, holding the photo in my hands. I reached for the pen and paper in the drawer and wrote a goodbye letter—though I wasn’t ready to use it yet. Something inside me had shifted. The trust I once had in Caleb was gone, and I wasn’t sure it could be repaired. A week later, Caleb hosted a lavish event in the pack’s penthouse at Crescent Moon Tower. The gala was filled with wolves in business suits, influential allies, and powerful werewolves from around the world. Caleb stood at the center of the room in a tailored Armani suit, exuding power as both a businessman and Alpha. He presented me with another ruby necklace, its red gem gleaming in the light. He kissed my cheek as he fastened it around my neck. "Forgive me," he murmured, but there was no real remorse in his voice. The crowd cheered, but I barely noticed. Across the room, Zara stood in a tight emerald dress, her eyes fixed on me, filled with barely hidden jealousy. She didn’t just want Caleb—she wanted my place, my title, my life as Luna. Zara’s true nature was starting to show, not just to me but to everyone around her. She wasn’t content being Caleb’s business partner or his trusted executive advisor. She wanted everything. And Caleb... Caleb was blind to it, or perhaps, he didn’t care enough to notice. The cracks deepened after that night. At a council meeting, I proposed an alliance with the Bloodstone Pack, a rival group in the tech sector. The deal would give us a foothold in their territory and secure more contracts. But as soon as I presented the proposal, Zara quickly undermined me. “I’m sure Luna Amalia means well,” Zara said sweetly, her voice sugar-coated. “But wouldn’t it be a bit too risky for Crescent Moon Enterprises to tie itself with Bloodstone right now?” She didn’t even look at me as she spoke, her tone laced with a passive-aggressive edge. Caleb didn’t even bother to defend me. He simply stayed silent, his eyes unreadable, his face expressionless. The silence was worse than anything she could’ve said. At a corporate harvest festival hosted by the pack’s elite, Zara found another way to dig her claws into me. She brought me honey cakes—my favorite treat, the one Caleb had once promised never to let anyone else offer me to ensure the ingredients will be safe for me for I have an allergy. “Caleb told me how much you love them,” she said with a fake innocence, holding the plate out to me with a sweet smile. I managed to force a polite smile. "Thank you, Zara. This is so sweet of you." Later that evening, I overheard her talking to Tyrian, one of the pack’s scouts, in hushed tones. "She doesn’t deserve him," Zara hissed. "She’s weak. A rogue pretending to be Luna." I felt the sting of her words like a slap to my face. She wasn’t wrong. I had once been an outsider. But Caleb fought for me to be part of his pack. That night, I retreated to my hidden sanctuary beneath the penthouse, a space I had created for myself, away from Caleb. Here, I kept my escape plans—plans I wasn’t ready to act on yet but knew I would need. I stared at the newest ruby necklace Caleb had given me. Its weight felt suffocating, a symbol of everything wrong in my life. Chapter 03 Caleb insisted on another dinner celebration for our anniversary. He’d been busy with work all week, managing his empire that he had built from the ground up. I wasn’t sure if he genuinely wanted to celebrate us or if it was just another way to keep up appearances, but I went along with it anyway. Even disregarding what I saw and heard from Zara earlier. At the office, Zara intentionally flaunted to her office mates her new diamond ring given to her by rich boyfriend when she saw me stepping out of Caleb’s office. Rich boyfriend, huh?! Tsk. I sourly looked at Caleb. How could he calmly cheat on me and continue acting so loving and caring? What an actor! We were halfway to the restaurant when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, and his jaw tightened. “An urgent issue at the company,” he said, his voice clipped. “I’ll drop you off and join you later.” I smiled, the kind of smile I had perfected over the years. "Sure, no problem." But something inside me didn’t buy it. Something about the way he said it, the quick glance at the phone—something wasn’t right. It’s Zara. Obviously. As the car veered toward the company’s building instead of the restaurant, I caught a faint but familiar scent in the air. Zara. Again. Her vanilla and wild jasmine scent lingered in the car, as though she had just been there. I pushed the thought away. The more I think of Zara, the more she pisses me off. That night, I waited for Caleb in the sitting room. It was well past midnight when he finally walked in, surprised to see me still awake. His eyes widened when he saw the small box in my hands. "Recognize this?" I asked, my voice steady despite the tightness in my chest. He froze, taking in the mementos inside: movie tickets, a dried lavender sprig, and a photo from our first run together under the full moon. Old memories, moments that once felt real. His expression softened as he reached for the box. "I’ll fix us, Lia," he whispered, almost pleading. "I swear." I handed him a sealed envelope. "Open this on the next full moon. It’s my gift to you," I said, unsure if I meant it. He took the envelope, looking confused, but didn’t question me. He gave me a half-smile and left without another word. The days leading up to the full moon were a blur. I couldn’t focus on anything except the growing tension between Caleb and me. Something had shifted in him, but I couldn’t pinpoint what. The business was clearly becoming more important to him, and I saw it in his face, his distance, and especially in how often he spent time with Zara. I went to see Astrid, the pack’s doctor, and my closest confidant. She was one of the few people I trusted completely. We met in her small, cozy apartment. “Are you sure of your plans?” Astrid asked me. She knew my plan to cut my ties with Caleb and the pack. “Zara’s ambitious. She’s dangerous, Lia. She won’t stop until she’s sitting in your seat. You need to stay sharp." “There was hesitation, yes. A small part of me questioned if I was making the right decision. But the larger part—” I stared at Astrid, “the part that had been watching Caleb and Zara for weeks now, the way they exchanged glances, the way his eyes softened when she spoke… I was done with waiting and playing a good Luna, Astrid. I wasn’t about to let this continue. If this was the path I was going to take, I wasn’t going to lose.” Later that afternoon, I took matters into my own hands. The marketplace was as busy as ever, and I made sure my words reached the right ears. I wasn’t subtle. I spread rumors about Zara’s growing influence and her plan to replace me. By the time I left, I knew the whispers had already started. I had time, but not much. Soon, everyone would know the truth: Zara was trying to take everything from me. Caleb, however, seemed oblivious—or maybe he didn’t care. I had no more time to waste. That evening, I decided to clear my mind with a walk through the estate grounds. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, the rustling leaves matching the swirl of thoughts racing through my mind. I didn’t want to admit, but the weight of everything—Caleb’s betrayal, Zara’s scheming, the entire pack watching my every move—was overwhelming. I had to make a decision, but I needed clarity. Time to stop being reactive and take control. As I walked into the park, I heard footsteps—quiet, almost too quiet. My wolf, Bella, instantly alerted, my heart rate spiking. I wasn’t alone. From the shadows, a tall figure emerged, his amber eyes glowing under the moonlight. He wasn’t from the pack, I could tell. His presence was strong and calm, unlike anyone I’d met. He didn’t seem to have an agenda, but there was something magnetic about him, like he was exactly what I needed right now. "You look like someone about to take down a kingdom," he said, his voice low and oddly familiar. I raised an eyebrow. "And what if I am?" A slow, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Then you’re not alone." “It’s not a kingdom,” I smiled bitterly. “An empire.” “I think you might want my help…” He grinned. “For what cost?” “Just promise you will leave Caleb…” I frowned. Not that I care anymore for Caleb, but why did he want that? “Who are you?” I asked. He grinned again. “Your knight.” “I don't need a knight.” I turned my back on him. I walked away and went straight to my husband’s tower. My husband’s tower, indeed, for I will soon leave him and all he possesses before the next full moon. Chapter 04 I sneered the moment Caleb turned around for he needed to leave early for another “urgent meeting.” I sipped my coffee, the bitterness grounding me as I mentally replayed Zara’s smug words. “She’s not as blind as you think.” Zara’s voice dripped with confidence when she stated that. The nerve of her! I squinted my eyes and sighed to calm myself. She was right—I wasn’t blind. But I had allowed myself to be silent. She could continue rejoicing but it will be no longer. I had spent the last few days quietly observing, piecing together the clues they so carelessly left behind. Caleb was growing bolder in his deceit, and Zara was more than happy to flaunt her supposed victory. But I wasn’t ready to lose—not yet. The next step of my plan was the corporate stronghold. The air inside Crescent Moon Tower buzzed with efficiency, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with expensive cologne. Zara was perched behind Caleb’s desk, her manicured fingers tapping at a keyboard. “Luna,” Zara said, her tone a mix of mockery and forced politeness. “To what do we owe the pleasure?” I ignored her. I gazed over the office, wandering. Caleb’s chair was angled slightly toward hers, their closeness unmistakable. On the desk was a gold locket—one I had seen Caleb gave her at a gala. “I just wanted to check on the expansion plans for the Bloodstone territory,” I replied, keeping my voice even. Calm. Her lips curled into a smirk. “Oh, those? Caleb and I discussed them last night. He agrees with me—it's too risky to proceed right now. But of course, we value your input.” The barb was subtle but clear. She wanted me to feel irrelevant, powerless. I refused to take the bait. I smiled so sweetly that she could get diabetes. “Good,” I said. “Because I’ll be presenting an updated proposal to the council next week. After all, Caleb does value unity within the pack, right?” Her smirk faltered for a fraction of a second before she recovered. “Of… of course,” she said smoothly after almost stuttering, her gaze sharpening. Satisfied seeing how I’d left her uneasy with just like that, I turned and walked out. As I stepped into the elevator, my fingers itched to crush the phone in my hand. Instead, I pulled up a number to call. Ethan—the one I had met at the park nights ago. I had no idea actually why Ethan looked for me. He said he wanted to help. Even though I was curious about his reasons, still it’s unnecessary to ask. His offer was all I needed. For now. Ethan answered on the second ring, his voice calm and steady. “Amalia.” “I’m ready to talk,” I hushed. Ethan chuckled. I wanna drop the call because he didn't sound serious at all. Then, he informed me where and when we will talk personally. He ended the call and I was left staring at his number on my phone’s screen. I sighed and went to the penthouse. That evening, I met Ethan in a secluded corner of the rooftop garden. The city lights glittered below, the air thick with the scent of pine and damp earth. He leaned casually against the railing, his amber eyes reflecting the moonlight. “So,” he began, his tone teasing, “ready to take down the empire now?” I folded my arms, meeting his gaze head-on. “Not yet. But I’ll need your help when I start.” His grin widened, and for a moment, I forgot why I had been so wary of him. Ethan exuded a confidence that was magnetic, reassuring even. “Smart move,” he said. “But if you want my help, you need to know something first.” I raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that?” He stepped closer, the air between us changed. “Caleb isn’t just cheating on you with Zara. He’s been funneling pack funds into secret accounts—accounts tied to Zara’s name.” The words hit me like a blow, but I didn’t let my expression falter. “How… How do you know this?” Ethan snickered. “Let’s just say I have my sources. And I have proof, if…” he trailed off and stared at my eyes, “if only you’re interested.” I hesitated. I gulped. The weight of his words sinking in. Ethan wasn’t just offering me a lifeline; he was offering me a weapon. I gazed at him. Searching for something I didn't actually need to look for. I blinked and stepped back from him. “Send me the proof,” I said finally, my voice steady. “And don’t think for a second that I trust you.” His laughter was low and rich, like the rumble of thunder. “Fair enough. But trust me when I say this—Caleb’s downfall will be your salvation, Lia.” I nodded. I’m out of words looking at him. Must I trust him? ‘Yes!’ Bella excitedly answered. “Are you with me or not?” Ethan asked with another grin on his lips. I nodded slowly. “I wanna hear confirmation, Lia.” “Me being here is already a confirmation, Ethan.” “It’s just yes or no, Lia. Are you with me or not?” I pursed my lips. “Yes, I am…” “You are?” “With you…” I didn’t know why it’s hard for me to say that. Not because I care much for still being married to Caleb. It's just that I felt there was another deep meaning of it as I say it. “With me.” Ethan smiled widely at me. “Why do I feel you are sounding nervous?” “Enough with your teasing tone, Mr—” I was lost. I had no idea of his last name. Much as I wanted formality, I can’t go through it because I only know his first name. “Ethan Wolfhart.” He smiled. “Mr. Wolfhart then.” I squinted my eyes. “And I meant it, please stop your teasing tone. I’m not used to it and—” I ended what I was saying. I sighed. “And?” “I’m not here making friends with you…” I stated. “I hope you get what I mean.” “I told you to fix it!” Caleb barked. He was pacing the living room with his phone pressed to his ear. “I don’t care how it happens—just make sure it’s handled before the council meeting!” He spotted me hovering at the edge of the room and, like magic, the rage vanished. His face smoothed into something softer, a mask that I’d once believed was real. “Morning, Lia,” he said with a warm tone. He moved toward me, his smile so polished. “Did I wake you?” “No,” I lied, watching him closely. “Everything okay?” “Just pack matters,” he replied with a dismissive wave. “Nothing you need to worry about.” He leaned in to kiss my cheek, and I let him. His lips brushed my skin, but the gesture was empty, hollow. A habit, not a connection. As he disappeared into his office, I retreated back to the master’s bedroom. My phone was still on the desk where I’d left it. Ethan’s message from stared back at me. ETHAN: Check your email. My heart thudded as I opened the email. The attachments loaded one by one: bank transfers, encrypted messages, photographs of Caleb and Zara in shadowy corners of Crescent Moon Tower. My hands trembled as I scrolled through the damning evidence. Ethan hadn’t been exaggerating. This wasn’t just betrayal—it was calculated, ruthless. The final attachment was a video, dated last week. I hit play, and the air seemed to drain from the room. Caleb and Zara were in a private boardroom. Zara leaned casually against the table, her smirk sharp enough to cut. “She’ll figure it out eventually,” Zara said, her tone half-warning, half-mocking. “You can’t hide everything forever. You should divorce her and make me—” “I love her.” Caleb leaned back, smirking. “And Amalia doesn’t need to know. As long as she loves me, we’re fine.” Zara raised an eyebrow. “And when she realizes about us?” | Novel Short - Emotional Story | 4816 | https://www.facebook.com/61567072857011/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| 2681469 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/14/25, 2:55 AM | 1738828443 | 1749887707 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | VIDEO | Read next chapter | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=157725&accid=7929461117168105&exdata=C53DCDAE4F2816FFCFCB9675F78B149BF80A2267A61A6636 | 3.7558525564194E+14 | Fun Novels | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476119449_1766197834225633_2354095710568983624_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=cXH395IkjXcQ7kNvgFeNW8t&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYCitrWmb04YG8vd6kLPKQEw4QZmM-kGcgvxWIyv62GC2A&oe=67AA4EAB | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | After two crazy years, she decided to let go and return him to his first love. But he refused to let her go. "Don't leave me. Tomorrow's engagement is with you!" ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi**ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his b*dmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my b*d, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red m*rk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my b*d too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You b**ch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame gr*aning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &4& | Fun Novels | 2477 | https://www.facebook.com/61563251196448/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681496 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/14/25, 4:09 AM | 1738828444 | 1749892179 | 2478 | amazon.com | Learn more | IMAGE | New Spicy Bossy Billionaires Box Set! 🌶️ | Your night is about to become a whole lot HOTTER | https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DS83TCGM | 1.4518338868237E+14 | Brooke Bolton Romance | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476109513_3891763997818934_6894721236121377761_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=UQY8xzVrIFkQ7kNvgGG318p&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=AI2MUU60gqCj3U6bB0wLlfp&oh=00_AYDPoWyajPGhph0osGTQF8yltR6GVPhOAx98E70KYGuBxg&oe=67AA217C | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | “Do you ever wish you could go back in time?” Brett swims closer to me, heat radiating between the two of us. “Yes.” The look he gives me sets every nerve on fire. Just like the first night we met, there’s something about him that pulls me closer, even though I now know I should be running the other way. My tongue darts out to lick saltwater from my bottom lip. “When?” His gaze rakes down my body before returning to my eyes. “That night at the club. The morning after when I left without a word.” The way he speaks sends my heart crashing through my chest. The world around me comes to a stop as he moves closer to me. I swim backward, feet touching the bottom of the pool as I reach the shallow end. He keeps advancing, trapping me between the wall of the pool and his warm body. His hands land on the edge of the pool on either side of me, keeping me caged in. “Do you think about that night?” “Sometimes.” “We’re not good for each other.” His head dips closer to mine. The couple inches between us would be all too easy to close. “You’re right about that. You’re a jerk and I have things I want to accomplish in life.” “You think that I would hold you back from accomplishing them?” His voice is husky, but there’s a low note of amusement, the corner of his mouth twitching. “In my experience, men only want women to stay home and push out children.” Brett barks out a laugh, one hand falling to the curve of my waist. “That’s not what I want to do with you at all.” Alarm bells ring in my head, but the side of me that’s desperate for him blissfully ignores them as I hook a leg over his hip. He smirks, fingers tightening on my waist. “You know, your boldness was one of my favorite things about you.” I roll my hips, grinding my core against him as my hands go to his shoulders. “You going to stand there talking all night, or are we going to do this?” ***Read what happens next for FREE in Kindle Unlimited, Forbidden Bossy Billionaires*** Four full-length enemies to lovers romance novels in one sizzling box set! 🌶🔥https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DS83TCGM | Brooke Bolton Romance | 15 | https://www.facebook.com/BrookeBoltonPublishing/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681594 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/9/25, 6:55 AM | 1738828446 | 1749470115 | 2478 | arialief.digital | Learn More | DCO | Yellow Vitamin Simplified | A balanced approach designed for daily comfort. | https://www.arialief.digital/ | 5.3309933322672E+14 | Pietra De Souza | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476230666_451386417931962_433010422203689701_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=MqPL5gz2r7YQ7kNvgEitRLA&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYA-DdHu6pBoMnVq2lzCDiWyU2Zqw7-kKLZYYvQWQ0tkHA&oe=67AA2DA4 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Simple, balanced, and essential: the yellow vitamin for our daily care. | Pietra De Souza | 2 | https://www.facebook.com/61572313935891/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681573 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 5/1/25, 3:57 PM | 1738828445 | 1746133063 | 2478 | arialief.digital | Watch More | DCO | Simplicity in Daily Routine. | More than 22.398 people have viewed it. | https://www.arialief.digital/ | 5.3309933322672E+14 | Pietra De Souza | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475978497_983859280310594_6587331114812399550_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=tZvMWk1QBigQ7kNvgGDWkt5&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYAeUO9vnebMIO0qN0FFcsYxggkxGc-09r2HjmkyTwqIQw&oe=67AA577F | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | The yellow vitamin that supports balance and simplifies daily.