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  • “이혼녀에서 재벌집 상속녀로” 소설 by Star Dust

    👉 지금 읽기

    남편의 처절한 후회 + 통쾌한 복수 + 여주 역습 + 여주를 향한 무한한 사랑

    송지윤은 사랑하는 고서준을 구하려다 얼굴에 흉터가 생겼고, 그 대가로 결혼을 약속 받았다.

    3년 동안 비굴하게 인내하며 그의 마음을 얻을 수 있을 거라 굳게 믿고 있었는데, 매달 그녀에게 먹인 ‘비타민’이 피임약이라는 사실을 뒤늦게 알게 되었다.

    그의 첫사랑 심청미가 귀국하자마자, 고서준은 1000억을 들여 ‘천사의 심장’을 경매로 낙찰 받아 선물하며 그녀의 환심을 사려 했다.

    마음이 완전히 식은 송지윤은 이혼을 제안했고, 빈손으로 집을 나섰다.

    하지만 그녀는 해성 곽씨 가문의 막내딸로, 재벌 가문의 상속녀이자 세 오빠 모두 업계의 선두주자라는 사실을 아무도 몰랐다.

    이혼 첫날, 그녀를 데리러 온 건 한정판 롤스로이스였고, 이혼 첫 주에는 둘째 오빠가 직접 그녀의 얼굴에 난 흉터를 치료해 주었다. 이혼 후 첫 연회에서, 곽씨 가문의 막내딸로 등장한 그녀는 해성 전체를 놀라게 했다.

    한 번도 그녀를 제대로 쳐다본 적 없는 전 남편은, 예전의 나약하고 소심했던 전처가 갑자기 억만장자 상속녀가 되어 나타날 줄은 꿈에도 몰랐다.

    그는 처음으로 후회라는 감정을 느꼈고,

    그렇게 아내를 되찾기 위해서 처절하게 후회했다…

    👉 지금 읽기

    이혼녀에서 재벌집 상속녀로 제1화 충격

    해성 병원.

    “의사 선생님, 저 임신한 거 맞나요?” 송지윤은 검사지를 손에 꼭 쥐고 손가락 끝이 하얗게 질렸다.

    의사는 검사지를 힐끗 쳐다보더니 눈살을 깊게 찌푸리며 다소 퉁명스러운 어조로 말했다.

    “아가씨, 지금 저랑 장난하는 거예요? 피임약을 오랫동안 복용했는데, 어떻게 임신할 수 있어요?”

    그 말에 송지윤은 머리를 둔기로 맞은 듯한 충격에 순간 멍해졌다.

    ‘피임약?’

    매달 부부 관계를 맺은 후, 고서준은 항상 그녀에게 ‘종합 비타민’을 건넸다.

    그는 그녀의 체질이 약하다며 꼭 챙겨 먹어야 한다고 말했다.

    송지윤은 3년 동안 그의 말에 크게 감동했다.

    그런데 알고 보니, 그가 자신에게 3년 동안 먹인 것은 다름 아닌 피임약이었던 것이다.

    심장이 세게 조여 오는 느낌에 그녀는 떨리는 손으로 고서준의 번호를 눌렀다.

    그러나 아무도 전화를 받지 않았다.

    다음 순간, 휴대폰 화면에 한 뉴스가 떠올랐다.

    <고씨 그룹 고서준 대표, 200억에 '천사의 심장' 낙찰! 여자친구의 환심을 사기 위해 경매장에서 점천등까지 걸다!>

    송지윤은 기사 제목에 시선을 고정한 채, 눈동자가 세차게 흔들렸다.

    기사와 함께 올라온 사진은 경매 현장 사진이었다.

    고서준은 어두운 색 정장을 입고 맨 앞줄에 앉아 있었고, 옆모습은 차갑고도 고귀한 기품을 풍겼다.

    그는 고개를 돌려 바로 옆자리에 앉은 여자를 바라보고 있었다.

    노란색 드레스를 입은 여자는 긴 머리를 늘어뜨리고 있었고, 부드러운 옆모습에 입가에는 옅은 미소가 번져 있었다.

    그 여자는 바로 심청미였다.

    고서준의 소꿉친구인 그녀는 3년 전 유학을 떠났고, 최근에 막 돌아왔다고 들었다.

    송지윤은 눈을 깜빡여 보았지만, 건조한 눈시울이 아파올 뿐 눈물 한 방울도 흘러내리지 않았다.

    그 순간 그녀는 자신이 한없이 우스꽝스럽게 느껴졌다.

    ‘하긴 그럴 만도 하지. 심청미는 고서준이 마음속 깊이 품고 있는 여자였고, 나 송지윤은 고서준이 세상에 드러내고 싶지 않은 아내일 뿐이니까.’

    당시 고서준이 곤경에 처했을 때, 목숨이 위태로운 상황에서 송지윤은 조금의 망설임도 없이 그를 위해 칼을 막아냈고, 그 대가로 얼굴에 큰 흉터를 남겼다.

    칼이 자신의 얼굴을 가르는 순간에도, 송지윤은 눈 하나 깜빡하지 않았다.

    그 후, 고서준은 그녀와 결혼해 평생 책임 지겠다고 말했다.

    그렇게 두 사람은 부부가 되었다.

    그때의 고서준은 첫사랑이 유학을 떠난 탓에 우울해져서 매일 술로 슬픔을 달래고 있었다.

    그래서 결혼 3년 동안, 송지윤은 순종적인 고 사모님 역할을 연기하며 그가 돌아오기를, 자신을 소중히 여겨주기를 기다렸고, 자신을 진심으로 사랑해 주기를 바랐다.

    심지어 아이를 낳으면 그가 자신을 사랑하게 될 것이라고 순진하게 믿었다.

    그러나 결과는 어땠는가?

    그는 송지윤에게 임신할 자격조차 주지 않았다.

    이제 고서준은 다른 여자를 품에 안고 공개적으로 애정을 과시하고 있었고, 송지윤은 그제야 그의 마음에 다른 여자가 자리 잡고 있다는 것을 알게 되었다.

    그는 처음부터 송지윤을 사랑하지 않았던 것이다.

    그 사실은 무딘 칼로 살을 도려내는 듯한 고통을 안겼다.

    송지윤은 그제야 비로소 이혼을 결심했다.

    그녀가 일호 공관 별장에 돌아왔을 때, 가사도우미인 주 이모가 차가운 얼굴로 그녀를 맞이했다.

    “사모님, 사모님은 점점 더 예의가 없어지는 것 같네요. 외출하신 지가 언제인데, 이제야 돌아오시는 거에요?”

    주 이모는 비록 고서준의 집에서 일하는 가사도우미였지만, 고서준의 유모였던 그녀는 자신의 신분이 일반 도우미와는 다르다고 생각했다.

    송지윤도 주 이모가 자신에게 이토록 무례한 태도를 보이는 것은 고서준이 묵인했기 때문이라는 것을 잘 알고 있었다.

    예전에는 고서준의 환심을 사기 위해, 송지윤은 그의 주변에 있는 모든 사람에게 잘 보이려 애썼다.

    하지만 이제는 더 이상 참을 필요가 없었다.

    “건방지군!” 송지윤은 차갑게 식은 목소리로 주 이모의 뺨을 세게 내리쳤다. “가사도우미 주제에 무슨 자격으로 사모님인 나한테 그런 말을 하는 거예요?”

    주 이모는 얼굴을 감싸 쥐며 믿기 어렵다는 표정으로 말했다. “사모님, 사모님이 감히 저를 때렸어요? 저는 도련님의 유모예요!”

    “나는 고서준의 아내예요.” 송지윤은 한 글자 한 글자 힘주어 말했다. “주 이모가 서준 씨의 유모라고 해도, 결국 고씨 가문에서 돈을 주고 고용한 가사도우미일 뿐이에요.”

    주 이모는 화가 나서 몸을 부들부들 떨었지만, 더 이상 말대꾸하지 못했다.

    송지윤은 몸을 돌려 2층으로 올라갔다.

    뒤에서는 주 이모의 불만이 들려왔다. “사모님이면 뭐해? 심 아가씨가 돌아왔으니, 사모님 자리는 곧 다른 사람의 것이 될 텐데.”

    그 말에 송지윤은 자리에 멈춰 섰다.

    가정부조차 고서준의 마음에 누가 있는지 알고 있었다.

    전 세계 사람들이 다 알고 있었는데 오직 송지윤만이 3년 동안 스스로를 속이며 살아왔던 것이다.

    하지만 더 이상 상관없었다.

    이제는 송지윤이 고서준을 원하지 않게 되었다.

    방으로 돌아온 송지윤은 옷장을 열고 미리 준비해 둔 작은 캐리어를 꺼냈다.

    3년의 결혼 생활 동안 그녀가 가져갈 수 있는 물건은 고작 이 정도였다.

    그녀는 잠시 방을 둘러보았다.

    이 방은 송지윤이 직접 꾸몄지만, 그녀의 물건이라고는 단 하나도 없었다.

    송지윤은 입술을 꼭 깨물며 한동안 연락하지 않았던 번호를 찾아 눌렀다.

    “여보세요, 나 집에 가고 싶어요.”

    이혼녀에서 재벌집 상속녀로 제2화 이혼해요

    깊은 밤, 현관문이 열리는 소리가 들려왔다.

    방금 샤워를 마치고 나온 송지윤의 머리카락이 아직도 반쯤 젖어 있었다. “오셨어요?”

    고서준은 현관문 앞에 서서 셔츠 소매를 팔꿈치까지 걷어 올린 채 차갑게 식은 눈빛으로 그녀를 내려다봤다.

    송지윤은 옷깃을 꼭 움켜쥐고 입을 열었다. “당신한테 할 말이 있어요…”

    그러나 그녀의 말이 채 끝나기도 전에, 고서준이 송지윤의 턱을 세게 움켜쥐더니 그녀의 고개를 강제로 들어 올렸다.

    왼쪽 눈썹에서부터 광대뼈까지 길게 이어진 흉터가 조명 아래에서 더욱 선명하게 드러났다. 마치 구불구불한 지네가 그녀의 아름다운 얼굴에 흉측하게 자리 잡은 것 같았다.

    “할 말이 있다고?” 그의 목소리는 낮게 가라앉아 있었다. “송지윤, 언제부터 내 앞에서 수작을 부리기 시작했지?”

    “난 그런 적 없어요…”

    고서준이 그녀의 손목을 세게 움켜잡고 힘껏 끌어당기자 그녀는 휘청거리며 그의 품에 안겼다.

    다른 손으로 그녀의 잠옷 옷깃을 거칠게 잡아당기자 단추가 떨어졌다.

    송지윤은 무의식적으로 그의 가슴을 밀치며 말했다. “저리 가요.”

    “또 뭐 하려는 거지?” 고서준의 목소리에는 숨길 수 없는 비웃음이 가득했고, 그녀를 바라보는 눈빛은 마치 값싼 물건을 보는 것 같았다.

    “날 이렇게 급하게 부른 이유가 이것 때문이 아니었어? 매달 한 번씩 잠자리를 갖는 건 네가 먼저 요구한 거잖아?”

    송지윤은 그 말에 온몸이 뻣뻣하게 굳어 버렸다.

    고서준의 눈에 자신과의 잠자리는 그저 의무적인 일에 불과했던 것이다.

    송지윤은 3년 동안 그를 위해 몸을 낮추고 모든 것을 바쳤지만, 그의 사랑은 조금도 얻지 못했다.

    이제 더 이상 미련을 가질 필요가 없었다.

    “고서준 씨, 우리 이혼해요.”

    고서준은 잠시 멈칫하더니 미간을 찌푸렸다. “다시 말해 봐.”

    송지윤은 이번엔 더욱 또렷하고 단호한 목소리로 말했다. “이혼하자고요.”

    그러나 고서준은 귀찮다는 듯 넥타이를 잡아당기며 차갑게 식은 목소리로 말했다. “이혼? 송지윤, 또 무슨 수작을 부리려는 거지?”

    “진심이에요. 당신의 첫사랑이 돌아왔으니, 내가 당신들을 위해 자리를 비켜줄게요.”

    고서준의 안색이 어둡게 가라앉더니 그녀를 향해 차가운 경고를 던졌다.

    “송지윤, 적당히 하는 게 좋을 거야. 이 집 문턱도 넘지 못하는 네가 이혼하면 어디로 갈 수 있을 것 같아?”

    그의 말은 마치 날카로운 칼날처럼 송지윤의 가슴을 찔렀다.

    그렇다, 다른 사람들의 눈에 송지윤은 고서준이 황금 새장에 가둬 기르는 못생긴 새에 불과했다.

    사회생활도, 직업도, 수입도 없는 그녀는
    고서준에게 어울리지 않는 사람이었다.

    송지윤은 눈을 아래로 내리깔고 담담한 목소리로 말했다. “그건 내 일이에요. 당신이 신경 쓸 필요 없어요.”

    고서준은 눈을 가늘게 뜨며 그녀를 응시했다.

    3년 동안, 이 여자는 그의 앞에서 항상 온순하고 비굴한 모습만 보였다.

    오늘처럼 냉정하고 차가운 모습은 처음 보는 것 같았다.

    “송지윤, 밀당도 적당히 해야지. 너무 지나치잖아.”

    송지윤은 아무 말도 하지 않았다.

    그때, 휴대폰 벨 소리가 적막을 깨고 울렸다.

    발신자를 확인한 고서준의 안색이 미묘하게 변하더니 바로 전화를 받았다. “청미야, 무슨 일이야?”

    전화기 너머에서 들려오는 말에 그는 바로 대답했다. “무서워하지 마. 내가 지금 바로 갈게.”

    전화를 끊은 그는 한 치의 망설임도 없이 빠른 걸음으로 밖으로 나갔다.

    그는 단 한 번도 뒤를 돌아보지 않았다.

    고서준은 송지윤이 자신을 떠나지 못할 거라고 굳게 믿고 있었다.

    지난 3년 동안 항상 그래왔으니까 말이다.

    “쾅!”

    문이 세게 닫히는 소리가 크게 울려 퍼졌다.

    침실에는 송지윤 혼자 남았다.

    그녀는 침대 머리맡에 한참 동안 멍하니 앉아 있었다.

    그때, 휴대폰이 진동하더니 모르는 번호로 메시지가 도착했다.

    [그 사람이 또 날 보러 왔어.]

    메시지와 함께 고서준의 옆모습이 찍힌 사진이 전송되었다.

    사진 속 그의 얼굴에는 따뜻한 미소가 번져 있었고, 눈빛에는 그녀가 한 번도 본 적 없는 부드러움이 가득했다.

    ‘고서준에게도 이런 면이 있었다니.’

    곧바로 또 다른 메시지가 도착했다.

    [집 밖에 기자가 따라붙은 것 같다고 말했더니 바로 달려왔어. 날 많이 걱정하는 것 같아.]

    [아, 맞다. 오늘 그 사람이 <천사의 심장>을 경매에서 낙찰 받아 내게 선물했어.]

    [너에게도 장신구를 선물하라고 했지만, 넌 필요 없을 거라고 하더라.]

    [하긴, 아무리 아름다운 장신구라도 너의 얼굴에는 어울리지 않겠지. 아쉽네.]

    [송지윤, 넌 고서준이 어쩔 수 없이 선택한 사람일 뿐이야. 고서준이 진심으로 사랑하는 사람은 나니까.]

    메시지 하나하나가 그들의 배신에 대한 증거였다.

    그녀는 3년 동안 자신에게 차갑게 대했던 고서준이 다른 사람 앞에서는 이렇게 다정하고 섬세한 모습을 보일 줄은 전혀 몰랐다.

    송지윤은 가볍게 웃음을 터뜨리며 답장을 보냈다.

    [고서준 같은 중고 남자를 좋아한다면 네가 가져. 너희들은 하늘이 맺어준 한 쌍의 개자식들이야, 다른 사람을 해치지 말고 영원히 둘이 꼭 붙어있어.]

    메시지를 성공적으로 보낸 후, 그녀는 바로 그 번호를 차단해 버렸다.

    “고서준, 이제 우리 두 사람의 관계는 끝이야.”

    다음 날.

    송지윤은 침대 머리맡에 이혼 합의서를 남겨두었다.

    그녀는 빈손으로 고씨 가문을 떠나기로 했다. 이혼을 결심한 이상, 깨끗하게 끝내고 싶었다.

    그리고 작은 캐리어를 끌고 고씨 가문을 떠났다.

    3년 동안, 그녀는 고서준의 마음을 얻지 못했다.

    이제 정말 떠나야 할 때가 된 것 같았다.

    그녀가 대문을 나서자마자, 한정판 롤스로이스가 그녀 앞에 멈춰 섰다.

    곧이어 차 문이 열리더니 긴 다리가 차에서 내렸다.

    송지윤은 차에서 내린 사람을 확인하자마자 눈시울이 빨개졌다. “오빠, 나 이혼했어.”

    3년 동안 결혼 생활 속에서 참아 왔던 모든 억울함이 오빠를 마주한 순간 터져버렸다.

    “지윤아, 자유의 몸이 된 걸 축하해.” 곽시진은 그녀를 품에 안고 안타까운 목소리로 덧붙였다.

    “이제 너 자신으로 돌아올 때가 되었어. 집에 온 걸 환영해!”

    송지윤은 사실 해성 곽씨 가문의 막내딸로, 어렸을 때부터 어머니의 성을 따랐고, 조 단위에 달하는 재산을 소유하고 있었다.

    이제 이혼했으니, 집으로 돌아갈 때가 되었다.

    그녀는 곧바로 고씨 가문의 감시 시스템에 접속해 고씨 가문에서의 모든 흔적을 말끔히 삭제했다.

    이제 더 이상 고 사모님은 없고, 앞으로 곽씨 가문의 큰 아가씨 송지윤만 있다.

    이혼녀에서 재벌집 상속녀로 제3화 환영합니다

    일호 공관.

    고서준은 밤늦게까지 집에 돌아오지 않더니 다음 날 점심이 되어서야 별장에 돌아왔다.

    침실 문을 열자마자 침대 옆 탁자 위에 놓인 이혼 합의서가 눈에 들어왔다.

    합의서에는 여자 측이 자발적으로 부부 공동 재산을 포기하고 맨 몸으로 이혼하다는 내용이 적혀 있었다.

    그는 합의서를 손에 쥐고 손가락 마디마디에 힘이 잔뜩 들어갔다.

    그리고 곧바로 송지윤의 휴대폰 번호를 눌렀으나 전화가 꺼져 있었다.