😍 | Pietra De Souza | 2 | https://www.facebook.com/61572313935891/ | 0 | WATCH_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681600 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/10/25, 4:06 AM | 1738828446 | 1749546418 | 2478 | tryleaply.com | Learn more | IMAGE | Reduced Anxiety and Stress by 68.5% ✅ | Leaply VGN quiz | https://tryleaply.com/vgn?utm_source=fb&utm_acc=A1_Leaply&v=challvnn | 3.0133283639906E+14 | Leaply | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476163439_2045165449312911_4419869015314917691_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=1RN80cyoBFMQ7kNvgEGARLz&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=A478XfGjRtzgWmdwHjL6DFs&oh=00_AYB0tGeZLb4ZM3zPOA4O4dlaDyX-Shc_bWPywDV_MHTlfw&oe=67AA2B94 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | Is stress and anxiety holding you back? Join the Vagus Nerve Reset Challenge to: ✅ Reduce stress ✅ Get rid of anxiety ✅ Escape survival mode ✅ Overcome constant fatigue and chaos ✅ Restore your sense of calm Start with a quick 1-minute quiz 👉 | Leaply | 5869 | https://www.facebook.com/61559545764014/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681511 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/4/25, 7:56 AM | 1738828444 | 1749041782 | 2478 | website.metronovel.com | Learn more | VIDEO | 😎Click here to Read on More Spicy Chapters👉 | https://website.metronovel.com/share/middle_new/lv2jyrpkmxi3aioozhlfmsnj?campaign_id={{campaign.id}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&campaign={{campaign.name}}&adgroup={{adset.name}} | 4.0179891634313E+14 | Read Web Stories | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475969432_1565220637516557_794314054707974929_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zv2Mm9lm-GsQ7kNvgHCu5UG&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=AI2MUU60gqCj3U6bB0wLlfp&oh=00_AYBwF144j5qbKaKUTaotsPc3a5n4N6SQhBUqv0G5p2uACQ&oe=67AA484B | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | At dawn, Odalys Stone cracked open her eyes, the sunlight pouring through the window making her squint. For a moment, she stared blankly, her mind groggy, before her gaze fell on the crooked calendar on the wall. A bitter smile tugged at her lips. She was back. Back to this godforsaken day—the day her life had been ripped apart. The day she was sold into a marriage from hell, betrayed by the very people she had called family, and ultimately killed. Hatred boiled in her veins, rising like a tide that threatened to drown her. But just as quickly, she forced it down, letting icy calm take its place. Her past life had already wrung every last drop of emotion out of her. Not this time. This time, she wasn't that naive, helpless girl. She was alive. And she was here to make them pay, every single one of them. The sound of heavy footsteps snapped her out of her thoughts. A sharp knock rattled the door, followed by louder, more impatient banging. Before Odalys could even move, the door burst open with a deafening crash. A tall figure stormed in, grabbing her arm roughly and yanking her up. "Odalys Stone, are you fucking deaf?" Henry Bennett barked, his grip bruising, his expression one of pure rage. Her face turned glacial, her lips curling into a sneer. Without hesitation, she twisted his wrist sharply and shoved him away with enough force to make him stumble. As he regained his balance, blinking in stunned disbelief, Odalys calmly reached for her phone, pressing the record button without missing a beat. Henry gawked at her, his jaw slack. This wasn't the meek, obedient sister he knew—the one who flinched at his every word. She wasn't cowering or apologizing. She had fought back. "What the hell's gotten into you?" he spat, pointing an accusatory finger at her. "Do you think this is some kind of joke? The Stewarts are coming today, and you're still lying in bed? Do you want them to take Sophia instead? Is that it?" Odalys's gaze hardened, her voice cutting through his tirade like a knife. "Why, Henry? Isn't she the one engaged to him? Or is it because their son is dying that you want me to take her place? You're scared she'll end up a widow, but me? I'm just expendable, right?" His mouth opened and closed, his face turning an ugly shade of red. "Sophia is different," he muttered, his eyes darting away. "If people find out she's been married before, her life will be ruined." A bitter laugh escaped her lips, sharp and cold. "Oh, I see. Her reputation is sacred, but mine? That's disposable? How fucking convenient." Henry's fists clenched at his sides, his face twisting with anger. Before he could lash out, a frail figure appeared at the doorway. "Henry, stop," Sophia Bennett said, her voice trembling as tears streamed down her pale cheeks. She looked heartbreakingly pitiful, her wide eyes shimmering with sorrow. "I'll do it. I'll marry him, okay? If he dies, then... then I'll..." Her voice broke into sobs, her frail body shaking as though she might collapse. "Enough!" Hannah Bennett's voice sliced through the room like a whip. Odalys turned her gaze to her mother, who stood at the doorway flanked by her two brothers, Caspian and Atlas Bennett. Their faces were etched with fury, their contempt for her palpable. "Odalys," Caspian snapped, his fists tightening, "how can you be so heartless? Sophia is your sister. Are you really going to let her face this alone?" Atlas crossed his arms, his tone dripping with disgust. "We're not asking you to die. Just marry him for a while. Once he's gone, you'll come back safe and sound. What's the big deal?" Their audacity was almost laughable. Before her time travel, this might have broken her. She might have screamed, begged them to see reason, only to be crushed under their blackmail and cruelty. She had been drugged, stripped of her dignity, and forced into that cursed marriage. And when it became too much, she had ended it all in despair. But not this time. "Fine," she said coolly, her tone so steady it was almost unnerving. "I never said I wouldn't marry him." Taking a deep breath, Odalys straightened her shoulders, her lips curling into a calm, almost serene smile. Without a word, she walked to her desk, picking up a pen and paper. Her phone, still recording, caught every calculated move. The room fell silent. They exchanged confused glances, trying to figure out what game she was playing. A moment later, she turned back to them, holding out a document she'd just written. "Here's the deal—you're all signing this agreement to sever any and all family ties with me. I want it airtight, legally binding, and notarized. No bullshit, no loopholes. Once that's done, I'll marry the guy. Simple as that." Their stunned silence quickly turned to outrage. Atlas grabbed the document with a sneer, his voice dripping with mockery. "You? Cut ties with us? Who the hell do you think you are? Spit it out—how much do you want?" Henry didn't even hesitate. He pulled a sleek black card from his wallet and tossed it onto the table with a cold, detached expression. "Thirty thousand dollars. Take it and get out. Stop playing the victim—it's just a goddamn wedding. You're acting like we're sending you to the gallows." Sophia's eyes flickered with a momentary spark of relief when she saw the agreement, but she quickly smothered it with crocodile tears. "No, no, don't do this, sister!" Her voice cracked as she shook her head, her tone full of exaggerated despair. "I'll go. I'll marry him if that's what it takes. Please, don't fight with Mom and the boys because of me. It's my fault—I should've left the house the moment you came back if I'd known you felt this way." She spun around dramatically, her frail frame trembling with grief, and collapsed conveniently into Henry's arms. "Sophia," Henry murmured, holding her close like she was made of porcelain. He shot Odalys a glare filled with venom. "Is this what you wanted? To tear this family apart?" Odalys met his fury with icy detachment. "I'm not tearing anything apart. Just sign the damn agreement, get it notarized, and I'll go play your sacrificial lamb." Their angry, incredulous faces only fueled her inner amusement. 'Why did I waste so many years trying to please these people? Why did I beg for affection from people who wouldn't piss on me if I were on fire?' Once, she'd been their discarded daughter, tossed aside like trash while they paraded around their "replacement" — a shiny new girl they'd adopted to fill her spot. Meanwhile, Odalys had been left to fend for herself in the streets, barely surviving. If not for her mentor, she'd have been dead long ago. And yet, despite all that, she'd come back, hoping to earn their love, only to be betrayed in the cruelest way imaginable. But this time? This time, she wasn't here to beg. "You'll regret this!" Hannah's shrill voice snapped through the tension like a whip. She turned to the nearest servant and barked, "Get the lawyer. Now!" Her desperation was almost laughable—she wasn't worried about principle, only about Odalys backing out. The brothers exchanged uneasy glances but stayed silent, too afraid to challenge their mother. "Uh... yes, ma'am," the servant stammered before scurrying off. Henry stood frozen, his jaw clenched as he processed what was happening. "Mom, you're not seriously doing this, are you?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. But before he could get an answer, Sophia's soft sobs stole the spotlight. "Mom, let's not take it this far," Caspian chimed in, playing the concerned brother. "She's still family." Hannah's lips curled into a sneer, her eyes flashing with pure disdain. "This ungrateful brat thinks she can just walk away? Fine. Let her try. Without the Bennett name, let's see how far she gets in this world." The lawyer arrived moments later, looking thoroughly confused but professional as ever. Hannah shoved the document at him without hesitation, watching as it was officially notarized. Odalys took the signed agreement, her face calm and unreadable. She snapped a photo of it with her phone before slipping the papers into her bag. Without a word, she turned and walked toward the door, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. "Move," she said coolly, her voice like a blade. "You're in my way." Hannah stood frozen, her fury simmering beneath the surface. Finally, she grabbed her phone and hurled it toward Odalys's retreating figure. "You selfish little bitch! Are you trying to kill me?!" But Odalys didn't even flinch. Her voice floated up the staircase, steady and sharp. "Are those the wedding gifts from the Stewart family?" "Yes, ma'am," a servant replied hesitantly. Everyone froze, their confusion quickly morphing into curiosity as they followed her downstairs. There, Odalys stood in the entryway, surveying the piles of lavish gifts stacked neatly by the door. She pulled out her ID and handed it to the nearest servant. "Go to the bank. Open a safety deposit box and store everything there." The servant blinked, visibly stunned. "Pardon me, ma'am?" Odalys arched a brow, her lips curving into a smirk. "What's the problem? Aren't these gifts for me?" "Y-yes, ma'am," he stammered, nodding quickly. At her command, a team of guards began loading the extravagant gifts back into the trucks. The grand Bennett estate erupted into chaos as workers scrambled to carry out her orders. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Hannah screamed, her voice hoarse with rage. Chapter 2 Wedding Gifts The Stewart family—everyone knew their name. They were the pinnacle of power, dripping in wealth, and way out of anyone else's league. The wedding gifts they sent weren't just generous—they were mind-blowing. Even without counting, it was obvious they were worth billions. For a family like the Bennetts? Getting tied to the Stewarts was nothing short of a miracle. They weren't even in the same universe. But fate had handed them a golden ticket. William Bennett and Evander Stewart had once fought together, shoulder to shoulder, in life-or-death battles. Somewhere along the way, they'd sealed a promise: a marriage pact between their future children. Initially, the Bennetts planned to marry off Sophia. It was a straightforward enough plan until bad news hit. The man she was supposed to marry was at death's door, and the whispers said he didn't have much time left. No way were they going to send Sophia into a marriage that'd turn her into a widow before it even began. Luckily—or unluckily, seven months ago, the Bennetts had found their long-lost biological daughter, Odalys Stone. And just like that, they had a perfect solution: send Odalys instead. She'd secure the Bennetts' connection to the Stewarts, widow or not. Sophia would be off the hook, and the family would still come out on top. It was a win-win—at least for everyone except Odalys. "What am I doing here?" Odalys said, her voice calm but laced with a sharp edge as she glanced around. She raised an eyebrow, her smirk growing. "Well, obviously, I'm here to collect what's mine." She didn't bother hiding the amusement in her eyes. Watching the Bennetts fume while the Stewart family bodyguards loomed nearby was too satisfying. "What's wrong? Were you planning to keep it all for yourselves?" Her voice turned mockingly curious, her tone dripping with fake innocence. "Oh, wait—I get it. You're trying to screw me over because you think I'm just the backup bride, right?" Her words hit like a grenade. The bodyguards immediately paused their work, sharp eyes locking onto the Bennetts with unspoken suspicion. Hannah's face went pale, her heavily made-up features twisting in barely contained rage. She spat through gritted teeth, "If the Stewarts gave it to you, then fine. Take it. It's yours." "Damn right, it's mine." Odalys tilted her head, smirk still firmly in place. "Let's go, guys. Load it all up." The bodyguards didn't need to be told twice. They began reloading the boxes of gifts onto the waiting trucks. One of them rattled off the inventory under his breath. "Three boxes with three million dollars each. Two boxes of gold and diamond jewelry, 200 pieces total. One small box containing six property deeds for Crystal Cove villas. One small box with keys to 11 luxury cars." Sophia's fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging so hard into her palms that she almost drew blood. Those gifts were supposed to be hers. Sure, she didn't want to marry into the Stewarts, but she'd never said she didn't want the spoils. And now, she thought Odalys was walking out with everything. Every last thing. Her chest tightened with rage, her breaths coming quick and sharp. 'Why? Why does she get to take what should be mine?' "Odalys Stone, don't you have any shame?" Hannah snapped, stepping forward with a trembling hand pointing at her. Her voice cracked with the effort to keep her anger in check. "Aren't you afraid people will laugh at you? Taking all this—it's disgusting." "Laugh? At me?" Odalys turned, her expression cool, her voice calm and mocking. "For what? Taking what my husband gave me? No, Mrs. Bennett, people aren't going to laugh. They're gonna be jealous as hell." Her lips curled into a cold smile, her eyes glinting with something dangerous. "Or is it you who's jealous?" Her gaze swept across the room, pausing on each familiar face. To her surprise, she didn't feel the anger she thought she would. The Bennetts didn't deserve her rage. What she felt instead was an eerie calm. She'd been here before, in another timeline. This time, she wasn't here to please anyone. This time, she was here to cut ties, burn bridges, and take what was hers. "These gifts belong to me because the Stewarts are marrying me. You got a problem with that?" Her voice was soft but carried an unmistakable edge. Each word hit like a slap. Her eyes scanned the room, finally settling on Sophia. Slowly, deliberately, she stepped forward. Sophia froze, her eyes darting nervously to the side as she stumbled back a step. Her gaze flickered to the boxes of gifts, jealousy and frustration swirling in her tear-filled eyes. She'd never wanted this to happen. Sure, she'd agreed to let Odalys take her place in the marriage, but she hadn't agreed to give her everything. And now, Odalys was walking away with it all. The thought made her stomach churn with rage and humiliation. "Odalys, how could you do this?" Sophia's voice wavered, trembling with fake sweetness as she bit her lip, tears streaming down her face. "You're upsetting Mom. If you take everything, what will the Stewarts think of our family?" Odalys Stone chuckled coldly, her hand gripping Sophia Bennett's chin with just enough force to make the other woman flinch. Leaning in, she lowered her voice, her tone dripping with venom. "And just who the hell do you think you are? A nobody foster kid, and you've got the balls to come at me?" Her lips twisted into a smirk, her gaze sharp and mocking. "What the Stewarts think of you? That's your problem, not mine." She added with a scoff, "Jealous, huh? Pathetic little bitch." Sophia froze, her eyes wide with disbelief. The insult landed like a slap, and for a moment, she couldn't even process it. She wanted to lash out, but with the Stewarts' people watching, she bit her tongue. All she could do was stomp her foot in frustration, her chest heaving as she struggled to keep her composure. "Odalys Stone, what the fuck is your problem?" Atlas barked as he stormed forward, his expression dark. He pulled Sophia behind him protectively, glaring at Odalys like he wanted to snap her in half. Odalys raised a brow, her smirk deepening. Without a word, she turned on her heel and strode toward the door. When she reached it, she pulled a key from her pocket and flung it onto the floor. The sharp clink echoed through the room. Pausing in the doorway, she tossed a cold glance over her shoulder, her voice dripping with mockery. "And what are you gonna do about it? Or better yet, maybe she should be the one marrying instead?" The room fell into stunned silence as she walked out, her ponytail swishing in time with her confident strides. The Bennetts could only stand there, fuming, as the Stewarts' bodyguards continued hauling out the extravagant betrothal gifts without a care in the world. Hannah staggered, her face pale as she watched millions—billions—of dollars in gifts disappear. Her instincts screamed at her to do something, to stop them, but before she could act, Sophia grabbed her wrist in a panic. "Mom, don't! She's just trying to piss you off!" Sophia's voice cracked, panic lacing her words. "Once she calms down, she'll bring everything back. She's just throwing a tantrum—nothing more." But even as she said it, doubt flickered in Sophia's eyes. The truth was, everyone in Crownridge knew the situation with the Stewarts. Their patriarch was already at death's door, with the hospital issuing what was essentially a countdown to his final moments. Years ago, the Stewarts and Bennetts had been close, and the marriage was supposed to strengthen their bond. But now the Stewarts were rushing the wedding to bring some semblance of good fortune to a dying man. There wouldn't even be a ceremony. They'd sent the wedding gifts today with plans to take the bride immediately. The Bennetts, unwilling to let Sophia marry into such a grim situation, had shoved Odalys into the role instead. After all, she'd only recently been found after years of being lost and had no real connection to the family. The plan was simple: send her off, let her deal with the mess, and once the Stewart patriarch passed, bring her back. It was, in their minds, the perfect solution. Henry snorted, his tone filled with contempt. "She really thinks she can pull this shit? That's what happens when you let someone think they're equal to us. Time to remind her where she stands." Caspian leaned lazily against the wall, his lips quirking into a cruel smile. "Relax. Let her have her little moment. Once the bridegroom kicks the bucket, we'll drag her back here and teach her a lesson she won't forget. Let's see if she still thinks she's hot shit after that." But as they watched Odalys climb into the waiting car without so much as a glance back, a cold wind swept through the courtyard, sending a shiver down everyone's spine. The atmosphere shifted, the air growing heavy and unnervingly still. For the first time, an inexplicable unease settled over the Bennetts. In the backseat of the car, Odalys sat quietly, her gaze fixed on the rearview mirror. The Bennett mansion shrank in the distance, shrouded in swirling clouds that seemed to darken the skies around it. The house looked cursed, like it was being swallowed whole by its own greed and malice. A soft, bitter laugh escaped her lips as she leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes. Her mind was flooded with memories from her past life—memories that stung like open wounds. She could still feel the humiliation, the betrayal. The people she had once trusted—her own family—had stripped her bare, literally and figuratively. They'd recorded her, used the footage to blackmail her, and forced her to take Sophia's place. All for their own selfish gain, all to secure their position with the Stewarts. Chapter 3 You're Dying After her death, Odalys's soul drifted aimlessly, trapped in a limbo that felt endless. She couldn't move on, couldn't reincarnate—until an unknown, powerful force yanked her back into the living world, slamming her into a reality she wasn't sure she wanted. The memory made her fists clench tightly, her nails biting into her palms as her jaw set with cold determination. The sleek black car rolled to a stop in front of a sprawling courtyard mansion, its grandeur weighed down by an eerie stillness. The house seemed more like a relic than a home, its walls steeped in secrets and shadows. "Madam, Mr. Stewart is waiting for you upstairs," the butler, Dorian Huxley, said as he stepped aside, gesturing politely for her to follow. His tone was calm and measured, but it carried a quiet urgency. Odalys didn't respond. She stepped out of the car and into the courtyard, the oppressive silence pressing down on her like a physical weight. As she crossed the threshold, her gaze swept over the carefully arranged antiques in the living room—each piece meticulous, imposing, and completely lifeless. Her heels clicked against the polished wood floor as she climbed the stairs, each step reverberating in the stillness. At the top, she paused. A tall figure stood inside the room, his back to her, framed by sunlight filtering through the window. The light scattered across his broad shoulders, softening the harsh lines of his frame. She couldn't see his face, but his presence was unmistakable—commanding, unyielding, and suffocating. "You're Percival Stewart?" she asked, her voice steady, but low and cautious. The man turned slowly, deliberately. His eyes met hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to freeze. Those eyes were cold, bottomless, and completely detached, like looking into a frozen void. He held her gaze for a beat longer than necessary before shifting his eyes away, the indifference in his expression sharp enough to cut. The silence stretched between them, heavy and tense, before he finally spoke. "This marriage? It's just my grandfather's dying wish," he said, his voice deep and rough, every word laced with disdain. "Don't waste your time thinking it means anything. There won't be a ceremony, no legal documents, nothing. Once I'm gone, you're free to leave." The bluntness of his words caught her off guard, but she didn't flinch. She just stared at him, taking in the man who had been a shadow in the past. In truth, she knew next to nothing about Percival Stewart. Before her time travel, she had died before the marriage ever happened. All she'd heard was that he was twenty-eight, the head of the Stewart family, and