    그는 다시 전화를 걸었지만. 여전히 꺼져 있었다.

    “주 이모!” 고서준은 계단에 서서 얼음장처럼 차가운 목소리로 주 이모를 불렀다.

    주 이모는 주방에서 황급히 달려 나오며 물었다. “도련님, 오셨어요?”

    “사모님은요?” 고서준이 날카롭게 물었다.

    “사모님은 오늘 아침 일찍 짐을 챙겨 나가셨어요.” 주 이모는 조심스럽게 말을 이었다. “수십억 원대의 고급 차량이 사모님을 데리러 왔는데, 차에서 내린 남자가 아주 잘생겼고 돈도 많아 보였어요.”

    그 말에 고서준의 눈빛이 순식간에 차갑게 식었다.

    그는 침실로 돌아와 휴대폰을 들고 비서 진준에게 전화를 걸어 명령했다.

    “송지윤이 어디로 갔는지 당장 알아봐. 오늘 안으로 반드시 송지윤의 행방을 찾아내야 해.”

    전화를 끊은 그는 창가에 서서 관자놀이가 욱신거리는 것을 느꼈다.

    ‘송지윤, 감히 정말 이 집을 떠나?’

    고서준은 어젯밤 그녀가 그저 화가 난 줄로만 알았다.

    3년 동안, 송지윤은 마치 넝쿨처럼 자신에게 의지해왔다.

    ‘내가 없으면 얼굴에 흉터가 있는 여자가 해성에서 얼마나 버틸 수 있을까?’

    ‘며칠 지나지 않아 다시 돌아오게 될 거야.’

    고서준은 깊게 숨을 들이마시고 이혼 합의서를 쓰레기통에 던져버렸다.

    그는 절대 이혼 합의서에 서명하지 않을 것이다.

    그녀를 놓아주기 싫어서가 아니라, 고서준의 인생에는 ‘버림받다’라는 단어가 존재하지 않기 때문이다.

    어젯밤 갑자기 이혼을 제안하고 오늘 아침 고급 차량을 타고 떠난 걸 보면, 이미 오래전부터 계획한 것이 틀림없다.

    ‘송지윤은 한 번도 나를 사랑한 적이 없으니, 다른 남자랑 같이 가는 것도 주저하지 않았겠지.’

    ‘하, 송지윤, 참 대단해!’

    한편,

    롤스로이스가 천천히 곽씨 가문 장원에 들어섰다.

    송지윤은 차창 밖으로 익숙하면서도 낯선 풍경을 바라보며 가슴이 빠르게 뛰는 것을 느꼈다.

    3년 만에 드디어 돌아왔다.

    저택 문 앞에는 아버지 곽진수와 어머니 송미자가 이미 오래전부터 기다리고 있었다.

    차 문이 열리자마자 송미자가 달려와 그녀를 꼭 안으며 아이처럼 울음을 터뜨렸다.

    “지윤아! 드디어 돌아왔구나. 엄마가 얼마나 오래 기다렸는지 몰라.”

    송지윤이 어머니의 등을 가볍게 토닥이며 말했다. “엄마, 아빠, 죄송해요. 걱정 끼쳐 드려서 정말 죄송해요.”

    재계의 거물인 곽진수도 눈시울이 촉촉하게 젖어 들었다. “돌아왔으면 됐어.”

    곧이어 송미자가 송지윤을 품에서 놓아주고 눈물을 닦았다.

    그러다 송지윤의 얼굴에 남은 흉터를 발견하고, 그 자리에 얼어붙었다.

    “지윤아, 네 얼굴…” 송미자의 눈에 깊은 고통이 스쳤다.

    그동안 송미자는 딸이 행복하게 잘 지내고 있는 줄로만 알았다.

    송지윤은 저택을 거의 나서지 않았고, 매번 좋은 소식만 전해 왔다.

    그런데 결과는 어떠했는가?

    3년 동안, 송지윤은 그 남자를 위해 얼굴에 흉터를 남기고, 자신의 신분을 숨기고 하인처럼 지내왔다.

    그런데 그 남자는 다른 여자와 함께 경매장에서 대놓고 애정행각을 벌이고 있었다.

    그때 곽시진이 다가와 어머니를 달래며 말했다. “엄마, 걱정하지 마세요. 시우가 성형 복원 수술에 얼마나 뛰어난지 잊으셨어요? 지윤이 얼굴도 반드시 고칠 수 있을 거예요.”

    그 말에 송지윤의 눈에 희망의 빛이 스쳤다. “오빠 말이 맞아.”

    둘째 오빠 곽시우는 최고의 외과 의사이고. 셋째 오빠 곽시걸은 유명한 보석 디자이너이다.

    “엄마, 아빠, 난 괜찮아요. 모두 지난 일이에요. 앞으로는 제가 두 분 곁을 잘 지킬게요.” 송지윤은 부드러운 목소리로 두 사람을 달랬다.

    한때 자신이 불나방처럼 고서준에게 달려들었으니, 자멸을 자초한 것이나 다름없었다.

    곽진수는 깊게 한숨을 내쉬었다. 그는 송지윤의 과거 결정에 대해 마음이 아프면서도 화가 났다.

    “그래. 며칠 쉬다가 진주 자선 디너에 시진이와 함께 참석해.”

    그동안 너무 조용하게 지내왔다. 그래서 그 사람들이 겁도 없이 감히 그의 딸을 해치려 든 것이라고 생각했다.

    송지윤은 그 말을 듣고 마음이 복잡해졌다.

    진주 자선 디너는 해성에서 가장 높은 수준의 연회이다.

    그녀는 고서준과 결혼한 3년 동안, 자격이 없다는 이유로 한 번도 참석하지 못했다.

    곽진수가 계속해서 말했다. “네가 원래의 너로 돌아가기로 결정했다면, 곽진수의 딸이 돌아왔다는 것을 모두에게 알려야지.”

    송지윤은 잠시 침묵하더니 이내 고개를 끄덕였다.

    3년 전, 그녀는 고집스럽게 신분을 숨기고 고서준과 결혼하려 했고, 부모님은 화가 나서 그녀와 의절하려 했다.

    이제 그녀는 부모님께 보상해야 할 때가 되었다.

    “네, 참석할게요.” 송지윤이 결연한 목소리로 대답했다.

    “그래, 이래야 내 딸답지.”

    곽진수는 금테가 박힌 블랙 카드를 송지윤에게 건넸다.

    “이 카드는 한도 없는 블랙 카드야. 우리 곽씨 가문은 돈이 부족한 집안이 아니니, 네가 좋아하는 건 마음껏 사.”

    송지윤은 검은색 카드 표면을 내려다보며 입가에 미소를 지었다.

    ‘몇 분 전까지만 해도 난 돈 한 푼도 없는 빈털터리였는데, 지금 순식간에 부자가 된 건가?’

    👉 계속 읽기

  • “그녀가 알파의 상속자를 데려갔다” 소설 by Dewdrop Jones

    👉 지금 읽기

    임신 3개월 차, 나는 교통사고를 당했다.

    의식이 흐릿해지는 와중에도 남편 알파 에단의 번호를 계속해서 눌렀지만, 아무도 전화를 받지 않았다.

    고통 속에서 겨우 정신을 차렸는데, 남편의 첫사랑인 이비가 인스타스램에 올린 게시물을 보게 되었다.

    [알파, 내가 어둠을 무서워한다는 걸 알고 밤새도록 내 곁을 지켜줘서 고마워.]

    [오늘 모든 일정과 업무를 취소하고 나와 함께 경매에 참석해주고 세상에서 가장 좋은 선물까지 줬어. 너무 행복해!]

    그제야 나는 깨달았다. 내가 아이를 지키기 위해 중상을 입었을 때, 남편은 다른 암컷 늑대와 함께 밤을 보냈다는 것을.

    나는 담담하게 ‘좋아요’를 누르고 게시물을 닫았다.

    남편이 첫사랑을 선택했다면, 나는 그 선택을 존중해 줄 것이다.

    7일 후, 나는 아이와 함께 남편의 세상에서 영원히 사라질 것이다.

    👉 지금 읽기

    그녀가 알파의 상속자를 데려갔다 제1화 반려 계약해지

    리안나 시점.

    임신 3개월 차, 나는 교통사고를 당했다.

    의식을 잃기 직전, 남편 알파 에단에게 전화를 걸었지만, 그는 끝내 전화를 받지 않았다.

    고통 속에서 눈을 뜬 나는 남편의 첫사랑 아이비가 SNS에 올린 사진을 보았다.

    [알파가 너무 고마워요. 제가 어둠을 무서워한다는 걸 알고 밤새도록 저와 함께 있어 줬어요.]

    [게다가 오늘은 모든 일정을 취소하고 저와 함께 경매에 참석해 저에게 세상에서 가장 좋은 선물을 주겠다고 했어요. 정말 너무 행복해요!]

    그제야 나는 깨달았다. 내가 아이를 지키기 위해 중상을 입었을 때, 그는 그녀의 곁을 지키고 있었던 것이다.

    나는 담담하게 좋아요를 누르고 SNS를 닫았다.

    그가 첫사랑을 선택했다면, 나는 그를 놓아주면 그만이다.

    7일 후, 나는 아이와 함께 그의 세상에서 영원히 사라질 것이다.

    나는 허약한 몸을 이끌고 반려 해지 계약서를 손에 쥔 채 저택으로 돌아왔다.

    무거운 참나무 문을 열고 집에 들어서니 거실의 불은 모두 꺼져 있었다.

    어두운 거실. 익숙하고도 커다란 실루엣이 소파에 앉아 있었고, 온몸에서 최상위 알파에게서만 느낄 수 있는 압박감을 뿜어 내고 있었다.

    그는 바로 나의 남편이자 나의 알파, 에단이다.

    “이제야 돌아왔어?” 그의 목소리는 얼음장처럼 차가웠다.

    내가 대답하기도 전에, 그는 자리에서 일어나더니 몇 걸음 만에 내 앞에 다가왔다.

    그는 내 손목을 세게 움켜쥐었다. 힘이 어찌나 센지 뼈가 부러질 것 같은 통증이 느껴졌다.

    “리안나, 오늘 아이비의 SNS에 좋아요를 누른 건 대체 무슨 의미야?”

    그는 혐오감 가득한 눈빛으로 나를 내려다보며 말했다. “아이비는 이제 막 귀국해서 몸이 아직 회복되지 않았어. 자극을 받으면 안 된다고! 일부러 좋아요를 누른 건, 너야말로 내 루나라는 걸 아이비에게 귀띔하려는 거야?”

    그를 바라 보는 내 시선이 점점 흐릿해 졌다.

    3년 전, 에단은 실버 독에 중독되어 두 다리가 마비되었고

    아이비는 그를 버리고 해외로 떠나 버렸다. 그 일로 큰 충격을 받은 그는 매일 술에 취해 지냈다.

    당시, 가시 울프의 주선으로 나는 그와 결혼했다.

    지난 3년 동안, 나는 그의 아내일 뿐만 아니라 그의 마음을 위로해 주는 존재였고, 그의 이동식 혈액 창고이자 치료 도구였다. 덕분에 그의 몸은 드디어 건강을 되찾았다.

    하지만 지금, 그는 다정함이라곤 찾아 볼 수 없는 얼굴로 차가운 숨결을 내 목에 내뿜으며 말했다. “경고 했지! 질투 좀 적당히 하라고!? 철 좀 들면 안 돼?”

    ‘철 좀 들라고?’

    그의 말은 비수가 되어 날아와 이미 무감각해진 내 심장을 찔렀다.

    그는 내가 두 시간 전에 교통사고를 당했다는 사실을 모르고 있었다.

    전복 된 차 안에서, 나는 피투성이가 된 얼굴로 그에게 전화를 걸어 나와 뱃속에 있는 아이를 구해달라고 도움을 청하려 했다.

    하지만 내가 말을 꺼내기도 전에, 그가 먼저 입을 열었다. “아이비가 몸이 좀 안 좋아서 지금 자리를 비울 수 없어. 네 일은 네가 알아서 처리해.”

    그 말을 끝으로 그는 전화를 끊었다.

    나는 있는 힘을 다해 찌그러진 운전석에서 기어 나왔고, 폭우 속에서 3km를 걸은 뒤에야 지나가는 차를 겨우 세울 수 있었다.

    “미안해.” 나는 눈빛에 비친 절망을 감추기 위해 고개를 숙였다. “앞으로는 그러지 않을게.”

    내가 이렇게 빨리 잘못을 인정할 줄 몰랐던 걸까? 그는 잠시 멈칫하더니 눈빛에 담긴 분노가 조금 가라앉았다. 하지만 이내, 그는 의심 어린 눈빛으로 나를 쳐다봤다.

    그는 내 손목을 놓아주고는 내 흐트러진 머리와 창백한 얼굴에 시선을 고정했다.

    “하인들이 네가 하루 종일 돌아오지 않고 전화도 받지 않았다고 하더군. 대체 어디에 있었던 거야?” 그는 미간을 살짝 찌푸렸다. “어제 계속해서 나한테 전화를 걸었잖아? 아이비와 기 싸움을 하려고 그런 거였어?”

    “아니.” 나는 가슴속에서 요동치는 감정을 억누르고 아무렇게나 대답했다. “울프의 물자 조달에 문제가 생겨서 처리하고 왔어. 바쁜 와중에 휴대폰을 잃어 버린 것 같아.”

    나는 손에 쥔 서류를 그의 앞에 내밀었다. “이건 이번 분기 재무 보고서와 네가 사인이 필요한 할 영지 계약서야. 내일 아침 행정처에서 사용해야 하니 지금 사인해 줘.”

    에단은 서류를 받아 탁자 위에 던졌다.

    그는 내 일 처리 능력을 믿었다. 지난 3년 동안, 나는 루나의 역할을 완벽하게 해냈으니까.

    나는 그를 대신해 번거로운 부족 업무를 처리했고, 실버 독에 중독되어 자제력을 잃은 그가 미친 듯이 내 몸을 탐할 때도 나는 내가 그의 반려라는 걸 되새기며 그의 짐승 같은 욕구를 묵묵히 감당했다.

    그는 소파에 앉아 펜을 들더니 서류 맨 아래에 빠르게 자신의 이름을 적었다.

    그는 몰랐겠지만 복잡한 그래프들로 가득한 서류들 중, 맨 아래에 위치한 서류는 사실 바로 반려관계 해지 계약서였다.

    그가 사인만 한다면, 계약서는 7일 후에 효력을 발휘할 것이다.

    그때가 되면, 그와 나를 강제로 옳아 맨 연결 고리는 완전히 끊어져 버릴 것이다. 그때가 되면, 그는 자유를 되찾을 것이고, 나는 그의 세상에서 완전히 사라질 것이다.

    “사인 다 했어.” 그가 서류를 다시 내었고 손가락이 내 손등을 스쳤다.

    그 순간, 나는 마치 불에 데인 것처럼 손을 뒤로 뺐다.

    에단의 눈빛이 어두워지더니 낮은 목소리로 물었다. “리안나, 지금 나를 피하는 거야?”

    그가 자리에서 일어나자 큰 그림자가 나를 완전히 뒤덮었다.

    그는 손을 뻗어 긴 손가락으로 내 턱을 들어 올리더니 강제로 눈을 맞췄다.

    그의 눈빛에는 원시적인 소유욕이 가득 담겨 있었고, 그것은 알파가 배우자에게 보이는 본능적인 반응이었다.

    “오늘은 우리 결혼기념일이야.” 그의 낮게 깔린 목소리와 함께 그의 손이 내 턱에서부터 목으로 미끄러졌고 그의 까칠까칠한 손가락이 내 목젖을 건드렸다.

    그의 손은 뜨거웠지만, 내 마음은 얼음장처럼 차가웠다.

    그때, 그의 휴대폰이 갑자기 울렸다.

    화면에는 ‘아이비’라는 이름이 깜빡거렸다.

    에단의 움직임이 멈칫했다.

    그가 전화를 받자 아이비의 울먹임이 깃든 나약한 목소리가 들려왔다. “에단… 나 너무 무서워. 천둥소리가 너무 커… 나랑 같이 있어 주면 안돼?”

    무의식적으로 나를 돌아보는 에단의 눈빛에 망설임이 스쳤다.

    나는 창백한 미소를 지어 보이며 낮은 목소리로 말했다. “가 봐. 아이비는 이제 막 귀국해서 몸이 허약해. 너는 알파잖아, 울프의 구성원을 돌보는 건 너의 의무야. 나는… 괜찮아.”

    에단은 내가 비꼬는 게 아닌지 확인하려는 듯 나를 뚫어지게 쳐다봤다.

    하지만 내 연기는 완벽했고, 마치 감정 없는 나무 인형처럼 보였다.

    “드디어 루나의 책임을 다하는군.” 그는 휴대폰을 주머니에 넣으며 만족스러운 목소리로 말했다. “그동안 힘들었지? 아이비의 상황이 안정되면 보상해 줄게.”

    ‘보상?’

    내가 원하는 건 보상 따위가 아니라, 그가 영원히 나에게 주지 않을 편애다.

    “그래.” 나는 고개를 끄덕였다.

    에단은 즉시 몸을 돌려 문가로 다가갔다. 아주 다급한 모습이었고 마치 괴물에게 쫓기는 사람 같았다.

    그렇게 그는 뒤도 돌아보지 않고 떠났다. 그러니 당연히 보지 못했을 것이다. 문을 닫는 순간, 허약한 몸을 더 이상 지탱 할 수 없었던 내가 벽을 따라 천천히 미끄러져 바닥에 주저 앉은 모습을.

    나는 계약서를 내려다보며 떨리는 손가락으로 위에 적힌 그의 이름을 어루만졌다.

    ‘에단, 이건 내가 너를 위해 할 수 있는 마지막 일이야.’

    7일.

    이제 7일이 남았다. 그때가 되면 나는 더 이상 에단의 루나가 아니다.

    나는 어렵게 지켜 낸 뱃속의 아이와 함께 그의 세상에서 영원히 사라질 것이다.

    그녀가 알파의 상속자를 데려갔다 제2화 영원한 충성

    리안나 시점.

    다음 날 아침, 햇살이 통유리 창문을 통해 방안으로 쏟아져 들어왔다.

    갈비뼈가 부러진 나는 애써 통증을 참아가며 두꺼운 컨실러로 창백한 얼굴을 가리고 깔끔한 정장으로 갈아입었다.

    에단은 가시 울프의 알파일 뿐만 아니라 Voss그룹의 CEO이기도 하다.

    그리고 나는 그의 수석 비서다. 하지만 사람들은 나를 에단의 가장 유능한 오른팔이자, 항상 침착하고 효율적인 직장 엘리트로만 알고 있다.

    그들은 몰랐다. 내가 바로 그늘에 가려진 채, 신분을 드러낼 수 없는 그의 반려 라는 사실을.

    에단은 나에게 늑대가 없다는 사실이 마음에 걸렸고 그래서 우리의 관계를 외부에 공개하지 않았다. 그럼에도 나는 묵묵히 기다리며 그가 마음을 돌리기를 바랐다.

    하지만 이제 더 이상 그럴 필요가 없다.

    회사 건물에 도착한 나는 곧장 비서실장 사무실로 향해 사직서를 그녀의 책상 위에 올려놓았다.

    “사직할 거라고요?”

    비서실장은 안경을 고쳐 쓰며 놀란 기색을 감추지 못했다. “리안나 씨, 리안나 씨는 에단 대표님이 가장 신뢰하는 사람이잖아요. Voss그룹은 리안나 씨 없이는 안 돼요. 이 사실을 에단 대표님도 알고 있나요?”

    “대표님은 신경 쓰지 않을 거예요.” 나는 담담한 목소리로 말하며 입가에 직업적인 미소를 지었다. “업무 인수인계는 며칠 안에 마무리할게요. 회사에 피해가 발생하는 일은 없을 거에요.”

    비서실장은 한참을 망설이다 결국 한숨을 내쉬며 사직서에 사인했다.

    사무실을 나선 나는 깊게 숨을 들이마셨다. 가슴에서 느껴지는 강렬한 통증은 차 사고로 입은 부상이 결코 눈에 보이는 것 만큼 가볍지 않다는 걸 상기시켜줬다.

    자리로 돌아가는 길, 탕비실에서 직원 몇 명이 수군거리는 소리가 내 귀에 들려왔다.

    “들었어요? 그분이 돌아왔대요.”

    “아이비 씨 말이에요? 어쩐지, 어제 알파가 경매장에서 100억을 들여 <월광석의 눈물> 을 낙찰 받더라고요.”

    “세상에, 그건 반려를 향한 영원한 충성을 상징하는 목걸이잖아요! 에단 대표님이 아이비 씨를 얼마나 아끼는지 알 것 같아요.”

    나는 그 자리에 멈춰 섰다.

    <월광석의 눈물>

    3년 전, 우리가 혼인신고를 한 날, 나는 잡지에서 우연히 그 목걸이를 보았다.

    전체적으로 투명하고, 달빛 아래에서 푸른빛을 발산하는 그 목걸이는 달의 여신이 늑대인간 커플에게 선사하는 가장 진실 된 축복이라고 전해졌다.

    나는 얼굴을 붉힌 채, 사진 속 목걸이를 가리키며 에단에게 작은 목소리로 물었다. “목걸이가 정말 예쁜 것 같아.”

    당시, 그는 사진을 흘깃 쳐다보며 무심하게 말했다. “그건 정식으로 루나 의식을 치른 반려가 착용하는 거야. 리안나, 너는 늑대로 변신도 못 하잖아. 네가 그 목걸이를 착용하면 울프의 구성원들이 반발할 거야. 철 좀 들면 안돼? 귀찮은 일을 만들지 말고.”

    결국, 목걸이를 나에게 주는게 규정에 어긋나는게 아니라 그저 내가 그 목걸이를 소유할 자격이 없었을 뿐이다.

    “리안나 씨, 알파의 사인이 필요한 서류에요. 급한 일인데 대표님께 가져다 드릴 수 있나요?” 어린 비서가 달려와 내 생각을 끊어 냈다.

    서류를 건네 받은 내 손끝이 미세하게 떨렸다.

    대표실 문을 열고 들어선 순간, 나는 평생 잊을 수 없는 장면을 목격했다.

    에단은 널찍한 사무실 의자에 앉아 있었고, 아이비는 그의 책상에 걸터앉아있었고 하얀 실크 드레스가 그녀를 더욱 가련해 보이게끔 만들었다.

    평소 차갑기만 했던 에단의 눈빛은 지금 이순간, 너무 부드러웠고, 아이비가 그의 목을 끌어안고 볼에 가볍게 입을 맞췄음에도 그는 거절하지 않고 내버려 두었다.

    “툭!”

    내 손에 들려 있던 서류가 바닥에 떨어졌고 여기저기 흩어진 서류들은 현재의 내 어지러운 마음과 다를 바 없었다.

    두 사람은 동시에 나를 돌아보았다.

    에단의 눈빛은 순식간에 평소의 차가움을 되찾았고 방해 받은 것에 대한 불쾌감까지 묻어났다.

    “노크도 안 하고 들어와?” 그가 차갑게 꾸짖었다.

    아이비는 놀란 사슴처럼 책상에서 폴짝 뛰어내리더니, 태연한 얼굴로 다가와 내 손을 잡았다. “리안나 씨, 오해하지 마세요. 전 그냥 너무 기뻐서 그랬어요. 에단 씨가 너무 귀한 선물을 주셨거든요.”

    그녀는 내 손을 잡더니 일부러 목에 걸린 목걸이를 보여주었다.

    햇살을 머금은 커다란 월광석은 눈 부신 광채를 뿜어냈다. 하지만 그 목걸이를 보는 나는 마치 뺨을 얻어 맞은 것 같은 기분이 들었다.

    “예쁘죠?” 아이비는 달콤하게 미소 지었지만, 눈빛에는 나만 알아볼 수 있는 도발이 숨어 있었다. “에단 씨가 그러는데, 이 ‘영원한 충성’을 의미하는 목걸이는 오직 저한테만 어울린다고 하지 뭐에요?”

    나는 가슴이 욱신거렸고 마치 누군가 무딘 칼로 내 심장을 도려내는 것 같았다.

    나는 쓰러지지 않기 위해 애를 쓰는 와중에 완벽한 미소를 지어 보였다. “예쁘네요. 아이비 씨한테 잘 어울려요.”

    나는 갈비뼈가 어긋난 고통을 참으며 허리를 굽혀 바닥에 흩어진 서류를 하나씩 주워 에단의 책상 위에 올려놓았다.

    “알파님, 서류 확인해 주세요.”

    내가 이토록 침착한 태도를 보이자 에단의 눈빛에 알 수 없는 불안감이 스쳤다.

    내가 사무실을 나서려는 것을 본 그가 드물게 설명을 덧붙였다. “아이비가 막 돌아왔잖아. 환영 선물로 준 거니까 오해하지 마.”

    “네.” 나는 고개를 끄덕이고 말 없이 그의 사무실을 나섰고 에단의 반응에 신경 쓰지 않았다.

    퇴근 후, 나는 빌라로 돌아와 짐을 정리하기 시작했다.

    여긴 우리 두 사람의 흔적으로 가득 차 있는 곳이다. 하지만 지금, 마치 모든 가구들이 전부 내 일방적인 사랑을 비웃는 것 같았다.

    나는 내 옷을 하나씩 개어 캐리어에 넣기 시작했고 그가 별 생각 없이 선물한 값비싼 장신구는 하나도 챙기지 않았다.

    나는 오직 내 물건 들만 챙겨 떠날 것이다.

    내가 캐리어를 닫으려는 순간, 뒤에서 다급한 발소리가 들려왔고 곧이어 에단의 분노에 찬 목소리가 들려왔다.

    “리안나, 지금 뭐 하는 거야?!”

    그녀가 알파의 상속자를 데려갔다 제3화 잘 보상해 줄게

    리안나의 시점.

    나는 에단이 이렇게 빨리 돌아올 줄은 예상하지 못했다.

    에단은 내가 입을 열어 해명하기도 전에, 성큼성큼 다가와 캐리어를 닫으려는 내 손목을 세게 움켜쥐었다.

    그는 정리를 마친 내 캐리어를 내려다보며 추궁하듯이 물었다. “아이비에게 주는 환영 선물이라고 설명했잖아. 지금 짐을 챙기는 건 뭐야? 가출이라도 하겠다는 거야? 리안나, 내가 누누이 말했지. 넌 울프의 루나야. 루나로서 현명하게 행동해야 한다고.”

    잘생겼지만 차갑게 식은 그의 얼굴을 바라보는 내 마음속에 무력감과 함께 씁쓸한 감정이 밀려왔다.

    그는 항상 이런 식이다. 내가 겪는 모든 고통을 전부 억지 부리는 것으로 치부했다.

    지금 이 순간, 나는 그와 무의미한 논쟁을 벌이고 싶지 않았고, 그가 계약 해지 협의서에 대해 눈치 채는 것도 싫었다.

    “억지 부리는 거 아니야.” 나는 고개를 숙이고 말했다. “옷장에 오래된 물건이 너무 많아서 계절이 바뀌는 김에 정리할 건 정리하고 버릴 건 버리려 했어. 어차피 낡은 물건을 버려야 새 물건을 들일 수 있잖아.”

    에단은 내가 하는 말이 사실인지 아닌지 확인하려는 듯 한참 동안 나를 빤히 쳐다봤다.

    그는 차분하기만 한 내 표정에서 예전 같은 원망의 기색을 찾지 못했다. 그제야 그의 안색이 조금 누그러지더니 내 손목을 놓아주었다. “네가 그렇게 생각한다면 다행이고.”

    “에단?”

    그때, 문밖에서 부드러운 목소리가 들려왔다.

    나는 고개를 번쩍 들었다. 아이비가 얇은 실크 원피스에 에단의 체취가 묻어나는 재킷을 걸친 채 나타났다.

    문틀을 잡고 선 그녀의 안색은 창백했고, 마치 언제라도 시들어버릴 것 같은 하얀 연꽃 같았다.

    “아이비가 왜 여기에 있어?” 나는 무의식적으로 물었고, 심장이 무언가에 세게 찔린 것 같은 느낌이 들었다.

    “아이비는 당분간 우리 집에서 지낼 거야.” 에단은 아이비의 곁으로 다가가 자연스럽게 그녀의 어깨를 감쌌다. 그 익숙한 동작이 내 눈을 찔렀다. “아이비의 열성팬들이 요즘 들어 난리도 아니야. 아이비의 임시 거처까지 알아냈어. 그곳은 이제 안전하지 않아. 적당한 아파트를 찾기 전까지 우리 집에서 지내는 게 최선이야.”

    그는 경고 어린 눈빛으로 나를 돌아봤다. “아이비를 잘 대접해 줘. 루나인 네가 울프의 일원을 일부러 따돌렸다는 소문이 들리지 않게 말이야. 알겠어?”

    나란히 선 두 사람의 모습을 바라보는 나는 이 상황이 너무나도 황당하게 느껴졌다.

    내 반려라는 사람이 자신의 첫사랑을 데리고 우리의 신혼집에 들어왔다. 심지어 루나인 나에게 그녀를 잘 대접하라고 명령까지 내렸다.

    “알겠어.” 나는 자조적인 미소를 지으며 대답했다. “아이비를 잘 돌봐줄게.”

    하인들은 곧바로 분주하게 움직였다. 내 침실 바로 옆에 있는 방은 원래 미래의 아이를 위해 준비한 방이었지만, 이제는 아이비의 침실이 되었다.

    에단은 직접 나서서 아이비의 방을 꾸며주었고, 하인들에게 그녀가 가장 좋아하는 라벤더 디퓨져를 준비해 오라고 했다.

    옆방에서 들려오는 웃음소리는 날카로운 칼처럼 이미 만신창이가 된 내 마음을 반복해서 찔렀다.

    날이 어두워 졌고 나는 아프고 지친 몸을 이끌고 욕실로 들어갔다.

    따뜻한 물줄기가 몸을 씻어내렸지만, 피부에 남은 한기는 씻어내지 못했다.

    거울에 비친 자신의 창백한 얼굴과 교통사고를 당해 가슴에 생긴 멍자국을 바라 보던 나는 결국 참지 못하고 눈물을 흘렸다.

    이제 6일만 더 버티면 된다.

    6일만 더 참으면, 완전히 자유로워 질 것이다.

    심플한 슬립을 입고 욕실에서 나온 나는 자욱한 수증기 때문에 방에 누군가 있다는 걸 알아차리지 못했다.

    “악!”

    발이 미끄러진 나는 짧은 비명과 함께 균형을 잃고 바닥에 쓰러졌다.

    하지만 예상했던 고통은 찾아오지 않았고, 뜨겁고 단단한 품이 나를 받아주었다.

    에단의 큰 손이 내 허리를 단단히 감쌌고 다른 손으로 내 뒤통수를 받쳐주며 나를 꽉 끌어 안았다.

    그의 몸에서 풍기는 강렬하고 위험한 삼나무 향이 순식간에 나를 잠식했다.

    “왜, 이제 걷는 법도 잊었어?” 그의 목소리는 낮고 거칠었다.

    “놔줘…” 나는 몸부림치며 똑바로 서려고 했다. “아이비와 함께 있지 않고 왜 여기에 있어?”

    에단의 눈빛이 어둡게 가라앉더니 나를 더욱 세게 끌어안았다. 그의 손가락이 젖은 머리카락을 따라 목 뒤로 미끄러졌다. 그곳은 늑대인간에게 있어 가장 민감한 부분이다.

    “리안나, 내가 네 반려라는 사실을 잊지 마.” 그가 고개를 숙이고 뜨거운 숨결을 내 쇄골에 내뿜었고 나는 부르르 몸을 떨었다. “어젯밤은 우리 기념일이었어. 내가 말했지? 잘 보상해 주겠다고.”

    그의 손이 노골적으로 위 아래로 움직이기 시작했고, 거친 손가락이 내 부드러운 피부를 어루만지며 낯선 불꽃을 일으켰다.

    3년 동안 결혼생활을 한 만큼, 그는 어떻게 하면 내 욕망을 자극할 수 있는지 너무나도 잘 알고 있었다.

    “안 돼… 읍…”

    내 거절의 말은 그의 강압적인 입맞춤에 목구멍에 갇혔다.

    그의 키스엔 그 어떤 애정도 담겨 있지 않았고, 오직 소유욕으로 가득 차 있었다. 마치 나에게 벌을 내리는 것 같았다.

    그는 강제로 내 이빨을 벌렸고 숨을 쉴 수 없을 만큼 격렬한 키스를 퍼부었다. 나를 통째로 삼키려는건 아닌지 의심이 들 정도였다.

    급기야 나는 그에게 떠밀려 침대에 쓰러졌고 그의 커다란 몸이 나를 눌렀다.

    몸부림치는 과정에서 실크 슬립이 미끄러져 내려 내 하얀 피부가 드러났다.

    에단의 눈동자에 원초적인 욕망의 불꽃이 타올랐고, 그의 입술이 내 목을 따라 점차 아래로 내려가더니 내 쇄골에 야릇한 붉은 자국을 남겼다.

    “에단…” 분위기에 취한 나는 그의 어깨를 움켜쥐었고, 내 손톱이 그의 근육에 파고들었다.

    이 순간, 너무 치욕스러웠으나 나는 그의 따뜻한 함정에 빠져 자아를 잃고 말았고 머릿속엔 온통 마지막 남은 온기를 탐하고 싶은 생각밖에 없었다. 그 온기가 가짜라는 걸 알고 있음에도 말이다.

    그의 손이 내 슬립 아래로 파고들었고 그의 손바닥은 놀라울 정도로 뜨거웠다. 그가 완전히 나를 소유하려던 바로 그때.

    “악! 에단! 살려줘!”

    옆방에서 아이비의 날카로운 비명 소리가 들려왔다.

    👉 계속 읽기

  • “늑대의 왕의 후회” 소설 by Iron Petal

    👉 지금 읽기

    그를 구하기 위해 나는 늑대 영혼을 부수고 은독을 받아들이며, 껍데기만 남은 결혼 생활을 3년이나 비굴하게 참아왔다.

    비 오는 밤, 내가 유산하게 되었는데, 그는 그런 내가 첫사랑의 축하연의 분위기를 망쳤다고 비난했다.

    그리고 내가 이혼 서류를 건네자 그는 서류를 찢어버리고 나를 감금했다. 그는 내가 루나 자리를 탐낸다고 확신한 것이다. 하지만 그는 내가 3개월밖에 살지 못한다는 사실을 전혀 몰랐다.

    나는 강제로 파트너 연결고리를 끊고 세상에서 사라졌다.

    이후, 그는 왕년에 그의 생명을 구해준 과정의 진실을 알게 되었는데 내가 피를 토하며 죽어간다는 소식을 듣고 미친 듯이 모든 부족을 샅샅이 뒤지면 그녀를 찾았다.

    “신해란, 돌아와. 내 목숨을 너에게 배상해줄게.”

    나는 부족의 새로운 늑대 왕의 품에 기대어 옅은 미소를 지었다. “내 사랑은 이미 나의 늑대와 함께 죽었어.”

    👉 지금 읽기

    늑대의 왕의 후회 제1화 유산

    신해란의 시점

    밖에는 폭우가 쏟아지고 천둥번개가 쳤다. 마치 번개가 별장의 지붕을 뚫고 들어올 것만 같았다.

    나는 메인 침실의 화장실에 웅크리고 앉아있었는데 차가운 바닥 타일 위에서 극심한 복통을 느꼈다. 마치 누군가 내 자궁에 손을 뻗어 억지로 살점을 뜯어내는 것만 같았다.

    고개를 아래로 떨구자 하얀 타일 위에 피가 흥건하게 고여 있었다.

    짙은 피 냄새와 함께 기운 없는 페로몬 냄새가 섞여 올라왔다.

    나는 유산했다.

    3년 전, 늑대를 잃은 폐물이 되었고 내 몸은 강한 알파의 새끼를 품을 수 없었다.

    하지만 나는 한 번 더 도박을 하고 싶었다.

    이 아이를 낳을 수 있다면, 권태하가 아이를 봐서라도 나에게 조금이라도 부드러운 모습을 보여줄 것이라고 생각했다.

    하지만 나는 도박에서 졌다.

    그 작은 생명은 내 몸에서 미끄러져 나왔다. 움직임도, 심장 박동도, 심지어 늑대 새끼의 따뜻한 기운도 느껴지지 않았다.

    사산이었다.

    떨리는 손으로 피 덩어리에서 아직 형체를 갖추지 못한 작은 것을 들어 올렸다. 너무 작아서 털도 제대로 자라지 않았지만, 나는 그 작은 몸에서 권태하의 냄새를 맡을 수 있었다.

    눈물이 내 손등에 떨어져 피와 섞였다.

    “미안해… 아가, 미안해…”

    나는 아이를 지키지 못했다.