dying from some incurable illness. Beyond that, he was a mystery—a figure hidden behind the impenetrable walls of the Stewart dynasty. He was like an invisible king, ruling from the shadows, unchallenged but utterly alone. Before she could respond, a harsh, violent cough broke the silence. Percival's tall frame trembled slightly, and the sharp, metallic tang of blood filled the air, cutting through the faint scent of scented candle burning in the corner. "Mrs. Stewart, perhaps it's best if you retire to your room," Dorian said, stepping forward quickly. His voice was polite, but the urgency in his movements was impossible to miss. Odalys didn't move. Her sharp gaze stayed locked on Percival, ignoring the butler entirely. She took a step forward, her eyes narrowing as the scent of blood grew stronger. It wasn't just a hint—it was thick, suffocating, and impossible to ignore. Percival felt her approach and shot her a warning glare, his expression hardening. "Go back to your room," he said, his voice rough and authoritative. He turned abruptly, his steps hurried and uneven as if trying to escape her scrutiny. But just as he moved past her, Odalys reached out and grabbed his arm. He froze instantly, his body tensing under her touch. He made a move to pull away, but she was faster. Twisting her grip, she held him in place, then reached up and grabbed his collar without hesitation. The sound of fabric tearing cut through the room like a slap. Percival's shirt split open, revealing a chest sculpted like stone, his bronze skin catching the fractured sunlight pouring in from the window. The room fell silent. Even the air seemed to hold its breath. Dorian stood frozen, his jaw slack with shock, his gaze darting between his mentor and the woman who had just ripped his shirt like it was nothing. No one saw it coming. Odalys, without hesitation, tore open Percival's shirt with a single, fluid motion. No one had ever dared to get this close to him before—let alone touch him. The speed and boldness of her actions left everyone in the room frozen, mouths agape. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Percival growled, his hand shooting up to clamp around her wrist with an iron grip. Her wrist was locked in his grasp, but Odalys didn't so much as flinch. Her eyes stayed locked on his chest, unblinking, studying his skin with laser focus. Beneath the smooth surface, something was moving—twitching, writhing, almost alive. It looked ready to tear through at any second. His veins bulged unnaturally, pushing against his flesh as though ready to explode. The air grew thick, the metallic tang of blood sharp enough to taste. Percival's body was a battleground, wracked with excruciating pain. It felt like shards of glass were tearing through him, breaking him apart piece by piece. His skin stretched taut, veins pulsating beneath it as if threatening to burst, and every nerve in his body screamed for relief. "Shit," he hissed through gritted teeth, sweat dripping down his temples. His face had gone pale, his jaw tight as he tried to suppress the pain. With great effort, he turned his icy glare on Dorian, who was frozen in the doorway, and the bodyguards lingering nearby, too stunned to move. "Take her back to her room," he ordered, his voice rough but unwavering despite the agony gripping him. "Yes, sir!" Dorian stammered, snapping into action and rushing toward Odalys, his face pale with fear. But before Dorian could reach her, Odalys made her move. She ignored the butler completely, her free hand lifting to press lightly against Percival's chest. The touch was almost playful, her fingertips tracing slow, deliberate patterns on his skin. Then, without warning, she shoved—hard. Percival froze, his entire body locking up. The moment her hand made contact, it sent a shockwave through him, like a current of electricity surging through his veins. The chaos beneath his skin—veins ready to rupture, blood cells fighting a violent war—suddenly stilled. The energy that had been raging inside him recoiled, like a storm abruptly silenced. His blood, moments away from tearing through his flesh, began to reverse its course. Thickened, frozen, and pushed back as though retreating from an unseen force. His heart seized painfully in his chest. "Ugh!" The sound ripped from his throat as dark blood spewed from his lips, splattering onto the floor. The black, foul-smelling liquid dripped from the corner of his mouth, its acrid stench filling the room. He staggered back a step, his pupils blown wide, his body trembling like it was ready to break apart. And then, suddenly, everything stopped. The agony gripping him moments ago faded to a dull ache. The sharp, relentless pressure vanished. His breathing steadied, his chest no longer heaving in pain. Slowly, cautiously, he glanced down at his body, expecting to see the usual horrors: split skin, torn veins, blood pouring from open wounds. But his skin was intact. No ruptures. No shredded flesh. No rivers of blood pooling at his feet. Aside from the dark blood he'd coughed up, he was fine. Whole. The pain, the chaos, the destruction that had always followed these episodes—it was gone. Percival's eyes snapped back to Odalys, shock flickering across his normally stoic face. She stepped back, her hand falling away as she regarded him with a calm, almost clinical detachment. Her gaze swept over him like she was piecing together a puzzle. "So the rumors are true," she said, her tone flat and disinterested. "You really are knocking on death's door." As she spoke, she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and began wiping her fingers clean. "But since you already made it clear this marriage is just your grandfather's idea to 'ward off bad luck,' and you don't actually want to marry me, that works out perfectly. I wasn't planning on getting married anyway." She tilted her head slightly, her eyes sharp and calculating as they locked onto his. "Let me guess. Your doctors told you you've got less than a month to live, didn't they?" His lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn't deny it. Odalys smirked faintly, the corner of her mouth curving upward in a way that was both confident and infuriating. "So, here's the deal. I'll keep you alive for the next month. In return, you let me walk away when it's over. No strings attached." Percival's eyes narrowed, suspicion mingling with disbelief. "You're saying you can keep me alive for a month?" "That's exactly what I'm saying," she replied, her tone as steady as her gaze. She stepped closer, reaching out again. This time, her fingers brushed against the corner of his mouth, wiping away the blood that still lingered there. She brought her fingers to her nose, sniffing lightly before speaking again. "You're not dying as fast as they think. You're poisoned—badly—but it's not terminal yet. I can stabilize you. Give you some time." With that, she wiped her fingers clean on the handkerchief and tossed it into a nearby trash can, her movements smooth and deliberate. She met his gaze again, her expression unreadable but unshakable. "Clock's ticking, Stewart. Your move." ---------------------- There are limited chapters to put here, click “learn more” to open App to continue reading (It will automatically jump to the book) | Read Web Stories | 76 | https://www.facebook.com/61563228761758/ | 0 | LEARN_MORE | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 2681478 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 6/10/25, 4:03 AM | 1738828443 | 1749546232 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | VIDEO | Read next chapter | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/67687322-fb_contact-ena255_2-0124-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=157725&accid=7929461117168105&exdata=C53DCDAE4F2816FF1D9786D15D45988D238EE0A7F1A9D474 | 3.7558525564194E+14 | Fun Novels | https://scontent.fagc3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475839359_1798902070873345_8311611680703254765_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=pUa39vwRkLsQ7kNvgG3fYh2&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-2.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYDN0nEMSCLyFCCUhRPN2WAjcKo2-iLuF0aVqCcgqRrRgA&oe=67AA4367 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | After two crazy years, she decided to let go and return him to his first love. But he refused to let her go. "Don't leave me. Tomorrow's engagement is with you!" ===== The winters in Ulares were bone-chilling, but inside Cloudscape Mansion, the air was thick with warmth and passion. "Uncle Ethan…" Nyla Green gasped, her voice catching. Ethan's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk. "Being so well-behaved tonight, aren't you?" "Don't you like it when I'm well-behaved?" The hunger in Ethan's eyes was undeniable. "What is it you want?" Settling into the armchair by the window, he asked, his mood seemingly lighter than usual. "Will you give me anything I ask for?" Nyla's voice was soft, hesitant, her hopeful gaze fixed on his sharp, handsome face. "Depends on what it is," Ethan replied evenly. "I want to be Mrs. Brooks." The warmth in Ethan's expression disappeared, replaced by a glacial stare that sent a chill down her spine. Nyla's heart sank as he let out a mocking laugh. "I've been too soft on you," he said coldly. "You think that gives you the right to ask for something like that?" Nyla bit her lip, "Callie's back, isn't she? You're planning to marry her, aren't you?" Callie Higgins--the name itself was enough to twist Nyla's gut. She was Ethan's first love--the woman who had once saved his life from kidnappers when he was eighteen. After the incident, their families agreed that Ethan and Callie would get engaged when the time was right. Ethan's expression flickered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Nyla to know she'd struck a nerve. She'd been with him for two years; she knew him well. "I just want a status. You know how hard it is for me in the Brooks family. Without protection, I--" "Protection?" Ethan cut her off, his tone sharp. In a flash, he was in front of her, gripping her chin firmly. His dark eyes bored into hers, fierce and unyielding. "Do you think I don't see through you, Nyla? You think you're worthy of being Mrs. Brooks?" Chapter 2 Time To Let Go "Ethan Brooks, you haven't changed a bit--still as cold-hearted as ever," Nyla snapped. The warm atmosphere had long since turned to ice. Nyla's expression was calm, though her intentions were anything but hidden. Tears glimmered in her defiant eyes. "If you're not willing to give me what I want, then this is it. From today, we're done. Beyond being my step-uncle, you have nothing to do with me anymore." Ethan's sneer was sharp, cutting through the tension like a bl*de. "You're the one who climbed into my b*d back then. And now you want to walk away? Nyla, do you really think I'm that easy to deal with?" It had been a while since the Green family's sudden collapse. Overnight, Nyla's world unraveled. Her father, Lorenzo Green, took his own life to prove his innocence, and her brother was thrown behind bars. Her mother, desperate to survive, became the mi**ress of Ethan's elder brother, Ryland Brooks. When Ryland's wife passed away, Nyla's mother--pregnant with Ryland's child--married him. The Brooks family made no secret of their disdain. Nyla had always known her place, keeping her distance from the Brooks family