    그때, 휴대폰 화면이 밝아졌다. 권태하를 위해 특별히 설정한 알림음이었다.

    나는 황급히 통화 버튼을 눌렀다.

    “권태하!”

    목소리가 심하게 잠겨 있었다. “우리 아이가 없어졌어… 지금 어디야?”

    전화기 너머에서 권태하의 목소리는 들리지 않았다.

    대신 시끄러운 환호성과 박수 소리만 들려왔다.

    곧이어 부드럽고 달콤한 여자의 목소리가 스피커를 통해 선명하게 들려왔다.

    “오늘 저의 시상식에 참석해 주신 모든 분들께 감사드립니다.”

    송아리였다.

    그녀는 오메가임에도 불구하고 늑대족에서 보석처럼 여겨지는 여배우다.

    그녀의 목소리는 적절한 타이밍에 울먹였다. “이 길을 걸어오면서 포기하고 싶었던 적도 많았어요. 하지만 저는 운이 좋은 사람이에요. 왜냐하면 제 뒤에는 항상 가장 강한 알파가 서 있기 때문이죠.”

    “고마워요, 권태하 씨. 항상 제 곁에 있어줘서 고마워요.”

    전화기 너머에서 다시 뜨거운 박수 소리와 휘파람 소리가 들려왔다. 심지어 “정말 천생연분이네요! “라는 감탄사도 들려왔다.

    그는 그곳에 있었다.

    내가 아이를 잃고 고통에 몸부림칠 때, 그는 다른 여자를 축하해 주고 있었다.

    “누구 전화야?”

    드디어 전화기 너머에서 권태하의 목소리가 들려왔다. 방해받은 듯 짜증이 섞인 목소리였다.

    “신해란 씨한테서 온 전화 같아요.” 송아리의 목소리는 조금 무고하게 들렸다. “제가 받았는데, 아무 말도 하지 않네요. 권태하 씨, 이제 케이크를 잘라야 하지 않나요?”

    “그래, 신경 쓰지 말고 빨리 케이크를 자르자.”

    권태하의 목소리가 선명하게 들려왔다.

    “오늘은 네 좋은 날이니까, 다른 사람이 분위기를 망치게 하지 마.”

    “뚜, 뚜, 뚜…” 전화가 끊겼다.

    욕실에는 다시 숨 막힐 듯한 정적이 흘렀다.

    “분위기를 망쳐?” 나는 검게 변한 휴대폰 화면을 보며 입꼬리를 끌어올렸지만, 눈물조차 흘릴 수 없다는 것을 깨달았다. 권태하의 눈에 송아리는 억울한 일을 당해 보호가 필요한 대상이었고, 나는 가문의 혼약을 빌미로 그에게 억지로 시집가려는 악독한 여자일 뿐이었다.

    그는 내가 임신했다는 사실조차 몰랐다. 몇 달 전, 임신 사실을 알게 된 나는 검사 결과를 들고 그에게 깜짝 선물을 주고 싶었다. 서재에서 업무를 처리하던 그는 고개도 들지 않고 차갑게 말했다. “바쁘니까 네 건강 검진 보고서 볼 시간 없어. 돈이 필요하면 오진한테 말해.”

    나는 검사 결과를 등 뒤에 숨겼다. 지금 생각해 보면, 그 검사 결과는 그저 웃음거리일 뿐이었다.

    나는 고개를 숙여 손에 든 차가운 것을 내려다봤다. 이미 차갑게 식어 있었다.

    가족에게 알려야 할까?

    나는 연락처에 있는 ‘아버지’라는 이름을 한참이나 쳐다보다가 결국 자조적으로 고개를 저었다. 그들은 나를 신경 쓰지 않을 것이다.

    신월늑대군에서 10년 넘게 밖에서 떠돌다 겨우 찾아낸 진짜 딸인 나는, 친부모의 눈에 그저 진흙투성이의 야생 소녀일 뿐이었다. 워커울프 가문과 혼인하여 이익을 얻기 위한 도구로 사용될 뿐이었다.

    그리고 내 신분을 10년 넘게 대신한 가짜 딸 최유라가 그들의 금지옥엽이었다.

    내가 권태하의 새끼를 지키지 못했을 뿐만 아니라, 루나의 자리마저 위태로워졌다는 사실을 알게 된다면, 그들은 내가 완전히 이용 가치를 잃었다고 생각할 것이고, 신월늑대군의 체면을 깎아내렸다고 비난할 것이다.

    이 세상에, 나의 집은 진작에 없었다.

    “그래, 잘 됐어.” 나는 손가락으로 아직 제대로 자라지 않은 눈썹을 부드럽게 쓸어내렸다. “아가, 엄마를 원망하지 마… 엄마가 조용한 곳에 데려다줄게.”

    나는 병원에 갈 수 없었다.

    병원에 가면 의사는 내가 늑대가 없다는 비밀을 알게 될 것이다.

    그것은 권씨 가문의 수치이자, 내가 마지막으로 숨기고 싶은 비밀이었다.

    그 해, 그를 구하기 위해 나는 마녀에게 그의 몸에 있는 독소를 모두 나의 늑대 혼에 옮겨 달라고 부탁했다.

    나의 늑대는 나를 보호하기 위해 모든 독을 대신 막아냈다.

    나는 세면대를 짚고 힘겹게 바닥에서 일어섰다. 다리가 후들거리고, 하체에서 찢어지는 듯한 통증이 느껴졌다.

    나는 깨끗한 나무 상자를 찾아 부드러운 캐시미어 스카프를 깔았다.

    그리고 아이를 상자에 넣고 뚜껑을 덮었다.

    검은색 긴 원피스로 갈아입은 나는 신발도 신지 않고 상자를 품에 안고 별장을 나섰다.

    밖에는 폭우가 쏟아지고 있었다.

    비가 몸에 닿자 차가운 기운이 뼛속까지 스며들었다. 늑대 핵이 부서진 나로서 비를 맞게 되면 감염을 유발할 수 있지만, 나는 더 이상 신경 쓰지 않았다.

    정원 구석에 도착한 나는 진흙탕에 무릎을 꿇고 손으로 구덩이를 파기 시작했다. 손가락 끝이 닳아 피가 스며 나왔다.

    나는 마치 감각이 없는 기계처럼 구덩이를 파고, 상자를 넣고, 흙을 덮었다.

    그리고 마지막으로 그 위에 돌을 올려놓았다.

    모든 것을 마친 나는 비를 맞으며 불이 환하게 켜진 별장을 바라봤다.

    나의 늑대의 혼은 의식 깊은 곳에서 미약한 울음소리를 내더니 완전히 침묵했다.

    늑대가 죽자 나는 갑자기 기침을 하며 검은 피 덩어리를 토해냈다.

    그것은 은독이 심장에 침투했다는 징조였다.

    마녀는 내가 검은 피를 토하기 시작하면, 3개월 정도 밖에 시간이 남지 않을 거라고 말했다.

    “3개월…”

    나는 바닥에 고인 피가 비에 씻겨 내려가는 것을 보며 쓸쓸하게 미소를 지었다.

    이 고통스러운 날들도 드디어 끝이 나는구나.

    그날 밤, 권태하는 돌아오지 않았다.

    다음 날, 연예 뉴스에서 송아리가 축하연에서 투구꽃이 소량 함유된 술을 마시고 알레르기로 병원에 입원했다는 소식을 보았다.

    권태하는 밤새 그녀의 병상 곁을 떠나지 않고 지켰다.

    늑대의 왕의 후회 제2화 네가 원하면 오고, 원하면 떠날 수 있다고 생각해

    신해란의 시점

    다음 날 오후.

    거실 소파에 앉은 나는 미리 작성해 둔 <파트너 해제 협의서>를 손에 꼭 쥐고 있었다.

    샤워를 마치고 깨끗한 흰색 잠옷으로 갈아입었지만, 몸에서 피비린내가 가시지 않는 것 같았다.

    그때, 마당에서 엔진 소리가 들려왔다.

    권태하의 부가티 베이론이었다.

    그가 돌아왔다.

    문이 열리고 권태하의 훤칠한 모습이 현관에 나타났다. 어제와 같은 검은색 정장을 입은 그는 넥타이를 느슨하게 풀고 턱에 푸르스름한 수염이 자라 피곤해 보였다. 그가 들어오자마자 진한 향수 냄새가 풍겨왔다.

    송아리의 달콤한 페로몬이었다.

    현관에 발을 들인 권태하의 미간이 깊게 찌푸려졌다. 손을 들어 코앞에서 휘저은 그의 금색 눈동자에 혐오감이 스쳤다.

    “이게 무슨 냄새야?”

    그는 나를 빤히 쳐다보며 물었다. “피비린내가 이렇게 심하게 나다니. 신해란, 집에서 또 무슨 짓을 한 거야?”

    그는 내가 그의 마음을 되돌리기 위해 몰래 마녀의 편법을 사용하고 있다고 생각했다.

    나는 아무 말도 하지 않고 그를 가만히 쳐다봤다.

    예전의 나라면, 바로 자리에서 일어나 그의 외투를 받아들고 슬리퍼를 건네며 조심스럽게 말을 걸었을 것이다.

    하지만 오늘은, 소파에 앉은 채 꼼짝도 하지 않았다.

    내가 아무 말도 하지 않자 권태하의 화가 치밀어 올랐다. 그가 큰 걸음으로 다가오자, 알파의 강력한 위압감이 나를 덮쳐왔다.

    “송아리가 어젯밤 병원에 입원했어. 큰일 날 뻔했다고. 네가 연기하는 모습을 볼 기분이 아니야.”

    “권태하, 우리의 아이가 죽었어. 어젯밤, 네가 송아리를 위해 축하 파티를 열어주고 있을 때.”

    내가 입을 열었는데, 평온한 나의 목소리에 나조차도 놀랐다.

    권태하의 발걸음이 갑자기 멈칫하더니

    잠시 멍한 표정을 짓고 농담을 들은 것처럼 입 꼬리를 비스듬히 올리며 차갑게 비웃었다.

    “아이?”

    내 앞에 다가온 그가 내려다보는 눈빛에 경멸감이 가득했다.

    “신해란, 네 수법이 점점 더 저급해지고 있어.”

    “송아리를 쫓아내기 위해 이런 거짓말까지 하는 거야?”

    “거짓말 아니야.”

    나는 정원 방향을 가리키며 말했다. “저기 있어. 믿지 못하겠다면 파헤쳐 봐.”

    “그만해!”

    권태하가 버럭 소리를 지르며 내 말을 가로 잘랐다.

    그는 내 턱을 움켜쥐고 억지로 고개를 들었다. 손아귀에 힘이 얼마나 들어갔는지, 턱뼈가 부서질 것만 같았다.

    “연기 그만해. 정말 역겨워.”

    “어제는 전화로 죽은 척하더니, 오늘은 아이를 핑계로 삼아? 신해란, 언제까지 이런 식으로 살 거야?”

    “송아리가 술을 잘못 마셨다는 이유로 질투가 나서 이러는 거야?”

    그의 얼굴을 가만히 쳐다보는 나는 갑자기 너무 지쳤다.

    설명할 힘조차 남아있지 않았다.

    나는 그의 손을 뿌리치고 탁자 위에 놓인 서류를 그의 앞에 밀어 넣었다.

    “믿든 말든 네 마음대로 해.”

    나는 계속해서 말했다. “사인해. 권태하. 사인하면 자유로워질 수 있어.”

    권태하가 눈을 가늘게 뜨고 탁자 위에 놓인 서류를 내려다봤다.

    서류의 제목을 확인한 그가 비웃음을 터뜨렸다.

    “파트너 해제 협의?”

    그는 서류를 대충 훑어보더니 다시 탁자 위에 던졌다.

    “신해란, 네 수법이 점점 더 저급해지고 있어.”

    그는 나를 내려다보며 경멸 가득한 눈빛으로 말했다. “지난번에는 아픈 척하더니, 이번에는 떠나겠다고 협박하는 거야? 내가 믿을 것 같아?”

    “허영심 가득한 네가 어렵게 루나의 자리에 올랐는데, 쉽게 떠날 리가 없잖아?”

    “아무 말도 하지 않는 걸 보니, 찔리는 게 있나 보네?”

    권태하가 나에게 바싹 다가오자 눈빛에 혐오감이 가득했다. “3년 전, 내가 중상을 입고 의식을 잃었을 때, 루나의 자리를 차지하기 위해 할아버지를 속여 혈맹 혼약을 맺었지!”

    “내가 왜 너를 증오하면서도 결혼했는지 알아?”

    그는 내 턱을 움켜쥐고 말했다. “탐욕의 대가가 무엇인지 알려주기 위해서야. 루나의 자리를 차지하고 싶어 했지? 그럼 그 빈껍데기를 지키며 내가 진정으로 원하는 사람이 누구인지 똑똑히 지켜봐!”

    나는 그를 가만히 쳐다보며 손가락으로 소파를 긁었다.

    그의 마음속에서 지난 3년간의 결혼 생활은 나를 향한 긴 처벌이었던 것이다.

    “송아리가 제때 도착해 독을 바꿔주지 않았다면, 나는 이미 죽었을 거야. 나를 구하느라 몸이 상한 송아리는 해외에서 요양해야 했고, 심지어 내 앞날을 위해 너 같은 악독한 여자와 결혼하라고 설득했어!”

    “송아리는 이렇게 착한데, 너는 뭐야?”

    “너는 불난 집에 부채질을 했을 뿐만 아니라, 송아리가 목숨을 걸고 지켜낸 루나의 자리를 차지하고 떠나지 않으려 하고 있어!”

    나는 온몸이 떨리고 손톱으로 손바닥을 깊게 찔렀다.

    3년 전, 목숨을 걸고 그를 구해낸 사람은 바로 나였다! 은독의 고통을 견디고 늑대 혼이 사라진 사람도 나였다!

    “송아리가 아니야!” 나는 결국 참지 못하고 소리를 질렀다. “3년 전, 당신을 구해낸 사람은 나야! 그때 나는…”

    “닥쳐!”

    권태하가 갑자기 버럭 소리를 질렀다. 그것은 알파의 명령이었다.

    저항할 수 없는 힘이 순식간에 내 목을 조여왔다. 입이 억지로 닫히고 성대가 잠긴 것처럼 아무 소리도 낼 수 없었다.

    나는 두려움에 떨며 그를 쳐다봤다. 그는 가짜를 위해 내 말할 권리를 강제로 빼앗았다.

    “신해란, 내가 어떤 사람이라고 생각하는 거야? 네가 원하면 오고, 가고 싶으면 떠날 수 있다고 생각해?”

    늑대의 왕의 후회 제3화 어디도 가지 마

    신해란의 시점

    권태하가 테이블 위에 놓인 계약서를 노려보는 눈빛이 당장이라도 나를 잡아먹을 것 같았다.

    “찢어!”

    날카로운 소리가 공기를 갈랐다. 그는 내가 서명한 파트너 해제 협의서를 손에 쥐고 몇 번이나 찢어발긴 후, 내 얼굴에 뿌렸다.

    “이게 내 태도야!”

    그의 입가에 비웃음이 번졌다. 그것은 알파의 권위에 도전받았을 때의 본능적인 반응이었다.

    “신해란, 주제를 알아야지. 이런 식으로 내 관심을 끌 수 있을 것 같아?”

    나는 그의 분노를 잠자코 지켜봤다.

    예전의 나라면 두려움에 몸을 떨며 그에게 화내지 말라고 애원했을 것이다. 하지만 지금은 내 늑대가 죽었기에, 그의 알파 위압감에도 두려움을 느끼지 못했다.

    “나 장난치는 거 아니야.”

    나는 그의 눈을 똑바로 쳐다보며 낮은 목소리로 말했다. “권태하, 나 이제 너를 사랑하지 않아. 난 팩을 떠날 거야. 파트너도 그만둘래.”

    그는 자리에 멈칫했다. 아마 3년 동안 그의 뒤만 졸졸 따라다니며 고분고분했던 ‘쓸모없는’ 내가 사랑하지 않는다는 말을 입에 담을 줄은 상상도 하지 못했을 것이다.

    하지만 곧 그의 놀라움은 더욱 깊은 분노로 변했다.

    그는 성큼성큼 다가와 내 목을 움켜쥐고 차가운 벽에 세게 밀쳤다.

    그가 내게 가까이 다가오자, 뜨거운 숨결이 내 얼굴에 닿았지만 나는 오히려 한기를 느꼈다.

    나는 억지로 고개를 뒤로 젖히고 숨을 헐떡였지만 저항하지 않았다. 그저 텅 빈 눈빛으로 그를 뚫어지게 쳐다볼 뿐이었다.

    아마 내 눈빛이 그의 심기를 건드렸는지, 손에 힘이 조금 풀렸을 때 그의 주머니에서 휴대폰이 울렸다.

    권태하의 움직임이 갑자기 멈췄다. 그는 나를 놓아주고 휴대폰을 꺼내 들었다. 그의 얼굴에 번진 분노가 순식간에 긴장으로 변했다.

    “송아리? 무슨 일이야?”휴대폰 너머에서 송아리의 울먹이는 목소리가 들려왔다.

    시끄러운 배경 소음과 함께 많은 사람들이 비명을 지르는 것 같았다. “권태하… 나 좀 살려줘… 파파라치들이 너무 많아… 로그도… 아파트 입구를 막고 있어. 너무 무서워. 심장이 너무 빨리 뛰어…”

    권태하의 안색이 순식간에 어두워졌다.

    그것은 내가 한 번도 본 적 없는 당황한 표정이었다.

    “무서워하지 마, 송아리.”

    그의 부드러운 목소리가 내 귀에 거슬렸다. “안전한 곳에 숨어 있어. 전화 끊지 말고. 지금 바로 갈게.”

    그는 전화를 끊고 나를 쳐다보지도 않고 밖으로 달려 나갔다.

    현관에 도착했을 때, 그는 무언가 생각난 듯 자리에 멈칫하더니 차갑게 식은 눈빛으로 나를 노려봤다.

    “네가 어떻게 속죄해야 할지 깨닫기 전까지, 어디도 가지 못해.”

    말을 마친 그는 다시 현관으로 향했다.

    철컥, 문이 잠기는 소리가 들렸다.

    나는 그가 밖에서 경호원들에게 지시하는 소리를 들었다. “사모님 잘 지켜. 내 허락 없이 저택 밖으로 한 발자국도 나가지 못하게 해.”

    엔진 소리가 빠르게 멀어졌다.

    저택은 다시 고요해졌다.

    나는 바닥에 흩뿌려진 종이 조각들을 내려다보며 천천히 몸을 웅크리고 하나씩 주워 담았다.

    손이 떨렸지만 눈물은 나지 않았다.

    권태하는 몰랐을 것이다. 이번에는 내가 정말로 그를 포기했다는 것을.

    나는 종이 조각들을 쓰레기통에 버리고 드레스룸으로 향했다.

    권태하가 나를 위해 사준 고급 드레스나 값비싼 보석은 챙기지 않았다.

    나는 몸을 웅크리고 옷장 맨 아래에서 검은색 낡은 여행 가방을 꺼냈다. 그 안에는 내가 가진 몇 벌의 낡은 옷이 들어 있었다.

    마지막으로 나는 침대 매트리스 사이에 숨겨둔 검은색 위성 전화를 꺼냈다.

    이것은 내가 바운티 헌터였을 때 얻은 전리품이다. 권태하는 나를 시골에서 온 쓸모없는 사람이라고 생각했기에, 내가 이런 물건을 가지고 있다는 사실을 영원히 알지 못할 것이다.

    나는 익숙하게 외운 번호를 눌렀다.

    “뚜-”

    한 번의 신호음이 울리자마자 전화가 연결되었다.

    “신해란?”

    전화 너머에서 낮은 목소리가 들려왔다. 차무진이었다.

    한때 내가 수없이 쫓아다니며 암살을 지도하다가 결국 절친이 된 로그 킹이다. 그리고 내가 늑대 혼이 없다는 사실을 아는 유일한 사람이었다.

    “차무진,” 나는 차분하게 말했다. “네가 그랬지. 내가 떠나고 싶은 날이 오면, 나를 데려가겠다고.”

    “지금이야?” 그는 군말 없이 물었다.

    “지금. 권태하의 저택에 있어.”

    “10분이면 돼.”

    전화를 끊은 나는 루나의 지위를 상징하는 다이아몬드 반지를 빼서 침대 옆 탁자에 올려놓았다.

    권태하는 문이 잠기면 나를 가둘 수 있다고 생각했을 것이다.

    나는 옥상 테라스로 통하는 문을 열고 밤하늘 아래로 걸어 나갔다.

    바람이 세게 불었지만, 나는 전례 없는 자유로움을 느꼈다.

    👉 계속 읽으세요

  • Gaslit By Him, Reborn From Ashes by Xiao Wang

    Gaslit By Him, Reborn From Ashes by Xiao Wang

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    I have a deadly peanut allergy, but my fiancé Jason’s childhood best friend Kelly thinks I’m just making a big deal out of nothing.
    Under the guise of “treatment,” she deliberately poured peanut oil into my soup, sending me straight to the ICU in anaphylactic shock.
    And Jason didn’t defend me at all — instead, he emotionally manipulated me, saying she “meant well.”
    While I was fighting for my life, they secretly moved away and stole my multi-million-dollar matcha café brand, putting Kelly in charge.
    When I went to confront them, Jason’s family surrounded me and threatened me — I couldn’t leave unless I ate a bowl of noodles with peanut oil.
    I was forced to eat that bowl of noodles, which resulted in a stomach perforation, and I nearly died again.
    I couldn’t understand how the man who once supported my dreams could watch me struggle in agony and still call me “hard to please.”
    In his eyes, my love and my life were worthless — nothing compared to his sick loyalty to her.
    After the surgery, I didn’t shed another tear.
    I called my lawyer. Let the full-scale legal battle begin!

    👉 READ NOW

    Gaslit By Him, Reborn From Ashes Chapter 1

    Arielle Fischer’s POV
    My throat felt like it was closing up, my lungs burning, the world around me blurring into flickering gray shadows.
    The doctor’s words echoed in my ears: peanut oil. This wasn’t an accident — it was deliberate. I knew who did it. And what hurt even more, I knew Jason would defend her.
    Jason is my fiancé, yet our lives were built on fundamentally different foundations, especially when it came to food. I have a severe peanut allergy.
    I carry an EpiPen with me everywhere, my diet is carefully curated, every ingredient meticulously checked. Jason, on the other hand, grew up in a family where food was meant to be explored.
    He always treated my caution like some kind of quirk, which caused constant friction between us.
    His mother, Mrs. Davenport, always tried to be thoughtful when I visited their home. She once prepared a separate dish just for me at a family gathering. She never seemed to fully grasp how serious my allergy was. She’d say things like, “Just a little bit, it won’t hurt, right?” but back then, I still gave her the benefit of the doubt.
    Kelly Cruz, Jason’s best friend since childhood, often came over to our place. At one family dinner, as I carefully picked at the steamed chicken on my plate, Kelly leaned forward, her gaze sharp and judgmental.
    “Still on that strict diet plan, Arielle?” Her voice was sickly sweet. “Don’t you think life is just… too limited that way?”
    I forced a smile. “It’s not a diet plan, Kelly. It’s a medical necessity.”
    She snorted. “Oh right, the peanut allergy. Jason told me you used to eat peanuts as a kid. Are you sure you’re not just overreacting?”
    My stomach twisted, but I chose not to respond. Jason, sitting beside me, cleared his throat — and said nothing. He always hated conflict, especially with Kelly.
    Kelly clearly wasn’t done with me. She took a loud bite of her stir-fried peanuts. “Honestly, I don’t know how you two make it work. Food is such a huge part of life, especially around here. What if you have kids someday? They can never try a good bowl of peanut butter?”
    There was something pointed about her words, as if my dietary restrictions were an obstacle between Jason and me.
    That night, Jason’s father hosted a barbecue in the backyard. The air was thick with the smell of grilled meat and rich spices. Trying to be “accommodating,” Jason handed me a drink.
    “Try this, honey,” he said, a little too eagerly. “It’s my dad’s signature bourbon. Everyone loves it.”
    I hesitated. “Is it… safe? You know how sensitive I am to allergens.”
    He waved impatiently. “It’s just bourbon, Arielle. There’s no peanuts in alcohol. Stop being so paranoid. It’s a special batch, really smooth.” Kelly and his parents were all watching. I didn’t want to cause a scene, so I took a small sip.
    It was spicy at first, then a strange sweetness spread across my tongue. Before I could process it, my throat started itching. My vision began to swim.
    Terror washed over me. I clutched my throat, eyes wide with fear, trying to gasp — but I couldn’t draw a single breath.
    The world tilted. I stumbled, knocking over a tray of drinks. Jason rushed over, confusion on his face.
    “Arielle? What’s wrong?” he asked urgently, a sudden edge of panic in his voice.
    I couldn’t speak. I just grabbed at my throat, fighting to breathe. My EpiPen, my bag — where was it?
    Everything blurred. Only the suffocating fear consumed me. Jason finally realized how serious it was and frantically rummaged through my bag.
    He found the pen and administered the shot. Adrenaline surged into my bloodstream, a sharp sting that gradually restored my breathing. I gasped for air, each breath a small victory. The ambulance arrived, its siren shattering what should have been a pleasant evening.
    At the hospital, after the emergency passed, Jason sat beside my bed, looking genuinely shaken. He held my hand, his touch surprisingly gentle.
    “Arielle, I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice rough. “I really had no idea. I thought it was just bourbon. My dad sometimes adds his own spices… maybe he used a batch with some peanut residue.”
    “I promise it’ll never happen again. From now on, I’ll personally prepare all your food.” He squeezed my hand, his eyes filled with a fleeting look of remorse.

    Gaslit By Him, Reborn From Ashes Chapter 2

    Arielle Fischer’s POV
    Hospital food was bland and tasteless, like a bowl of unappetizing mush. After weeks of it, weakness and exhaustion had pushed me to the brink.
    That day, Jason walked in carrying a picnic basket. The aroma hit me, and my empty stomach growled.
    “Look what I brought!” he announced cheerfully, setting the basket on my nightstand. “Your favorite! Kelly helped me make it.”
    Despite my hunger, my stomach immediately rebelled. Kelly. Always Kelly. The moment her name left his lips, the enticing aroma turned nauseating. I felt sick — not from hunger, but from disgust.
    “Kelly? The Kelly who doesn’t take my peanut allergy seriously?”
    Jason’s smile froze. “Oh, Arielle, don’t be like that. She feels terrible. She just wanted to do something nice for you.”
    The scent drifted over — roasted chicken, aromatic herbs. It did smell good, but beneath it all, I could smell betrayal.
    “No, thanks,” I said, pushing my hospital tray aside. “I’m not hungry.”
    Jason looked genuinely hurt. “But it’s your favorite roast chicken! The one you taught me to make, remember? That special marinade.”
    I gave a bitter laugh. “Of course I remember. I taught you every step. From picking the freshest herbs to balancing the spices so the skin comes out crispy and fragrant. I spent hours teaching you how to debone it properly, how to truss it.”
    “Are you trying to tell me Kelly somehow mastered my unique techniques out of nowhere?”
    Jason shifted uncomfortably. He avoided my gaze. “Well, she tried, really tried. She watched me do it, chopped some things. But… I did most of it in the end. She almost cut herself during the deboning.” He gave a dry laugh. “But it’s the thought that counts, right? She really wanted to make you happy.”
    “So you’re saying Kelly, who can barely be bothered to open a jam jar, genuinely wanted to learn how to replicate my signature dish?” I pressed.
    He sighed, his patience wearing thin. “Arielle, what does it matter? It’s just a chicken. Why do you have to be so difficult?” His tone was dismissive, completely indifferent to what I was going through.
    Anger and exhaustion left me too weak to argue. Tentatively, I picked up my fork. The chicken was still warm, wrapped in foil, and it smelled wonderful.
    As I ate, Jason rambled on about Kelly’s kitchen disasters. “You should’ve seen her, Arielle! She almost set the kitchen on fire trying to sauté the herbs. And she kept complaining the chicken was ‘too raw’ when I’d barely seared it. It was hilarious.” He laughed — that easy, carefree laugh I hadn’t heard in weeks. The way he described Kelly’s clumsiness with such fondness made my chest ache.
    He seemed genuinely amused by her mistakes, but he’d never laughed like that when I messed up. I felt more and more like an outsider.
    Every bite of perfectly cooked chicken — the dish I’d taught him myself — became a symbol of his betrayal. Food that was meant to comfort me was now impossible to swallow.
    Just then, my phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number — a video. I opened it and trembled with rage.
    The video was shot in Jason’s kitchen. Kelly, her hair casually tied up, was holding a camera, filming Jason wrestling with the chicken. Her voice came through, dripping with sarcasm.
    “Aww, look at Jason, playing chef for his ‘sickly’ fiancée. How domestic! You know, she’s always saying no to this and no to that with food — so high-maintenance, it’s unbearable. Can’t she just eat normal food like the rest of us?” She laughed shrilly, and on camera, she poured some peanut oil onto the plate, then winked at the lens.
    My spoon clattered against the plate. My hands were shaking, and I nearly dropped my phone.
    “Jason!” My voice was hoarse and trembling, full of anger and disbelief. “What is this?” I held the phone up to him. The video was still playing, Kelly’s smug, vicious face filling the screen.
    He watched the video, and the color drained from his face. “That… that can’t be… Kelly wouldn’t…” he stammered. Then his expression shifted, a flash of anger crossing his features. “Who sent you this? This is an invasion of privacy! It’s slander!” He tried to grab my phone — clearly more concerned about Kelly’s image than my safety.
    “Slander?” I repeated, my voice rising. “Isn’t what she did obvious enough?” I pushed the plate away. The thought of taking another bite made me sick.
    Jason slammed his fist on the nightstand. “God, Arielle! You always blow everything out of proportion, it’s exhausting! Can’t you just let it go? Kelly made a mistake! She apologized! Why do you always have to make everything so complicated? You’re impossible to please!”
    Those words hurt more than any physical blow. I was the victim, yet somehow I was the one who was always in the wrong.

    Gaslit By Him, Reborn From Ashes Chapter 3

    Arielle Fischer’s POV
    A heavy feeling settled over me. Jason’s words echoed in my mind: “so picky it’s unbearable.” It wasn’t just criticism — it was a weapon. It negated my fear, my pain, even my right to exist safely.
    I remembered when Jason was different. Back then, he was my staunchest supporter. When my “Refined Matcha Wellness Café” was just getting started in the city, when investors questioned the concept, Jason stood by my side, his hand steady on my shoulder, advocating for my business.
    He helped me draft proposals, stayed up late tasting new matcha blends, and celebrated every small win like it was his own victory. My parents were initially skeptical about my choice to start a business, but it was because of his unwavering support for me and my dreams that they gradually accepted him.
    But that Jason was gone. In his place was a man blinded by a twisted childhood bond. He couldn’t see Kelly’s malice. His judgment had vanished, leaving only a near-pathological need to protect his “old friend.”
    I stared at him, saying nothing. My silence wasn’t weakness — it was a deliberate choice. There was no point arguing with someone who refused to listen.
    His mind was made up. In his eyes, Kelly was the innocent friend, and I was the problem.
    That night, lying in my hospital bed, I posted a brief message on my private social media: “The taste of betrayal is more bitter than losing your sense of taste.”
    Minutes later, Kelly’s name appeared on my screen. She messaged me directly:
    “What’s that supposed to mean, Arielle?” Her tone was feigned innocence. “Are you still blaming me? I apologized. I made a mistake. You’re being so dramatic. You should apologize to Jason — you’re the one stressing him out.”
    Furious, I replied: “Kelly, you’ve tried to set me up more than once!”
    She shot back immediately: “C’mon, you’re fine. Stop being so sensitive. Listen, I’m having a barbecue at Jason’s parents’ place tomorrow night. Everyone’s coming. Why don’t you come? We can hash it out face to face. You can tell everyone what a ‘monster’ I am, and I can tell them how hard I tried to help you. Let’s see who they believe.” She added: “Unless you’re too scared to face me, right?”
    She knew I was weak, yet she provoked me anyway. I didn’t have the strength to deal with Jason and his parents’ stares.
    But then a sense of shame — of being labeled “cowardly” — washed over me. The thought of Kelly “winning,” of her painting me as the villain, was unbearable. I wouldn’t let her get away with it anymore. I had to face her.
    “I’ll be there,” I typed, my resolve hardening.
    Minutes later, Jason called. His tone was impatient: “Arielle, Kelly said you’re coming to the barbecue. Why? You just got out of the ICU. Why are you causing trouble?” He sighed, exasperation in his voice. “It’s just a small gathering. Why do you have to make everything so complicated? Your… picky eating is already going to be an issue. Don’t make it worse.”
    His words hit me like a sledgehammer. He didn’t care about my health — he cared about his friends’ “vibe.” He’d reduced my life-threatening allergy to “picky eating,” nothing more than an inconvenience that would “ruin everyone’s mood.” His friends’ opinions mattered more than my safety, my health, even my existence.
    I was done.

    👉 CONTINUE READING

  • The Penthouse Wife’s Ultimate Revenge by Star Cruiser

    The Penthouse Wife's Ultimate Revenge by Star Cruiser

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    One week before my wedding, I walked into the master bedroom of my fully-paid penthouse apartment and caught my fiancé cheating with my best friend.
    They were laughing about his fake “insomnia”—the lie he’d used to trick me into sleeping in the guest room so they could have the master bedroom to themselves.
    Gage was a top surgeon, and I’d sacrificed almost everything to care for his supposedly fragile health. I’d even brewed essential oils from my late mother’s precious collection to steady his hands.
    But behind my back, they were planning to pretend to marry me, then slowly push me out and take over my home.
    When I confronted them, they didn’t show a single ounce of guilt.
    Gage deliberately destroyed the essential oil my late mother had left me, then violently shoved me against the wall and locked me in the room to suffer the pain and bleeding alone.
    I had poured everything into building a safe harbor for this man, and in his eyes, I was nothing but a convenient stepping stone.
    I didn’t even bother shedding a single tear.
    I took out my phone, canceled our honeymoon trip, and listed the penthouse on the market—cash sale, 24 hours.
    Time to take out the trash.