whenever possible. But they never intended to stop tormenting her. Out of options, she had turned to Ethan. As the current leader of the Brooks family and one of the most powerful men in Ulares, Ethan was the only one who could offer her protection. "So, what do we call this... arrangement?" Her voice was low, almost mocking. Ethan's gaze lingered on her face--dangerously beautiful, the kind that brought chaos wherever it went. "If you want something else, I might consider it," he said, his tone indifferent as he released her. The implication was clear: he wasn't letting go, not yet. Bitterness rose in Nyla's throat. She could endure being his b*dmates, but she wouldn't let herself become the other woman. That was one boundary she refused to cross. "Ethan, I'm tired. This... whatever it is, it's over." The word "over" felt hollow--Ethan had never acknowledged what they had in the first place. She pulled her torn dress over her body, her hands trembling but her resolve firm. Ethan's expression darkened. "What are you trying to prove with this tantrum?" Nyla paused, holding herself together with every ounce of willpower. She stood tall, meeting his gaze. "Mr. Brooks, if you can't give me what I want, then let's not waste any more time. I need to move on." Her words struck a nerve. Ethan grabbed her arm, "Move on? To who?" His voice dripped with menace. "Who else could ever satisfy you like I do? Don't act like this was all some mistake. You crawled into my b*d, Nyla. Don't think I'll let you forget that." Nyla's composure cracked as anger flared in her chest. She glared at him, tears brimming. "So what if I did? I regret it! You're going to marry Callie, and I'm supposed to sit here and wait for your scraps? I may be shameless, Ethan, but I'm not that pathetic." The air between them was suffocating, heavy with unspoken truths and unbearable tension. A sudden ring shattered the silence. Ethan glanced at his phone, irritation flickering across his face. He was about to ignore the call until he saw the name. Callie. He released Nyla and answered without hesitation. Nyla watched in silence, her heart sinking at his gentle tone. He'd only ever used it with her in b*d. She felt the humiliation settle deep in her ch*st. "I'll be there soon." Ethan finished the called and then dressed. He turned to Nyla. "I'll have Jackson transfer the money to your account. Don't even think about leaving." The door clicked shut behind him. Nyla sat still, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, with a bitter laugh, she wiped her tears away. If she couldn't have what she wanted, then she'd take back what little was left of her dignity. It was time to let go. Chapter 3 So What If I Am? Nyla, now in her senior year of college, had already begun her internship while managing her own studio--a venture she had started during her junior year. She specialized in fashion design, and her studio was her pride and joy. But lately, the pressure from competitors had been relentless. Someone clearly wanted her out of Ulares. Despite the frustration, Nyla refused to back down. After a restless night, her body ached as she got ready for the day. She couldn't bring herself to wear her usual professional attire, opting instead for a casual outfit. Even in simple clothes, her elegance and charisma turned heads wherever she went. As she walked into the studio, her receptionist hesitated before approaching her. "Miss Green... um, your mother is here," she said nervously. "We tried to stop her, but... she's holding a baby, and we didn't want to risk anything." Nyla gave her a reassuring smile. Her mother, Vicki Brooks, was difficult to deal with. "It's fine. I understand. You can get back to work." Relieved, the receptionist nodded and returned to her desk. Nyla's studio wasn't large, but every inch of it reflected her touch. She had designed the interior herself, favoring a minimalist elegance that radiated sophistication. In the lounge area, she spotted her mother cradling a baby in her arms. Nolan Brooks, a premature baby, had come into the world when Vicki was in her forties. His arrival had nearly cost both their lives, and since then, Vicki's world revolved entirely around him. Standing silently in the doorway, Nyla observed her mother. Vicki's expression softened as she gently rocked Nolan, her maternal warmth unmistakable. For a fleeting moment, Nyla saw the woman Vicki used to be--a gentle, understanding wife and mother, back when the Green family was intact. But that version of her mother was gone. Now, Vicki was only a mother to Nolan. The thought stung, but Nyla pushed the feeling aside and walked into the lounge. She sat across from Vicki, who glanced up briefly before returning her attention to Nolan. Nyla's assistant quickly brought over a cup of coffee and slipped away without a word. Picking up the cup, Nyla stirred it slowly, the clinking of the spoon breaking the silence. "Why are you here?" she asked, her tone even. Vicki's gaze flickered disapprovingly over Nyla's casual outfit. "You're going out dressed like that? Don't you realize you're representing the Brooks family now? Everything you do reflects on us." Leaning back on the sofa, Nyla replied with a calm, measured voice, "My last name is Green. I've never been part of the Brooks family." Vicki's lips tightened, her frustration evident. "You--" She stopped herself, glancing down at Nolan, who stirred in her arms. Lowering her voice, she continued, "Ryland has arranged a date for you tomorrow at Delight Restaurant. You'll be meeting the second son of the Fowler family. He's from a respectable background, and it's time you start thinking about your future." Nyla raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. The second son of the Fowler family had recently been released from prison. Ryland certainly had a knack for picking matches. "I don't have time," Nyla replied dismissively, taking a sip of her coffee. Vicki's composure cracked. "No time? You didn't go to school or your studio yesterday. And you didn't come home last night either. I heard you were at a bar." She had done her homework. Nyla's late-night escapades and partying were the reason Vicki had stormed over. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. If it weren't for Nolan dozing off in her arms, she'd have already started yelling. Then Vicki's sharp eyes zeroed in on a faint red m*rk on Nyla's neck. Her expression darkened. "What's that on your neck?" she hissed. "I'm warning you, Nyla. If you're fooling around, I won't tolerate it!" Nyla paused mid-sip, setting her cup down deliberately. She met Vicki's glare with calm indifference. Her mother still looked youthful despite her age. Money sure did wonders, Nyla mused. "And what if I am?" she said, leaning back. "You haven't cared about me in years, so why pretend now? Take your precious son and leave." Chapter 4 Family Dinner "Nyla!" Vicki shot to her feet, her sudden movement jolting Nolan awake in her arms. The baby let out a wail that pierced through the studio. "It's okay, Nolan. Shh, you're okay," Vicki murmured, turning her attention to him and pointedly ignoring Nyla. "We'll go home soon, sweetheart. Be good for Mommy." Nyla rubbed her ears, the irony of the scene grating on her nerves. Without a word, she turned to leave. "Don't forget." Vicki's strained voice rang out behind her. "I've always been the one begging for help for your brother. Do you have any idea how much he's suffered in prison? And your sister-in-law? I've been the one sending her money to survive. If you had even a shred of consideration for me, you'd listen to what I say!" Nyla froze mid-step, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling as a wave of helplessness rolled over her. After the incident all those years ago, her brother had been jailed, and her pregnant sister-in-law had been so traumatized she ended up hospitalized. The baby--already five months along--couldn't be saved, and her sister-in-law's health had never recovered. The family sold everything they owned, borrowed from anyone who'd listen, and still came up short. Eventually, their options ran dry, and even close relatives cut ties. Nyla's sister-in-law finally gave up, saying she didn't want to be a burden. Vicki's marriage into the wealthy Brooks family had brought temporary relief, but her sister-in-law's lingering illness had turned into a lifelong battle--one that drained both money and hope. And Vicki, to her credit, had been the one subsidizing the expensive treatments. Nyla's fingers curled and relaxed along the edge of her sleeve--a quiet gesture of powerless compromise. "Fine. I'll go." Vicki let out a relieved sigh, her tone softening. "There's a family dinner at the Brooks Mansion tonight. Leave work early and make sure you're there. You can't miss it." Nyla felt an immediate headache brewing. She'd planned to avoid Ethan for at least a little while longer, but her plans were thwarted before they'd even begun. "I know you hate going to these things, but think about me. Think about your little brother. He's just a child, Nyla. If you don't look out for him, who will? Please, just do this for me." Vicki's words left no room for refusal. Nyla was at a loss for words. Her mother asked her to protect Nolan, but who would protect her? The Brooks family wore their civility like sheep's clothing, but beneath it, she knew better. They were wolves--every single one of them--and none would spare her if given the chance. And yet, Nyla never voiced these grievances to Vicki. It would only be pointless. Vicki would call her immature, blame her for the Brooks family's hostility, insist that Nyla brought it all upon herself. So Nyla could only swallow her resentment. Later that afternoon, Nyla left work early as instructed. She took her time getting home and changed clothes, knowing Vicki would nitpick if she didn't look the part. She settled on a gray, short tweed jacket over a black skirt--poised, polished, and appropriately elegant. Nyla despised the cold. If it weren't for the Brooks family gathering, she would have bundled herself in two down jackets and called it a day. These social charades were a performance she loathed--hollow and suffocating. But Vicki insisted she need to integrate. Half an hour later, Nyla stepped out of the taxi in front of the imposing Brooks Mansion. Just as she turned to head inside, a sleek Maybach pulled up beside her. Nyla didn't intend to acknowledge anyone--until the license plate caught her eye. Ethan's car. The tinted window rolled down slowly, and two faces came into view--elegant, pristine, and altogether too perfect. "Hello, Nyla." A woman's voice broke the moment. "I'm Callie." Chapter 5 Rivals In Love Nyla had imagined meeting Callie in countless scenarios. Maybe it would happen during one of those stolen moments with Ethan, where they'd be caught red-handed. Or perhaps at Callie and Ethan's engagement party, where Nyla would dutifully offer her congratulations as a younger member of the Brooks family. But never like this--never with Callie deliberately approaching her. Nyla glanced at Ethan, suspicious. Was he behind this? But Ethan's gaze remained locked on her, his dark eyes betraying nothing. Those eyes had a way of pulling people in. She quickly looked away, her voice cold. "Hello. Did you need something?" Nyla didn't like the Brooks family, and she liked Callie even less. Callie was, after all, a rival in love. "Oh, nothing at all. I'd just heard Ethan had a breathtakingly beautiful niece, and I couldn't resist coming to meet you. I hope that's all right," Callie replied, her voice soft and syrupy, the kind of tone that made others instinctively want to protect her, a stark contrast to Nyla's cool tone. "You're exaggerating. I'm just an ordinary person." An ordinary person who was all too easy to manipulate. The moment the words left her mouth, Nyla felt Ethan's gaze on her--sharp, teasing. She met his eyes, her expression frosty, but he didn't look away. Instead, his lips parted, and his cool voice cut through the air. "Let's go. Don't waste time on people who don't matter." Callie offered an apologetic smile. "We'll head in, then. Would you like to join us? It's a bit of a walk." The words "people who don't matter" stung more than Nyla cared to admit. Last night, Ethan had been so close--so possessive he wouldn't let her leave--and now he was acting like a stranger. Huh. If Ethan chose acting as his career, he would win the Best Actor award, and Nyla would gladly be the one throwing tomatoes at his acceptance speech. Plastering on a bitter smile, she replied, "No thanks. I don't feel comfortable riding in a stranger's car." Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away. Behind her, the sleek Maybach sped off, its icy wind brushing her cheeks and nearly drawing tears from her eyes. But she refused to cry--not here, not at the Brooks family estate. The sprawling Brooks Mansion loomed ahead, its gardens and private villas spread across more than seven thousand square feet. It was the largest private residence in Ulares and an unyielding symbol of the Brooks family's influence. The family dinner was held in the main house of the estate, and by the time Nyla arrived, the room was already packed. Her eyes immediately found Ethan, standing beside Callie, who was chatting amicably with the wife of Ethan's second brother. They looked disturbingly at ease with one another. "Why are you so late? Didn't I tell you to leave work early?" The voice belonged to Vicki, who appeared beside Nyla in a black gown and white mink shawl, exuding effortless grace. Nyla forced a smile, though she detested the way Vicki had shed her real self to fit into the Brooks family mold. "It's a long drive. Besides, I'm here now, aren't I?" Her eyes roved over the crowd. Faces turned her way, some barely hiding their disdain. "Honestly, we shouldn't have bothered coming." Vicki tightened her grip on Nyla's hand, her voice dropping to a whisper. "If you listened to Ryland and made connections with the Fowler family, we wouldn't be in this position." Nyla's tone sharpened. "If you're in such a rush, feel free to go see my blind date yourself." "Don't be ridiculous!" Vicki hissed, glancing around nervously. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene here. "Then stop nagging me," Nyla retorted. "Unless you want me to make a real fuss." Vicki bit back her frustration, unwilling to press further. Nyla slipped away and found an empty corner, determined to stay invisible until the endless family dinner wrapped up. But, of course, the peace didn't last. "Nyla, why are you sitting here all by yourself? Are you feeling out of place?" Callie's sugary voice rang in her ear. "I can show you around if you'd like." Chapter 6 Definition Of Decorum "Thank you, I appreciate your concern, Miss Higgins, but that won't be necessary." Nyla blinked leisurely, suppressing a yawn. The previous night had been relentless and exhausting, and as she sat in the quiet corner, weary and disinterested, she had thought no one would disturb her. Unexpectedly, Callie had come over, initiating conversation. As Nyla observed the gentle expression on Callie's face, a sardonic grin took root in her thoughts. She now understood Ethan's distaste for her; he evidently preferred someone more like Callie. "Leave her be, Callie. That woman is nothing but trouble. Who knows who she'll charm next? You're too good for her." These words came from Stella Brooks, the daughter of Ethan's second brother. Nyla turned toward Stella, her expression teasingly challenging. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I should seek out Lukas for an enlightening chat in his bedroom. He'd probably appreciate it. And perhaps tomorrow I'll drop by Austen's place--I still know how to get in." Lukas Brooks, Stella's younger brother, had been captivated by Nyla from the start, wanting nothing more than to stay by her side. His family, convinced of Nyla's manipulative charm, met her with cold disdain. Consequently, Lukas found himself transferred to a distant boarding school. Austen Mitchell, the focus of Stella's unrequited affections, had grown up next door to Nyla. Their families were intertwined, and he always saw Nyla as kin, a fact unknown to many. This was the root of Stella's vehement animosity toward Nyla. Originally, Nyla endured her insults, but Stella's escalation to physical threats forced Nyla to retaliate. "Shame on you!" Stella seethed, her cheeks burning. "Don't think for a moment you belong in the Brooks household just because you share our roof! You're no better than your mother. It's clear now why your family crumbled--you thrive on being a shameless intruder!" Shadows flickered in Nyla's eyes, her fist tightening inside her sleeve, though her expression remained calm. "Has Austen actually accepted your advances? You seem to be the one relentlessly pursuing him. He freely opens his door to me. Can you say the same? Your efforts seem futile. He shows no interest in you." Stella's eyes welled up, her hand lifted for a slap, but Callie intervened just in time. "Stella, that was uncalled for. Why would you say such things?" Callie's voice carried the weight of a mentor scolding a student. Flushed and tearful, Stella bit her tongue following Callie's sharp scolding. With a restrained smile but firm voice, Callie maintained her composed aristocratic air. "You're under the Brooks' roof now, Nyla. It's high time to leave your old ways behind. We expect decorum in a family of the Brooks family's standing." Nyla noted Callie's attempt to shame her and wondered about her motives. Her secret with Ethan was safe. What was driving Callie's hostility? Was it just a personal dislike? Nyla's lethargy vanished, replaced by simmering annoyance. "Stella called me a shameless intruder and hurled insults, yet you don't accuse her of indecorum. I merely stated some facts, less harshly than her, and yet here you are, Miss Higgins, accusing me of impropriety." Nyla's voice was measured as she locked eyes with Callie, her laughter tinged with scorn. "So, this is your definition of decorum, Miss Higgins? Your upbringing must indeed be exemplary." Chapter 7 Lecture Me On Callie's Behalf? Callie's expression shifted, her eyes softening with a tinge of apology. "I didn't mean it like that," she said gently. "I just thought… it might help you to fit in better with the Brooks family." Nyla's gaze swept over the two women in front of her. Stella still looked like she was ready to tear her apart, while Callie's carefully composed friendliness had started to crumble. Suddenly, the family dinner didn't seem so dull after all. One person warned her not to dream too big about the Brooks family, and the other subtly reminded her of her place as an outsider. How delightfully amusing. "And what does that have to do with you, Miss Higgins?" Nyla asked, standing abruptly. A sly smile curved her lips as she added, "Stella does have a point, though. Who knows who I'll charm next? Maybe one day… Ethan will end up in my b*d too. Instead of worrying about me, Miss Higgins, you might want to keep an eye on yourself." The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Without waiting for a response, Nyla turned and strode toward the garden. "You b**ch! How dare you even think about Uncle Ethan!" Stella's shrill voice pierced the air. "Callie, see? She doesn't deserve your kindness. She's shameless!" Callie's eyes lingered on Nyla's retreating figure, all pretense of kindness gone. Her voice was cold and measured. "Just an outsider. Does she really think the Brooks family will protect her? Let's see how long she lasts." The garden, though chilled by the winter air, offered a quiet sanctuary to Nyla. Dinner still hadn't been served--Roger Brooks, Ethan's father, hadn't arrived yet. Nyla was grateful she wasn't particularly hungry. Otherwise, she might have had an outright clash with Vicki and left. Most of the flowers had withered, leaving the once vibrant landscape barren and forlorn. She studied the decayed flowers, finding an odd comfort in their desolation. Settling onto a swing tucked in the corner of the garden, Nyla pushed herself back and forth lightly, lost in thought. The Ethan situation was spiraling. If things ended between them now, her carefully laid plans would collapse. When she first approached Ethan, she'd told herself it was all calculated--a means to an end. But somewhere along the way, her emotions had betrayed her. She'd been starved of love for so long that the taste of it--however fleeting--had made her greedy. She didn't want to let him go. "Do you think you can hide out here after stirring trouble?" Ethan's voice cut through the stillness, sharp yet calm. "Do you think the Brooks family is that forgiving?" Nyla froze for a second before resuming her lazy swaying. The light from the house spilled onto her figure, casting her in an ethereal glow that made her seem almost otherworldly--a delicate flower in a crumbling garden. She tilted her head slightly, her hair spilling across her chest, and smiled faintly. "So, are you here to lecture me on your future fiancée's behalf?" Her eyes, glimmering with playful defiance, locked onto his. Ethan hated and loved those eyes--the mischievous glint that made her look like a sly little fox, always drawing him closer. "You're getting bolder." "If that's your reason, you can save your breath," Nyla retorted, bitterness threading her words. "I won't apologize. And you don't have to remind me of my place either. Whether the Brooks family hates me or not is none of your concern. After all, I'm just… insignificant, right?" Ethan's expression darkened instantly. He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her down onto his lap as sat on the swing, its frame gr*aning under their combined weight. "Have you already forgotten who was in my b*d yesterday, pleasing me?" Nyla's eyes widened as she struggled against him, "Let go of me! Ethan, this is the Brooks Mansion. Someone will see!" ...... What happens next? 