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    The Penthouse Wife’s Ultimate Revenge Chapter 1

    Eliza Anderson’s POV:
    One week before my wedding, I noticed the master bedroom door was slightly ajar.
    Then I heard their voices—my fiancé Gage and my best friend Caroline. They were laughing about their secret relationship, how they’d been together behind my back!
    Gage Morrison was a top cardiovascular surgeon. In public, he was quiet, brilliant, compassionate.
    The media praised his steady hands and calm demeanor on the operating table. He spoke softly, always looking at you with that focused, concerned gaze. He cultivated an aura of sensitivity and thoughtfulness, and everyone around us fell for it.
    Gage claimed he suffered from severe insomnia. He said even the slightest sound or light would disturb his sleep. To deal with it, he needed to lock himself in the master bedroom every night.
    He needed absolute darkness and silence, no distractions whatsoever. And I believed him. I made sure the house stayed quiet. After nine o’clock at night, I always tiptoed around, terrified of disturbing him.
    I made so many sacrifices for Gage. His health became my top priority. I moved into the guest room, sharing it with Caroline. A few months earlier, she’d needed a place to stay after a bad breakup, and I’d taken her in without hesitation.
    I bought a special white noise machine for his room, installed blackout curtains, and prepared soothing herbal tea for him every night. I thought I was supporting the man I loved, helping him through a difficult condition.
    Seven days before the wedding, I was in the living room adjusting the wedding guest list when I heard a faint sound coming from the master bedroom.
    Gage always kept the master bedroom door locked tight, but now it was cracked open. I quietly approached the door and heard soft laughter, followed by Gage’s deep chuckle.
    My mind went blank. I pushed the door open a little more and peered through the crack.
    Caroline was sitting on the bed, wearing one of Gage’s oversized shirts, her hands casually draped over his shoulders. They looked far too intimate.
    Caroline spoke first, her voice teasing. “So, my dear heart doctor, how long do you plan to keep up this ‘insomnia’ act after the wedding? Eliza will get suspicious sooner or later.”
    Gage laughed. “Not too long. Just until she’s used to you living here. Once we’re married, my ‘insomnia’ will miraculously clear up. Then we can slowly talk her into moving out on her own. She’s so used to accommodating me, she’ll never suspect a thing.”
    Caroline leaned in closer. “And then? Just the two of us? In our penthouse?” She emphasized “our” with a possessive, triumphant tone.
    I held my breath. The penthouse was mine. I’d bought it with my own money.
    Gage leaned in and kissed her hair. “That’s right. Once she’s gone, we can really enjoy our lives. No more sneaking around, no more sharing the guest room with your fake best friend.”
    The world tilted. My vision blurred. My body went rigid. Their sweet words and cruel laughter filled my ears.
    His “insomnia” was a lie. His “insomnia” was an elaborate ruse. It had all been just to cover up their affair.
    I walked back to my room, and the first thing I did was take out my phone. I canceled the honeymoon trip—the Bora Bora vacation we’d always dreamed of.
    Then I opened the real estate app on my phone. The penthouse—I’d bought it outright, all cash. I listed it as “For Sale by Owner,” looking for a buyer who could close fast.
    I wanted them out. I wanted everything cleaned out. A notification popped up on the screen: “Listing successful. Expect high interest.” A cold satisfaction rose in my chest.
    I picked up the carefully blended essential oil from my nightstand. It was a soothing oil I’d specially formulated for Gage, using a precious plant essence my late mother had left me. I’d poured my heart into that tiny bottle with love, thinking it would ease his stress and steady his surgeon’s hands.
    It was a symbol of my care, my love, my devotion. I walked to the trash can and dropped it in. The small bottle hitting the plastic made a soft sound, but it felt like a gunshot.
    Just then, my phone vibrated. A message from the real estate agent: “Cash offer accepted. Closing in 48 hours.”
    I heard Gage and Caroline coming out of the master bedroom, their laughter still echoing. Caroline, as innocent as ever, walked into the kitchen and ran straight into me.
    She gave me a bright, fake smile. “Good morning, Eliza! Sleep well?”
    Gage followed behind, looking refreshed. The moment he saw me, he flashed his signature gentle, charming smile. “Good morning, Eliza. Sorry I’m up so early—another emergency. How did you sleep last night?”
    He walked toward me, reaching out to put his hand on my shoulder, and I felt a surge of revulsion. His touch used to comfort me, but now it sickened me like poison.
    I caught a faint, unfamiliar scent on him—sweet and cloying, Caroline’s cheap perfume, barely masked by Gage’s cologne.
    “Fine, Gage,” I answered calmly, betraying no emotion. Caroline was busy making coffee in the kitchen, humming a little tune.
    Then she turned around, looking at me with feigned innocence and concern. “Eliza, you look a little tired. Everything okay? Gage got a call last night, and we were just talking about his surgery.”
    Gage nodded, meeting my eyes. His gaze held that usual sincerity, like he’d practiced it a thousand times. “Yeah, honey, just a quick briefing. Caroline really understands my work. You know, I have to be ready for surgery.”
    He added a little apologetic shrug. His charm was still intact, a weapon he wielded at will. A flicker of unease crossed his eyes, but it was quickly masked by his usual calm. He was so good at pretending, it was terrifying.
    “It’s fine,” I said again, forcing myself to smile, not a single emotion showing on my face.
    Gage leaned in closer, his voice low and soft. “You know, this job… it’s really exhausting. But knowing you’re waiting for me—that’s what keeps me going.” He finished with a gentle squeeze of my hand and a smile.
    “I understand. Your work is important,” I replied perfunctorily.
    Gage smiled, satisfied. He picked a fresh rose from the vase on the counter and tucked it behind my ear. “Thank you for being so patient, my love. You’re the best.”
    There was a sparkle in his eyes. He was still so handsome, so perfect—but it felt like a cruel mockery, laughing at the trust I’d once had.
    Caroline stepped forward and took my arm. “Eliza, you know, sometimes you need to relax. Gage needs you to stay strong and happy. Maybe you should take a little trip, clear your head before the big day.” She patted my arm, smiling like a harmless little bunny.
    Gage looked at me with adoration in his eyes. “Yes, darling. You work so hard, you deserve a good rest. Your presence helps me so much—you’re my rock.”
    And then I saw it. A tiny, almost invisible fleck of glitter on the left lapel of Gage’s suit. It was Caroline’s.
    The last thread of my self-deception snapped completely. The so-called perfect life had all been a lie.
    My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out, trying to look casual.
    It was an email from a private investigator I’d quietly hired a few days ago, out of desperation as Gage’s behavior grew stranger.
    The subject line read: “Caroline Stafford Pregnancy Confirmation Report.” My hands trembled slightly as I opened it.
    Attached was an ultrasound image and a doctor’s diagnostic report confirming Caroline was twelve weeks pregnant. At the bottom of the report, the doctor’s signature read: “Dr. Gage Morrison.” My world crumbled.

    The Penthouse Wife’s Ultimate Revenge Chapter 2

    Eliza Anderson’s POV:
    My phone vibrated again, and I clenched it tighter. Gage glanced at my trembling hand, his eyes narrowing slightly, a flicker of suspicion crossing his face.
    He met my gaze, and his smile faltered for a split second, almost freezing.
    “Eliza, is everything all right?” he asked, his tone carrying a hint of concern—or was it wariness? He picked up his phone from the kitchen counter and swiped through notifications with practiced ease.
    “Just work emails,” I lied, my voice flat and emotionless, my face immediately shifting into an apologetic, charming smile.
    “Ah, these late-night emails. I’m so sorry, darling, for disturbing our morning.” He walked over, slipped an arm around my waist, pulled me close, and his lips brushed lightly against my forehead.
    “Actually,” he whispered in my ear, “I almost forgot! I have a surprise for you.” He pulled out his phone again and showed me the screen. It was a booking confirmation.
    “Bora Bora, first class, for two. Just us.” His eyes sparkled with feigned delight. “I know you’ve always wanted to go there. A little pre-wedding trip, just the two of us—my way of making up for being so busy with work.”
    He shook his head and laughed self-deprecatingly. “My job is absolutely crazy, but I carved out this time. Just you and me, away from everything.”
    He held the phone out to me, waiting for my reaction. I stared at the booking information, the text blurring. Bora Bora. The honeymoon I’d just canceled.
    The honeymoon he’d planned with Caroline. My stomach churned. The taste of irony was bitter in my mouth. “That’s wonderful, Gage.”
    I forced the words out, my voice dripping with false enthusiasm. “I’m so looking forward to it.” This was the game I had to play, and I’d play it well. I wouldn’t let them see me break.
    The next morning, the penthouse was filled with the aroma of coffee and freshly baked croissants.
    Surprisingly, Gage was in the kitchen, wearing a crisp white apron over his perfectly pressed shirt. He hummed a cheerful tune as he flipped pancakes.
    Caroline sat at the breakfast bar, drinking orange juice, glowing. “Good morning, Eliza!” she greeted cheerfully, looking up from her phone screen. “Gage made us a feast!”
    Gage turned around with a gentle smile. “Good morning, darling. Caroline specifically requested her favorite French toast. And you, my love—your usual berry smoothie.”
    He set the smoothie in front of me, then turned to Caroline and gently pushed a plate of French toast toward her. “Eat up, baby. You need your strength.”
    He came over to me and kissed my forehead. “Eliza, I’ll be working late at the hospital tonight. Big surgery, complex case. Don’t wait up for me.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
    “Of course, Gage,” I said softly. I reached up and smoothed his hair—a gesture I’d practiced a thousand times. “Be careful. Try to rest when you can.”
    I watched him leave, his handsome figure disappearing down the hallway. Caroline followed him to the door, waving goodbye. Then she turned around, a smug expression on her face, and walked back into the kitchen.
    Once they were both gone, I headed straight for Gage’s master bedroom. I pulled a small metal key from the bottom of my jewelry box. The lock clicked softly and swung open with a dull thud.
    I pushed the door open. The room was spotless, a perfect reflection of his obsession with tidiness. It smelled of Gage’s cologne, mixed with a hint of Caroline’s cheap perfume.
    I walked straight to the bed—the luxurious king-sized bed where they’d carried out their betrayal. I lifted the heavy mattress. Beneath it, a small velvet pouch was hidden. I found it. Caroline’s diary. Filled with her elegant handwriting, documenting every sordid detail.
    I started reading. Her words leaped off the page, each one a stab to my heart.
    “Gage’s ‘insomnia’ is such a brilliant excuse. Eliza is so naive! She actually believes it. She even buys him special tea! Haha! While she’s sleeping peacefully in the guest room, I’m in her master bedroom, in her bed, with her fiancé.” My hand tightened around the diary, fury rising.
    “Poor thing, always trying to be the perfect girlfriend, the supportive partner. Doesn’t she know Gage needs excitement, not some tame little perfumer? I’m what he really wants.”
    “He says I’m lively, fun. He says Eliza is… comfortable. Boring. He can’t wait for the wedding so he can finally be rid of her. Then this penthouse, his career, our baby… it’ll all be mine. All mine!”
    The more I read, the colder I felt. I recalled countless conversations with Caroline—her subtle barbs, her fake compliments.
    “Eliza, you’re so lucky to have a man like Gage. He’s so handsome and successful. But you know, men sometimes need a little passion. You’re just so calm, so grounded.”
    At the time, I’d brushed it off, thinking it was her own insecurity talking. Now I saw the truth behind her words. She wasn’t envious of me—she was studying me, waiting for her chance to take everything. She wanted to take everything from me.
    I was about to tear the diary to shreds when something else caught my eye. Hidden beneath the diary was a snow-white envelope with my name scrawled across it in hurried handwriting.
    I opened it. Despite my resolve, my fingers still trembled. Inside was a medical report.
    And an ultrasound photo. “Patient: Caroline Stafford.” Date: two weeks ago. “Estimated gestational age: 12 weeks.”
    My vision blurred. On the signature line, clearly visible: “Attending Physician: Gage Morrison.”

    The Penthouse Wife’s Ultimate Revenge Chapter 3

    Eliza Anderson’s POV:
    I stumbled out of the master bedroom, clutching the diary and the ultrasound photo tightly in my hands.
    I needed to be alone. I retreated to my own room, closed the door, and the lock clicked shut, as if sealing off the entire world.
    My legs gave out, and I slid to the floor, my back against the cold wall. I bit down hard on my lower lip—the taste of blood was the only thing that made me feel real.
    I slowly stood up and walked to the mirror. I tried to smile, to give myself some comfort, but my lips wouldn’t obey. The corners of my mouth trembled, then fell. I closed my eyes.
    In that moment, I knew—the Eliza I used to be was gone forever.
    A few hours later, I heard the familiar sound of the front door unlocking. Gage and Caroline were back. Their voices drifted down the hallway, light and cheerful.
    Gage walked in first, carrying a large insulated bag. “Darling Eliza, I’m home. I hope you ate something. I brought your favorite Thai curry, to make up for my recent absences.” He gave me that deliberately practiced apologetic smile.
    He opened the bag, and the rich aroma of coconut milk and spices filled the room.
    “I know there’s always something pulling me away lately,” he continued, arranging the containers on the dining table, “but I really want you to know how much I care.”
    “I’m not hungry, Gage. I don’t feel well.”
    “Oh, Eliza, you really should eat something,” Caroline chimed in, her voice laced with concern. She gestured toward the food on the table. “Gage went all the way out there just for you.”
    I ignored her. I pressed “send” on my phone, and a notification popped up on the screen: “Penthouse sale confirmed. Cash buyer, closing within 24 hours.”
    Gage’s smile froze. Caroline’s eyes widened. They both stared at my phone, then at me. Their usual composure was cracked with shock and confusion.
    “What… what is this, Eliza?” Gage’s voice was tight, with obvious anger.
    “I sold the penthouse,” I said calmly and clearly. “Cash buyer, closing tomorrow morning.” I stood up, my chair scraping harshly against the floor.
    I walked past their stunned faces and back to my room. As I passed the living room sofa, I saw it—my engagement ring, sparkling in the light.
    I remembered the day Gage proposed. He knelt before me, his eyes full of what I’d thought was love. “This ring,” he’d said, holding up the dazzling diamond, “is a symbol of my endless loyalty, my promise to spend my life with you, Eliza.” Those vows I’d once cherished now sounded like hollow lies.
    The next morning, I woke up early. My phone vibrated. A notification from Caroline’s social media. A photo. Her hand intertwined with Gage’s, my engagement ring glittering on her finger. The caption read: “Finally got the ring that’s mine! And a little one on the way! Can’t wait for our future, my love @GageMorrison.”
    I felt that familiar rage rise up again, but then my phone rang. It was Gage.
    “Eliza, what is the meaning of this?” His voice was tight with anger.
    “What meaning, Gage?” I asked calmly.
    “Caroline’s post! And the ring! Why is she wearing your ring?” he demanded.
    “She’s carrying your child, Gage,” I stated the obvious. “Maybe she feels entitled to it. Or maybe you gave it to her.”
    He stammered for a moment, then forced himself to sound composed. “Eliza, don’t be ridiculous. She… she’s just emotional. I let her try it on to calm her down. You know how sensitive women get when they’re pregnant.” His tone was condescending, dismissive. “It’s nothing. I’ll buy you a bigger one, a better one.”
    “That’s fine, Gage,” I said in a voice so cold it could freeze. “You two keep it. I don’t need it.” I hung up before he could say anything else.
    I looked at the email on my laptop. The penthouse closing documents. “Transaction complete.” A cold, triumphant smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. His promises of bigger rings, better lives—they all meant nothing. I’d cut everything off. He could keep those material possessions; I didn’t need them.
    I crumpled the engagement ring receipt into a ball and tossed it in the recycling bin. Then I called a taxi.
    Time to take back what’s mine.

    👉 CONTINUE READING

  • Our CEO Daddy! Triplets in a Mission by ferocearcadia

    Our CEO Daddy! Triplets in a Mission by ferocearcadia

    👉 READ NOW

    A reckless playboy CEO is forced to marry Harte, a quiet orphan, to save him from a dangerous mafia after his scandalous affair. Their cold marriage slowly turns complicated as buried emotions surface-but it all ends in heartbreak and divorce, with Harte walking away without revealing she is pregnant.

    What he doesn’t know is that she isn’t just carrying his child… she’s carrying triplets.

    👉 READ NOW

    Our CEO Daddy! Triplets in a Mission Chapter 1 The Playboy CEO

    Griffin’s cellphone rang repeatedly on the bedside table. Half-asleep, he reached for the device without even opening his eyes. Who the hell had the nerve to interrupt his sleep this early?
    “Hello-”
    Before Griffin could finish speaking, a voice loud enough to rival a megaphone blasted through the line.
    “Griffin, where are you? Did you forget that today is Mom and Dad’s 30th wedding anniversary? I went to your condo and your office, and you’re nowhere to be found!”
    Griffin grimaced and immediately pulled the phone away from his ear. “Jesus Christ, Harte. Lower your voice. Are you trying to blow out my eardrums?”
    “Get home right now! If you don’t come home this instant-”
    He didn’t bother waiting for her threat to finish. He already knew she’d just keep nagging until he got a headache.
    “I’m on my way,” he said quickly before ending the call.
    He rubbed his temples before glancing at the woman still fast asleep beside him. He’d spent the entire night f*ck*ng her-giving her a break only long enough before taking her again.
    Griffin got out of bed and picked up his clothes scattered across the floor. He got dressed without caring whether the woman woke up or not. He didn’t leave a message or even a goodbye. He simply walked out of the room and left her behind.
    The moment he stepped into the hotel lobby, the receptionist greeted him right away. The hotel belonged to his godfather Dawn, his father’s best friend, so the staff already knew Griffin by face.
    “Good morning, Sir Griffin,” the valet attendant greeted with a smile as he tossed Griffin the keys to his sports car. Griffin caught them easily before pulling out his wallet. He took out five thousand dollar and handed it over as a tip. The man gave a playful salute in return.
    Griffin climbed into the car and quickly drove off.
    While cruising down the highway, he noticed a white van that seemed to have been tailing him for a while now. To make sure, he stepped harder on the gas and swiftly overtook a red car ahead of him. Almost immediately, he saw the van speed up as well just to keep up with him.
    “What the f*ck is that? Are they after me?” he muttered to himself, his eyes fixed on the rearview mirror.
    But before he could make a move to shake them off, the white van suddenly turned in the opposite direction. Griffin frowned, wondering if it had all been a coincidence-or if the people inside had only been sizing him up.
    He finally arrived at the mansion after thirty minutes of driving. In the garage, he spotted his grandparents’ familiar cars-a sign that the whole family had already arrived.
    The Bowens had always made it a tradition to gather for Sunday lunch, and today was even more special because it was his parents’ 30th wedding anniversary.
    Griffin parked in the garage and quickly headed inside the mansion.
    “Good morning, Sir Griffin!” Cecelia, their longtime housekeeper, greeted him cheerfully.
    “Good morning, Ate Cecelia. You’re looking extra blooming today, huh?” he teased with a wink.
    Cecelia jokingly swatted at him with the broom she was holding, but Griffin dodged it easily while laughing.
    “You really are such a smooth talker!” Cecelia said with a laugh, pointing toward the kitchen. “Your mother’s been waiting for you. Go on now before she gets even madder at you.”
    Still chuckling, Griffin walked toward the kitchen and found his mother, Scarlett, pulling a tray out of the oven while wearing an apron. Even at fifty-four, she was still stunning and sophisticated. One of the qualities he looked for in a woman was someone like his mother.
    “Mmm… smells amazing,” he complimented, breathing in the aroma of whatever she had baked.
    Scarlett placed a hand on her hip and gave her son a serious look. “And where have you been? Lavender and Harte went to your condo, but you weren’t there.”
    Griffin laughed softly and stepped closer to hug his mother. “Mom, I went out to relax and unwind. Meridian is at the top worldwide, and I think I deserve to relax and unwind. I can’t spend all my time working.”
    Scarlett pointed the tongs she was holding at Griffin and narrowed her eyes at him. “I know exactly what you’ve been doing out there, son. One of these days, I wouldn’t be surprised if women start lining up outside this house claiming you got them pregnant. Or worse, someone might sue you and say you took advantage of her. Honey, why don’t you just get a girlfriend, settle into a serious relationship, and get married already?”
    “Mom, Mom… it’s family day, not lecture day,” he replied playfully as he grabbed the tray from her hands and set it down on the table. “I’ll go call everyone and tell them lunch is ready,” he added, quickly steering the conversation elsewhere. He was referring to his father, Darius, and his grandparents, who were currently relaxing by the pool area.
    He hurried out through the kitchen’s sliding door, leaving his mother shaking her head at his antics.
    He really did want a serious relationship. Who wouldn’t want to find the right person for them? But every time he tried dating, it always ended the same way. Most women were only after his money, and nearly every woman he went out with just wasn’t his type. There had been one relationship he genuinely took seriously, but she had chosen her career abroad over him and eventually broke things off.
    Griffin let out a quiet sigh. He was about to head toward his father and grandparents when he noticed Harte sitting by the edge of the pool.
    A smile spread across his face as he quietly approached her. Harte was the daughter of Greg, his father’s loyal assistant. Her mother had died giving birth to her, so she had grown up in their household ever since she was little. Griffin had practically watched her grow up. She had just graduated from college last month and was planning to work at Meridian as well.
    “I seriously don’t get his taste in women. If they’re not wearing pounds of makeup, then they’re completely insane,” Harte muttered to herself while absentmindedly plucking flower petals and dipping her feet into the pool.
    Griffin raised an eyebrow. Looks like Harte was annoyed with some guy.
    Maybe she had a crush on him?
    “So annoying! Out of all the men in the world, why did I have to fall for him?”
    Yep, he was right. She definitely liked a guy who probably liked someone else.
    Griffin grinned, another mischievous idea already forming in his head. He moved closer to Harte and, when the timing was perfect, suddenly tapped her shoulder.
    Harte whipped around in surprise, her eyes widening the moment she saw him. But before she could even say anything, Griffin shoved her straight into the pool.
    “Griffin!” Harte shouted furiously before completely disappearing underwater.
    “Why are you jumping in there? Haven’t you showered yet?” Griffin burst out laughing, clutching his stomach.
    The noise caught the attention of his father, Darius, as well as his grandparents. Harte’s father, Greg, even paused from grilling a large fish, though he merely shook his head and didn’t bother stepping in. Everyone in the family was already used to the two acting like cats and dogs whenever they were together. Griffin’s day never felt complete unless he found a way to tease her.
    “Get over here and I’ll shave that head of yours bald!” Harte snapped through gritted teeth as she quickly climbed out of the pool.
    But as Harte stepped onto the pool ladder, Griffin’s laughter slowly faded. His eyes drifted over her figure. The thin white dress she was wearing had turned nearly transparent from the water, clearly outlining the red underwear beneath it. Griffin swallowed hard as he caught sight of the curves of her body.
    He had always seen her as a kid-a little sister.
    He never realized she had grown into such a beautiful young woman.
    Because he was so distracted, Griffin didn’t notice Harte had already reached him. She quickly grabbed him by the hair and dragged him toward the edge of the pool.
    “Ow! Harte, what the hell! Ow! Ow!” he complained repeatedly while trying to pry her hand away. “Harte, stop it!”
    The moment she let him go, Harte flashed him a smug grin before kicking him hard, sending Griffin crashing straight into the water.

    Our CEO Daddy! Triplets in a Mission Chapter 2 Welcome Back

    Griffin grimaced as he roughly dried his wet hair with a towel. The only thing he wore was a white towel wrapped low around his waist, exposing his toned physique.
    “D*mn. She’s stronger than most men. Feels like she ripped half the hair off my head,” he muttered to himself, annoyed yet amused at the same time.
    But suddenly, he froze.
    The scene from earlier flashed through his mind again-the way Harte’s body had looked as she climbed out of the pool, the outline of the red fabric beneath her soaked white dress. The image refused to leave his head.
    Griffin shook his head and lightly slapped his own cheek. He went back to drying his hair before throwing on a simple black T-shirt and a pair of pants.
    When he went downstairs to the kitchen, he found his family already gathered around the table. The atmosphere was lively, filled with laughter and the mouthwatering smell of delicious food.
    He pulled out a chair beside his twin sister, Lavender, and sat down. One thing their mother, Scarlett, absolutely hated during family lunches was talking about work. So throughout the meal, their conversations stayed light and random.
    After eating, they all moved to the living room for dessert while watching Lavender’s newest television drama series.
    Unlike the rest of the family, his sister hadn’t followed in their parents’ footsteps. She had no interest in business whatsoever. So when she announced she wanted to enter show business and pursue acting, all they could do was support her.
    “Goodness, that slap looked painful, sweetheart. Your face didn’t swell up, did it?” his grandmother Elene asked dramatically and with concern after seeing Lavender’s character get slapped by the villain on screen.
    Lavender laughed and shook her head. “Grandma, we always ask permission from each other before filming scenes like that. Although it really hurt-you can tell, right? It makes the scene more effective for the audience.”
    While everyone watched the show, Griffin noticed Harte busy on her phone instead of paying attention to the television. A few moments later, she quietly stood up and slipped out of the living room with her head lowered.
    One of Griffin’s eyebrows lifted.
    He quickly got to his feet and followed her. Thanks to his long strides, he caught up to her near the garage.
    “You’re going somewhere?” he asked, making the young woman stop in her tracks.
    Harte quickly turned to look at him. “I’m just meeting someone at the convenience store. I’ll be back right away.”
    “Hmm… a friend?” Griffin didn’t know why he had suddenly become so interested in where she was going.
    “A former classmate,” she answered shortly before turning her back on him.
    Griffin watched Harte’s retreating figure as she walked out through the gate. He even saw her say something to the security guard before finally disappearing from sight.
    He headed back inside but didn’t return to the living room. Instead, he went straight to his room to grab his car keys. When he came back out to the garage, he signaled for the guard to open the gate before quickly climbing into his car.
    He drove fast and soon spotted Harte walking along the side of the road. A mischievous grin spread across his face before he repeatedly honked the horn at her.
    Griffin burst out laughing when Harte jumped in shock and nearly dropped her phone.
    At the same time Griffin rolled down the car window, Harte whipped around to glare at him, practically fuming with irritation. In pure annoyance, she picked up a rock almost the size of her head and raised it as if she were about to smash it against the hood of his sports car.
    “You’re seriously insane!” she shouted.
    Griffin blinked and immediately panicked. He quickly pulled the car over beside her.
    “Harte, don’t you dare!” he warned, leaning toward the open window. “Put that down. Get in the car.”
    Harte scoffed before violently tossing the rock onto the roadside. “And why would I get in there?”
    “I’m driving you wherever you’re going. Get inside already.” He opened the passenger door and pushed it wider with his foot. “The sun is freaking brutal, Harte. Just get in.”
    Harte glared at him for a few more seconds before finally walking around to the other side of the car and climbing in. She slammed the door shut on purpose, clearly making sure he felt how annoyed she was.
    “Hurry up. The person I’m meeting has been waiting for a while,” she snapped at him as if he were her personal chauffeur.
    If any other woman had spoken to him like that, he probably would’ve yelled at her-or kicked her straight out of the car.
    But this was Harte.
    The same way he treated his mother and his twin sister Lavender with respect, he treated Harte the same way. He might bully and tease her nonstop, but he would never allow anyone else to do the same to her.
    “Yes, Ma’am,” he replied sarcastically with a grin. He sped up and soon arrived at the convenience store she had mentioned.
    Harte unbuckled her seatbelt and quickly stepped out. Griffin immediately followed after her, making her eyebrows knit together.
    “I thought you were just giving me a ride?” She even crossed her arms over her chest. “Why are you following me?”
    “I’m buying something,” Griffin excused casually before stepping ahead to hold the door open for her.
    Just as the door swung open, a woman wearing sunglasses and a coat dress despite the blazing heat stepped out from inside the store. Griffin and Harte were about to walk past her when the woman removed her shades and suddenly blocked their path.
    “Oh my God, Griffin? Is that really you?” the woman exclaimed, her eyes lighting up the moment she saw him.
    Harte’s gaze shifted back and forth between the woman and Griffin, while Griffin himself frowned slightly, forcing a smile as he tried to remember where exactly he knew her from.
    “Ah, yes… and you are…?”
    The woman extended her hand toward him. “I’m Chelsea! We were blockmates in college! Don’t you remember me?”
    Griffin quickly took her hand and laughed. “Of course I remember you,” he lied smoothly, even though he genuinely had no clue who she was. “It’s been a while. How have you been?”
    “I’m doing great. I just got back to the New York,” the woman gushed excitedly, almost blushing.
    “Looks like she just got back too. You can tell from the outfit,” Harte muttered under her breath.
    Griffin overheard it and secretly smiled.
    “Oh, by the way, I’m throwing a welcome-back party. It’s also my birthday.” Chelsea hurriedly rummaged through her handbag before handing Griffin a calling card. “I’d love for you to come, if that’s okay. And here’s my calling card. Call me later, okay?”
    Harte suddenly fake-coughed, making Chelsea finally notice her. The woman’s brows slowly furrowed. “And this is…? Is she your girlfriend?”
    Griffin took the calling card. “She’s my little sister,” he answered quickly.
    Chelsea’s smile widened immediately after hearing that. “Oh, hi!” she greeted Harte before turning all her attention back to Griffin again. “I’m in a hurry. I wanted to talk longer, but I’m really hoping you’ll call me.”
    “Of course I will,” Griffin replied with a smile, openly flirting back.
    The woman waved goodbye before finally leaving.
    “No matter where you go, women just keep appearing around you,” Harte clicked her tongue before walking farther inside the convenience store.
    “But you didn’t see me approaching any woman,” Griffin defended himself immediately. “They’re the ones approaching me. I’m just being nice.”
    And honestly, it was true.
    He was never the one chasing women-they always came to him first. And with the kind of charm he had, who was he to refuse?
    “Harte!”
    Both of them turned toward the voice coming from the other side of the store. A man stood there, nearly as tall as Griffin. He looked like the nerdy type because of his glasses, but his muscular arms made it obvious he spent plenty of time at the gym.
    “You never said you were meeting a guy,” Griffin said, his tone suddenly serious. The playful grin on his face vanished instantly, replaced by narrowed eyes.
    “That’s because you never asked,” Harte replied before leaving him behind and walking straight toward the man.

    Our CEO Daddy! Triplets in a Mission Chapter 3 Mysterious White Van

    Griffin watched Harte as she walked toward the man, whose smile stretched from ear to ear. A humorless laugh escaped him when the guy suddenly pulled Harte into a hug-and what irritated him even more was that Harte didn’t push him away. She simply let it happen.
    He had never seen her this close to any guy before.
    This was the first time.
    An unfamiliar heat stirred in Griffin’s chest as he watched the two of them together.
    When the man noticed him staring, he whispered something into Harte’s ear that Griffin couldn’t hear. Harte glanced back at him, her brows instantly knitting together before she gestured with her chin for him to leave already and stop butting in.
    Annoyed, Griffin turned on his heel and left the two of them inside the store. He climbed into his car and sped all the way back to the mansion.
    The moment he arrived, he found his father, Darius, standing outside. The serious look on the older man’s face immediately made Griffin step out of the car and approach him.
    “Dad,” he called.
    Without saying a word, Darius handed his phone over and showed Griffin a text message.
    “They need you at the office. The new materials from Spain finally arrived. Check them yourself.”
    Griffin nodded in response. Even though he was still irritated by what he had seen at the convenience store, business came first.
    Darius gave his son a pat on the shoulder, and Griffin immediately headed inside to change into more formal clothes before driving straight to Meridian Investment Partners.
    His secretary, Madonna, greeted him the moment he stepped into the building lobby. The urgency on her face reflected how important the newly arrived shipment was.
    “Where are the items?” Griffin asked authoritatively without slowing his pace toward the elevator.
    “They’re already in your office, sir,” the woman replied, struggling to keep up with his long strides.
    Griffin loosened his necktie slightly before stepping into the elevator.
    The shipment consisted of high-grade obsidian and rare marble tiles that would be used for their newest luxury corporate skyscraper project in Bonifacio Global City. The materials would define the image of their premium office spaces, which was why Griffin insisted on personally inspecting the quality himself.
    The moment he entered his office, he immediately began examining the materials.
    This was already the supplier’s second shipment. He had rejected the first one outright because of its poor quality. Although this batch was noticeably better than the last, it still failed to meet his exacting standards.
    “Tell them to send all of this back. This is not what I asked for,” Griffin said sharply through clenched teeth as he pointed at the samples. “Tell them to find something that matches the sample I gave exactly. And if they can’t do that, then let them know we’ll start looking for a new supplier.”
    Madonna immediately pulled out her phone and called the Supplier Manager. Griffin could clearly hear the tension in their conversation while he waited for an answer.
    “They said they’ll try to find materials identical to the sample you provided, sir,” Madonna reported after ending the call. “But they’re asking for another month to produce it.”
    “Another d*mn month?! This project has already been delayed for two f*ck*ng months because of their incompetence!” Griffin snapped as he slammed himself back into his chair.
    Madonna quickly called the supplier again to relay Griffin’s ultimatum-half a month, or the contract was over.
    When she ended the call, a seductive smile slowly appeared on the secretary’s lips. She walked closer and perched herself on top of Griffin’s luxurious desk, deliberately showing off her long legs.
    “You look stressed, sir. Did something happen before you got here?” she asked sweetly.
    As she spoke, her hand slowly slid over her chest, gently caressing herself in front of him.
    Madonna had been working for him for two years. And during those two years, whenever Griffin lost his temper, she was always the one who calmed him down. He had never forced her into anything-she had been the one to make the first move and show interest in him.
    “Nothing happened,” Griffin answered stiffly.
    His eyes stayed fixed on Madonna’s hand as she slowly unbuttoned her blouse, revealing a black lace bra barely capable of containing her curves.
    Griffin’s restraint snapped instantly.
    He rose abruptly from his swivel chair and captured Madonna in a rough, hungry kiss. His hand gripped her chest firmly as he felt the rapid pounding of her heart beneath his palm.
    “Ah… S-Sir… easy…” Madonna whimpered breathlessly between kisses.
    But Griffin wasn’t in the mood to be gentle.
    He turned Madonna toward the desk and positioned her with her back facing him. With a rough tug, he pulled down her skirt and underwear.
    “Lean on the table. Don’t move,” he ordered in a low, commanding voice.
    When it was over, Griffin leaned back against his desk, finally feeling lighter, as though all the irritation from earlier-both from work and from Harte-had disappeared.
    He didn’t stay long at the office after that. Once his lust had subsided, he left everything for Madonna to handle and headed out. He wasn’t in the mood to return to the mansion, so he decided to drive straight back to his condo instead.
    As he drove along the dimly lit road, he noticed the familiar white van once again in his rearview mirror.
    It was the same vehicle he had seen earlier before heading to the mansion.
    “Persistent bastards,” he muttered as he stepped harder on the gas.
    But in an instant, the van sped up as well and slammed into the back of his sports car without warning. Griffin’s vehicle lurched violently out of balance, and before he could recover, the van rammed into his side again.
    Then came the rapid gunfire.
    The windows shattered as bullets tore through the body of his car. While trying to dodge the attack, Griffin lost control of the steering wheel completely. His car veered off the road and flipped several times before finally coming to a stop, completely wrecked.
    Griffin hung upside down inside the crushed vehicle.
    The world spun around him, and the only thing he could hear was the roaring of his own blood in his ears. He tried to move, but a blinding surge of pain shot through his leg.
    A sharp piece of metal from the mangled chassis had pierced through him. He could feel the warmth of blood steadily pouring from the wound.
    He fought to stay conscious, but darkness slowly began swallowing him whole.
    Before his eyes finally closed, he saw the silhouettes of several men stepping out of the white van and walking toward the wreckage.

    👉 CONTINUE READING

  • Divorcing My Alpha Husband For His Uncle by YOLO

    Divorcing My Alpha Husband For His Uncle by YOLO

    👉 READ NOW

    How to manage a cheating husband when he’s got a 3 year old child out of it?

    Althea’s world comes crashing down when she finds out her husband of five long years has been sleeping with her sister-in-law/best friend.

    Not only was she a defective, wolfless, and barren Luna, but one who couldn’t even handle her own marriage. Everything was against her, even life itself.

    So what would happen when she gets imprisoned by her pack for requesting divorce?

    Or when she tries to escape but gets hitched into a contract marriage to her greatest, but sexiest nightmare- Alpha Alaric Darkmoor

    Her husband’s estranged Uncle.

    A man she should never desire this badly while bearing a mating mark for another.

    Behind his “charming” reputation lies a deadly secret and a mate bond he never expected.

    Will Althea let herself get claimed yet again?

    Or would she rather nail herself to the wall if it would prevent her from falling into the arms of the one man her body so desperately craves?

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    Divorcing My Alpha Husband For His Uncle Chapter 1 The Betrayal

    ‎~Althea’s POV
    ‎
    ‎
    ‎”Shush… don’t wake our boy…”
    ‎
    ‎The words drifted through the slightly closed door, slicing through my chest. The pregnancy test I was holding slipped from my trembling fingers and fluttered soundlessly to the floor. ‎I clamped a shaky hand over my mouth, but the gasp still tore free, ripping through my lungs. My feet buckled, as I staggered back a step.
    ‎
    ‎What…what is happening? ‎Tears welled up instantly, blurring my vision until the corridor swam, I shook my head in disbelief. My knees went weak, and my body swayed as if the world had tilted without warning.
    ‎
    ‎No. How…how did I get here? ‎I backed the door, then faced it again in confusion. The test report is long forgotten on the floor as hot tears streamed down my cheeks as the memory crashed into me.
    ‎
    ‎~
    ‎
    ‎Today was my day. Our day.
    ‎
    ‎I was pregnant. ‎Just hours earlier, I had sat on the edge of the healer’s bed, my fingers digging into the fabric of my skirt as anxiety twisted low in my stomach. ‎Then she smiled at me, a gentle and knowing expression. She spoke of cycles and moon signs, of the life stirring inside me. My chest tightened painfully as her words replayed in my mind.
    ‎
    “You’re two weeks gone, Luna.”

    ‎Her words echoed in my ears even now, unreal and dazzling. I had walked out of the healer’s quarters clutching the test report like a miracle, my heart so full that it hurts. ‎I gave him everything. Nolan’s child. Our child.
    ‎
    ‎What have I done?

    ‎I shouldn’t have come here. ‎I steadied myself against the wall, my feet refusing to leave the spot. ‎I had only wanted Vespera to help me plan the surprise, my best friend. She’s a mother after all, she’d know what to do. ‎I imagined us whispering excitedly together planning a surprise reveal to Nolan, laughing over baby names the way we once laughed over girlhood dreams.
    ‎
    ‎That was why I came here first.
    ‎
    ‎I remembered hurrying through the pack estate, my steps light despite my nerves. Every breath I took filled me with renewed hope. ‎Until I reached her door, ‎at first, I thought I was mistaken, but a soft gasp slipped through the walls, followed by a low husky voice that was painfully familiar.
    ‎
    ‎My steps slowed instinctively. The air felt tight and heavier, pressing against my chest as it thudded loudly for no reason. Or so I thought. ‎I even told myself it was nothing. That I was tired and strained from the jog down here and that I was imagining things, but ‎then I heard another sound. A deep, same familiar breathless chuckle
    ‎
    ‎Then my heart sank, so deep that it sent a strange chill over my skin. ‎I moved closer, every instinct screaming at me to turn back even as my feet carried me forward, betraying me. They never listen, do they?
    ‎
    ‎I stopped before the door, my hand hovering just inches from the handle. Through the narrowed crack, I saw them.
    ‎
    ‎Nolan. ‎Vespera.
    ‎
    ‎Then I heard a crack. The sound of my soul breaking maybe. ‎The world shattered silently around me. ‎They were tangled together in her bed, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets, bare skin against bare skin. His hands were on her waist in a way I knew too well. ‎I couldn’t breathe. ‎My mouth just hung open with trembling lips, no words. Nothing.