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| 2681472 | 1 | active | 2/6/25, 1:54 AM | 5/2/25, 9:13 AM | 1738828443 | 1746195209 | 2478 | fbweb.moboreader.net | Learn more | VIDEO | Read next chapter | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65237322-fb_contact-enj94_2-1207-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=157725&accid=304554039400649&exdata=1900C7F110003453A459A8D2069E5C38EBD9F3662091F7FE | 3.7558525564194E+14 | Fun Novels | https://scontent.fagc3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/475950231_1140659504257971_5334551333214324229_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=N1IzQFqK-owQ7kNvgFiVvYB&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent.fagc3-1.fna&_nc_gid=Ac1LLVmLck1_dWCo3F7tWBW&oh=00_AYBpwrNkxPufq9Fi7smeRAsCIO2RIOYhX3ezkdArJVdxUQ&oe=67AA2101 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | The family was happy that the real daughter had returned. As she prepared to leave, the real daughter accused her of copying her designs. Everyone expected her to be humiliated, but unexpectedly, she stunned everyone by revealing her ownership of billion-dollar design patents, striking back and turning the tables. ===== "Take this for your journey. You're set on returning to your original family, and I won't hold you back. It is just that the place you're headed is impoverished and I doubt anyone will even be there to greet you..." Liam Gill, whom Harlee Sanderson had addressed as dad for years, pressed a few hundred-dollar bills into her hand. Downstairs at the Gill family villa, a spirited celebration filled the hall, while upstairs, Harlee quietly folded her clothes into her suitcase. Liam sighed. Just three days earlier, Adelina Gill had shown up holding a DNA report, proving she was his biological daughter. The revelation had sent the entire Gill family into turmoil. Follow-up tests had confirmed that Harlee, the girl who'd been part of their family for years, was not related to them by bl**d. Now that Adelina had returned, the Gills poured all their affection on her, making up for lost time. They treated her like a treasure, eager to erase the suffering she'd endured over the years. Meanwhile, Harlee's last name had been changed that very night. Liam quickly dispatched people to the countryside to locate her real parents. So far, there had been no replies. Today was all about Adelina. The festivities focused on welcoming her as the genuine daughter of the Gill family. "You have such soft skin, and these clothes have been selected with care..." Liam said softly, feeling mixed emotions as he helped Harlee sort through her wardrobe. "You should take these outfits. They're high quality. But when you go back to the countryside, I suppose..." According to the hospital, Harlee's biological parents had visited Adenarora when she was born. They left the next day and returned to their small village. To make matters worse, her parents lived in Osemery's notorious slums, a place infamous for its poverty and crime, where people were often unfriendly and violence was common. Liam surmised Harlee's future there didn't look bright. She wouldn't just lose the luxury she was used to. It seemed, soon enough, she'd be given in marriage to some country bumpkin without any say in the matter. Harlee looked at the cash Liam had pressed into her hand with a blank face. She set the money down on the bedside table. "I'm heading out now." After saying this, Harlee grabbed her suitcase and walked past the people loitering in the hallway. She moved on without glancing back. Averie Gill, Liam's wife, frowned with disdain. "What's with that attitude? Is she upset because it's not enough money for her? For God's sake, we've spent so much on her over the years, especially those beautiful, pricey clothes! How dare she act this way now? Humph! Once she walks out that door, the future ahead of her is nothing but dismal." "Mom, please don't take Harlee's attitude personally. It's only normal for her to be upset about losing her comfortable life abruptly. She's just throwing a little fit. There's no need to be mad at her," Adelina said softly, her tone filled with feigned concern. Adelina knew a bit about Harlee's background after the investigation. Harlee's biological parents were the poorest in the village with their family grave being defaced yet lacking money to fix it. Worse, Harlee's biological parents had five hungry sons, with a sick mother and a disabled father to care for. Harlee wasn't just returning to a rundown area. It was more like a nightmare. Adelina smiled gently, masking her glee. "I'll go say goodbye to Harlee." Once Harlee was out of sight, Liam let out a sigh and turned to Averie. "We raised her. She's leaving everything she's ever known. Don't be too harsh on her." "Harsh? Come on!" Averie shot back. "Her worthless parents might have switched babies on purpose to make our precious daughter suffer. Just thinking about it makes my blood boil. How could I possibly feel sorry for Harlee?" Harlee took the side exit, trying to steer clear of the banquet hall altogether. Adelina caught up with her, wearing a sugary smile. "Harlee, I really need to apologize about my thing with Collin. I know you were supposed to marry him, but he just fell head over heels for me." It felt less like an apology and more like a brag. Collin George came from a powerful family that matched the Gills. He had been engaged to Harlee, but now, with everything that had happened, the future bride had changed. "Collin has always been so sweet and caring. Honestly, I hate to flaunt our love in front of you, but he can't help it. Harlee, I hope this hasn't upset you too much," Adelina said, feigning concern. Harlee raised her eyebrows, wearing an indifferent smile. "Watching two f*ols date is hilarious. Why would I be upset?" Chapter 2 The Kind Real Daughter And The Vicious Fake One "Harlee!" Adelina shouted, her face bright red with anger. Harlee had just insulted her and Collin. Such audacity! Harlee's grin widened. "You and Collin are just perfect together. One kicks people when they're down, and the other follows the money." Adelina had just returned to the Gill family for only three days, and Collin appeared to be already smitten. Harlee found it all hilarious. Just as Adelina was about to lose her temper and hurl insults at Harlee, she noticed Averie coming down the stairs. In an instant, Adelina pressed her lips together, tears threatening to spill from her eyes as she adopted a pitiful expression. She quickly wiped away her fake tears. Averie took in the scene, her anger boiling over. She hurried over and yelled, "Harlee, it's unsurprising that your biological parents are impoverished rustic individuals. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Your lack of manners is quite apparent! You couldn't leave without taking one last jab at Adelina? Should I just throw you out?" "No manners? Maybe it's because that's the way you raised me," Harlee shot back, her smile dripping with sarcasm. Harlee had never met her real parents. When Averie claimed that Harlee lacked manners after so many years of living with the Gills, she was actually insulting the Gill family. Averie had never seen Harlee so sharp-tongued before. She pressed her hand to her chest, as if she might faint from anger. Adelina's eyes turned red, her face showing feigned concern. "Harlee, I understand you're upset. Though you are no longer part of the Gill family, I found you a job in the countryside. If you work hard, you can support yourself." Adelina held up a recommendation letter, which Harlee glanced at. It was for a cleaning job at a motel in a small town. Adelina attempted to place the letter in Harlee's hands but accidentally knocked Harlee's bag to the floor, sending a small sketchbook tumbling out. The guests in the banquet hall spotted it, their eyes growing wide with disbelief. Everyone knew Adelina had recently been celebrated as a genius in fashion design. She always carried her sketchbook with her. Soon, she would become the creative director at the Gill family's fashion company. Adelina's face twisted in mock shock as she covered her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes. "Harlee, why do you have my sketchbook in your bag?" Harlee frowned, feeling annoyed. Once again, Adelina had set her up. "How could you steal Adelina's design sketches?" Averie's expression darkened, and she raised her voice at Harlee. "You cold-hearted thief! Were you trying to rob Adelina of her future? With those designs, you could get into any fashion company! You really have some nerve. You're just a thankless snake!" At the commotion, Liam frowned and walked over. "What's going on here?" Adelina's eyes filled with tears. "Mom, dad, please don't hold it against Harlee. She must have been reluctant to leave the Gill family and therefore did something desperate. It's fine. I can always come up with new designs." "Those designs are essential for you to take over as director! Our family depends on them, too! Harlee stealing them isn't just hurting you. She's putting our whole family at risk. She's just heartless. Stop trying to defend her!" Averie snapped, her voice dripping with anger. "Mom, I'm sure Harlee didn't mean to do it..." Adelina tugged at Averie's sleeve, her voice sounding calm and compassionate. Adelina then turned to Harlee. "Harlee, I know you're afraid of having nothing once you leave the Gill family, but I can't let you keep these sketches. Yet, I will help you get a job at a clothing factory in your hometown. Please work hard and no more thieving. Just stop these sneaky tricks, okay?" The bystanders couldn't help but watch the scene unfold, each of them praising Adelina. "Adelina is simply amazing. She's not only gifted in design but also incredibly magnanimous. She's a true Gill all the way." "What's the use of stealing Adelina's sketches? Does Harlee even know how to design? She's just trying to grab what doesn't belong to her. How could she stoop to this low?" "Everyone knows how much Adelina values her designs. Even with her future at stake, she still defends Harlee. Adelina is way too kind, while Harlee is just vicious!" Amid the guests' praises, Adelina raised her head, looking gentle and virtuous. "After all, Harlee was once part of the Gill family. If I can help her, I will." The guests kept on voicing their thoughts, their opinions of Harlee sinking while their admiration for Adelina grew. They noted that while Adelina might not have been as stunning, her heart was far kinder than Harlee's. Harlee's eyes swept over the guests surrounding her. Most of them appeared to watch the situation unfold with interest, more eager to voice their opinions than uncover the truth. Eventually, Harlee's gaze landed on Adelina, who donned a smug face. Harlee had actually gone through this particular sketchbook. On Adelina's very first day back home, she had taken it out during dinner, sketching dramatically in front of everyone, eager to show off her talent for fashion design. Not satisfied yet, Adelina aimed to boost her own reputation as a design genius by misleading the guests into believing Harlee had stolen her sketchbook. Harlee scoffed. Did Adelina really not see who she was imitating, or was she just that foolish? Adelina's sketchbook held over two hundred designs, but the funniest thing was that the fifty best ones were outright copies of the latest collections from top brands. Adelina had taken beautiful, high-end designs and twisted them into complicated, tasteless mixtures, robbing them of their original grace and simplicity. Instead of couture, it resembled homework wrapped up in haste from some design major students. Worse, Harlee even spotted some of her own designs that she had previously shared online. Clearly, Adelina had been living in a fantasy for so long that she might have started to believe herself to be a design genius. Harlee's lips curled into a sarcastic smile, and her intense gaze locked onto Adelina, seeing through her antics. At Harlee's charming smile, an unshakeable feeling of unease washed over Adelina. ...... How will Harlee fight back? Can Harlee successfully find her biological parents? What happens next? 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