    ‎Her fingers were clutching his shoulders as if she had every right to be there. Nolan’s face was fixed at the crook of her neck leaving kisses. ‎As he’d done to me just this morning. ‎The sight was so wrong that my mind initially rejected it. Refusing to name what my eyes clearly saw-My husband and ‎my best friend. Together?
    ‎
    ‎The betrayal pierced straight through me, sharp and merciless, like a long shard of cold glass driven into my heart. My breath came in short, shallow puffs, my chest burning as if I’d been running for miles. ‎I wanted to scream, to storm in and demand an explanation. To shatter the illusion with my voice. But, I couldn’t move. ‎While I stood frozen in the shadows, her voice came again- soft, in an airy moan as she stifled a giggle.
    ‎
    ‎”Be gentle… don’t make too much noise,” she murmured. “Be careful not to wake our precious boy.” ‎My stomach lurched violently as bile rose up my throat.

    Our… boy?
    Our boy…
    ‎
    ‎The words echoed in my head, over and over, until they drowned out everything else. Nausea surged up my throat, my vision narrowing. A child. Not only an affair. Not just his betrayal. Then it hit me, they’d been going on for years. ‎The boy everyone believed was my late brother-in-law’s son, the quiet child who called me Aunt with innocent eyes was Nolan’s flesh and blood.
    ‎
    ‎I tasted bile now. But still, the nightmare wasn’t done with me. ‎Nolan’s voice followed, calm and assured, as if he were promising her the world.
    ‎
    ‎”I’ll arrange everything soon,” he said. “He’ll be the heir. The only one. Don’t worry.” Vespera hummed in satisfaction.
    ‎
    ‎”I made sure of it,” Nolan continued, his words casual, yet cruel. “She won’t be a hindrance. I’ve been giving her contraceptives for years.”
    ‎
    ‎The corridor spun. ‎My vision went black with my ears ringing loudly in a deafening whoosh, I thought I might collapse. ‎Five years. ‎Five years of mockery, pitying looks, and my own silent shame for failing to conceive. ‎It was never my fault. ‎It had always been his wicked plan. ‎My hand pressed against my lower abdomen instinctively, terror and grief crashing into me all at once. The child inside me-my miracle-felt suddenly fragile, and unbearably precious.
    ‎
    ‎I stumbled backward. ‎I don’t remember deciding to leave. My body just moves on its own, finally retreating step by step, as if guided by an invincible force alone. ‎Each movement sent sharp pain, slicing through my chest. My breathing was erratic, my heart pounding wildly as the weight of it all crushed down on me. I couldn’t stop the flow of tears that had been going on for the past… I don’t know.
    ‎
    ‎The floor seemed too far away and the walls felt too close. But I kept moving, stumbling through the corridor with no destination in mind. Then an unbearable pain bloomed suddenly in my abdomen, very unforgiving and violent. I gasped, clutching myself as a warm terrifying sensation spread between my thighs.
    ‎
    ‎My legs buckled. No. ‎Not now. Please…
    ‎
    ‎Please, not my baby.
    ‎
    ‎The last thing I felt was the cold stone beneath my knees and the sound of my own heartbeat roaring in my ears. ‎Darkness surged up to claim me, ‎I didn’t fight it.
    ‎
    ‎And then…
    ‎
    ‎Nothing.

    Divorcing My Alpha Husband For His Uncle Chapter 2 Miscarriage

    ‎I woke to the steady beeping of a machine and the sharp sting in my arm. ‎The smell of antiseptic and the crushing weight of silence pressed down heavily on my chest. ‎For a moment, I didn’t remember where I was. The ceiling above me was plain white and unfamiliar. ‎I turned my head slightly and saw a thin tube connected to my arm, feeding clear liquid into my veins. That was where the sting came from.
    ‎
    ‎My body felt hollow, aching in a way that went deeper than flesh. Then the pain came. Not the physical kind-though it was there, as a dull, persistent throb low in my abdomen- but the other pain. The one that tore through me, so violently I couldn’t breathe. ‎Then the beeping grew restless and erratic.
    ‎
    ‎The sound of footsteps rushed closer, then the door was pushed open. The healer hurried to my side, her movements quick but hesitant and her expression was gentle, but grim. A look of pity crossed her eyes and that made my heart sink even before she said anything.

    ‎”My Luna…” she hesitated. “I’m sorry. The shock was too much. The child… could not be saved.”

    Her words came out softly, ‎but the impact was anything but soft. ‎It felt as though a clawed hand ripped straight through my chest, splitting my heart open. I gasped, clutching the sheets as agony surged through me in violent waves. My vision blurred instantly as tears spilled down my temples, soaking into the pillow beneath my head.
    ‎
    ‎Gone. ‎My baby was gone. ‎The little life I had carried for such a brief, precious moment. The only proof that I wasn’t broken, that I was worthy was gone, just like that. ‎A broken sound tore out of my throat before I could even stop it. I turned my face away, curling inward, in a ball, as if I could somehow contain the emptiness tearing me apart. ‎The healer just stood there, helplessly watching me break into a million pieces.
    ‎
    ‎Memories crashed into me all at once.
    ‎
    ‎The door.
    ‎The voices.
    ‎The bed. Their words.
    ‎
    ‎Our boy.
    ‎I’ve been giving her contraceptives for years. My hands shook badly.
    ‎
    ‎No.
    ‎
    ‎I couldn’t lie here. I wouldn’t let this be the end of it. ‎Nolan Darkmoon would look me in the eyes. He’d hear what he had done. To me, to us and to our child. ‎He’d see what he’d destroyed. ‎I forced myself upright despite the healer’s protest, my body screamed in pain as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. The ache that seared through my abdomen was sharp but it grounded me, anchoring me to something solid.
    ‎
    ‎Fury.
    ‎
    ‎I left the clinic wrapped in a cloak that felt far too heavy for my own fragile body. ‎Whisperers followed me as I passed through the pack grounds.
    ‎
    ‎”She lost the child…”
    ‎”No wolf, and no heir…”
    ‎”Poor Luna… or maybe cursed.”
    ‎
    ‎Some glances held looks of pity, while others held poorly hidden contempt, a few didn’t even bother hiding their satisfaction at all. ‎My spine stiffened with every step I took. Yes, I was wolfless from birth. But I lifted my chin anyway, refusing to bow under their stares, even as my heart bled with every of their murmured word. ‎I didn’t stop walking until I reached Vespera’s residence.
    ‎
    ‎And then-
    ‎
    ‎I froze. ‎The door opened and Nolan stepped out first, beside him was Vespera, and between them, held carefully, was the little boy. Their son, ‎they looked like a perfect little family straight out of a magazine. My breath hitched painfully as something twisted deep in my chest, ‎it should have been us. ‎The sight was so cruel, it seemed absurd. I swallowed forcefully.
    ‎
    ‎Vespera noticed me first. ‎Her eyes widened, and she gently released the boy’s hand, stepping toward me, concern etched on her beautiful face.
    ‎
    ‎”Althea,” she said softly. “Oh my goodness… are you alright? We heard you collapsed-”
    ‎
    ‎I laughed. ‎The sound was hollow, brittle, nothing like my joy-filled ones.
    ‎
    ‎”Don’t worry,” I said coldly. “I wouldn’t dare interrupt family time.”
    ‎
    ‎Her lips parted, her expression faltering for just a fraction of a second. Nolan stepped forward then, his face carefully composed, concern painted on it like a second skin.
    ‎
    ‎”Baby,” he said evenly. ‎The word nearly broke me all over again.

    ‎”This isn’t what you think.” ‎I looked at him-really looked at him-and something in me crumbled.
    ‎
    ‎”Isn’t it?” I asked quietly, my voice cracked. “Because it looks to me like my husband walking hand in hand with his lover and their child.”
    ‎
    ‎Vespera gasped softly, tears instantly pooling in her eyes.
    ‎
    ‎”Please don’t say things like that.” She pleaded, her voice quivering. “You’re misunderstanding everything. My marriage was miserable, Althea. You know that. Nolan has only ever helped me out of kindness.”
    ‎
    ‎She reached for my hand but I ripped them away. Nolan nodded, seizing the opportunity. “She’s my late brother’s wife. And the child is his son. I’m only taking care of my family.”
    ‎
    ‎As he spoke, he reached out and wrapped an arm around Vespera’s shoulders, pulling her gently against his side. To comfort her, the absurdity of it almost made me dizzy. Anger surged through me violently, hot, blinding, and overwhelming. My hand rose before I even realized it, trembling as I moved to strike him. ‎But it never reached him. ‎A firm grip closed around my wrist painfully.
    ‎
    ‎”Nolan,” his Beta said sharply, stepping between us, his eyes warning. “This isn’t appropriate.”
    ‎
    ‎He dropped my hand uselessly to my side and ‎Nolan’s gaze hardened.
    ‎
    ‎”Enough, Althea,” he said coldly. “Stop imagining things that never happened. All this pain you’re feeling is in your head. Don’t drag innocent people into your delusions.”
    ‎
    ‎So something inside me went utterly still. The final string of hope snapped neatly. ‎I looked at the man I had been utterly in love with for five long years. The man I had centered my existence around, and saw him clearly at last.
    ‎
    ‎A stranger.‎
    ‎Liar.‎
    ‎A cheating bastard.
    ‎A monster wrapped in authority and charm.
    ‎
    ‎The weight of silence in the courtyard rushed through my ears. ‎I knew what I was about to say next would shatter everything. ‎Us. And it was only just the beginning, but I didn’t care anymore.
    ‎
    ‎”I want a divorce.”

    Divorcing My Alpha Husband For His Uncle Chapter 3 Divorce

    ‎For the first time, Nolan looked surprised. His widened eyes stared at me in disbelief.
    ‎
    ‎”Wh…what?”

    ‎”I want a divorce.” My voice broke the quiet courtyard, it was like everyone present was holding their breath. For a heartbeat, no one spoke. Nolan’s expression was still frozen, not in anger, I didn’t even see any sign of hurt and it broke me.
    ‎
    ‎The brief crack of surprise vanished almost instantly from his face, replaced by a calm so controlled it made my skin crawl. Then he smiled, the way I used to drool over. But now I see it, it never reached his eyes, it was all measured and calculated. Why didnt I see it before?
    ‎
    ‎”Take her back to the Alpha’s residence,” Nolan said, his voice smooth and authoritative in that Alpha manner. “My Luna isn’t feeling well.”
    ‎
    ‎I stiffened. “I’m staying right here.”
    ‎
    ‎Vespera moved first, stepping closer with soft concern painted perfectly across her face, but her eyes spoke otherwise. “Althea, please,” she said gently. “You’ve been through so much. Losing a child would break anyone. You shouldn’t be making such decisions in this state.”
    ‎
    ‎Her hand hovered near my arm as if she might steady me. ‎I flinched away on instinct and watched as Nolan’s gaze swept the onlookers-elders, guards, servants, pack members- their gazes lingering too long. “You all heard the healer,” he said coolly. “Shock, emotional instability. She needs rest, not conflict.”
    ‎
    ‎The words settled over the crowd like a judge’s verdict. His words were law, apparently, and I was the one who fed that to him. ‎Some nodded, while others looked away. ‎My body shook in exhaustion as I felt the shift immediately, the subtle reordering of loyalty. My grief, my pain, turned into a convenient weakness he could use.
    ‎
    ‎”I’m not unstable,” I said, my voice steady despite the tremor in my hands. “I know exactly what I’m asking for.”
    ‎
    ‎Nolan finally looked directly at me with a tight smile. “You don’t.”
    ‎
    ‎He then turned to Vespera. “Take the child inside.”
    ‎
    ‎She hesitated, eyes flickering to me with something that looked almost like triumph, before guiding the boy away. The moment they disappeared, Nolan gestured toward the inner hall.
    ‎
    ‎”Come,” he said. “We’ll discuss this privately.”
    ‎
    ‎The door closed behind us with a soft thud. Silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. Nolan loosened his cuffs slowly, as if we were about to engage in pack finances instead of the ruin of my life. And to think I used to find that sexy.
    ‎
    ‎”You saw things you shouldn’t have,” he started at last. “And now you’re unraveling.”
    ‎
    ‎I laughed quietly. “Don’t insult me by pretending, dear husband.”
    ‎
    ‎He spoke, not bothering to deny it. ‎”Yes,” Nolan said flatly, as if already tired of the conversation which made me scoff.
    ‎
    ‎”I’ve been with Vespera for years. The boy is mine and he’ll inherit this pack.”
    ‎
    ‎He just said those words carelessly, without shame. Like facts anyone would accept. ‎My chest tightened. “You let everyone believe he was your brother’s.”
    ‎
    ‎”I let them believe what was convenient.”
    ‎
    ‎”And me?” My nails dig into my palms. “What was I supposed to believe?”
    ‎
    ‎He studied me for a moment, expression distant but something that looked like guilt crossed his eyes briefly.
    ‎
    ‎”You were always supposed to do what you’ve always done, Althea. Smile, manage the pack, and be useful.”
    ‎
    ‎”Useful,” I repeated, the word clawing out of my throat. “Is that all I was to you”?
    ‎
    ‎”Yes.” He stated matter-of-factly.
    ‎
    ‎The simplicity of it hurts more than the rage ever could.
    ‎
    ‎”Then why,” I asked hoarsely, “why did I never conceive?” I knew what I heard, but it’s like a part of me chose to still have little faith in him. ‎He wouldn’t do something so horrible like that, not to me.
    ‎
    ‎Something like amusement flickered across his face. Like he was reminiscing.
    ‎
    ‎”Because I made sure you didn’t,” Nolan said. “Moonroot extract. Although mild, and tasteless, but very potent. The healer never even noticed!”
    ‎
    ‎He jollied like a scientist drunk on his favorite experiment. The room tilted, my arms catching air as I tried to steady myself.
    ‎
    ‎”You-” My breath caught. “You drugged me.”
    ‎
    ‎”I controlled variables,” he corrected. “A wolfless Luna carrying an Alpha’s heir would have complicated things.”
    ‎
    ‎”No one loves to be a laughing stock, Althea. I mean…except you ofcourse.” He shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. ‎I stared at him, the pieces clicking together with sickening clarity. Five years. Five years of the shame I carried alone. Why didn’t I notice? He was never bothered about my not being able to get pregnant.
    ‎
    ‎He was just… there. Nutting inside me while I secretly hoped it would work each time we made love. He watched it register, then added calmly, “You were never meant to bear a child, Althea.”
    ‎
    ‎My vision blurred, the tears I had been holding so forcefully spilled, but he continued relentlessly.
    ‎
    ‎”You’re just a decoration,” he said. “A little side piece to make me look good. A wolfless body meant for appearance and pleasure, not legacy.”
    ‎
    ‎The words sliced through me one after another, so cruel.
    ‎
    ‎”Useless,” he went on and I just stood there. My legs are doing that thing it always does, refusing to let me flee. “Except for what you represent.”
    ‎
    ‎I finally took a step back, my spine hitting the table behind me.
    ‎
    ‎”You loved her,” I said, it wasn’t a question, more like to myself.
    ‎
    ‎Vespera never had to fight. Nolan had already chosen her.
    ‎
    ‎”Yes,” Nolan replied without hesitation, pride shining in those brown eyes I despise now.
    ‎
    ‎”Vespera is the woman I love.”
    ‎
    ‎”And me?” Why do I keep asking these when I already know the answer? Maybe a little part of me still hopes. Even if it was just a little, affection.
    ‎
    ‎”I chose you because you weren’t a threat,” he said. “For your bloodline and obedience. Your status helped me become Alpha remember?”
    ‎
    ‎I shook my head, something breaking loose in my chest. “All those years- you let me believe…”
    ‎
    ‎”Oh come on now Althea,” he tsked. “Don’t tell me you actually believed you were capable of being loved.” He cut in.
    ‎
    ‎”Sweetie, that was your delusions. And those don’t get you anywhere.”
    ‎
    ‎I swallowed hard. “I’m asking for a divorce.”
    ‎
    ‎His expression finally hardened.
    ‎
    ‎”And I said, No.”
    ‎
    ‎”You can’t force me-”
    ‎
    ‎”I can,” Nolan declared calmly. “Mate bond law forbids dissolution without the Alpha’s consent. The pack needs stability. And I’m the Alpha.”
    ‎
    ‎”You’re keeping me against my will.”
    ‎
    ‎”I’m keeping what’s mine.”
    ‎
    ‎Those words sent a chill through me.
    ‎
    ‎”Letting you go would weaken my rule,” he continued, stepping closer to me while I planted my back firmly on the table. ” And frankly…” he paused, eyes narrowing, looking down my body. “I don’t want to.”
    ‎
    ‎I felt something inside me collapse completely. The last fragile hope, some foolish belief that he might let me walk away, died right there. ‎I don’t want to be a prisoner here, to him. He stepped even closer, invading my space. I could smell him, the once familiar comforting smell now made my stomach churn.
    ‎
    ‎”You should be grateful,” Nolan said quietly. “A woman like you had no right to ask for more.”
    ‎
    ‎The sentence struck deeper than a blow and before I could speak, the door opened and two guards stood waiting, with their heads bowed. ‎My eyes frantically pleaded with Nolan’s as I shook my head.
    ‎
    ‎”Escort my Luna to her quarters,” Nolan ordered. “Don’t let her leave them, for her own protection.”
    ‎
    ‎Hands closed around my arms, not roughly, but firm enough to contain my thrashing and twisting.
    ‎
    ‎”Nolan- Nolan!”
    ‎
    ‎I screamed as they dragged me away, my voice cracking as more tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. ‎He just sent a little wave before turning his back on me, because there was nothing left to see. ‎And I understood with chilling clarity.

    This wasn’t a marriage anymore.‎

    ‎It was a cage.

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  • Claimed by My Father’s Rival by 4Rose

    Claimed by My Father's Rival by 4Rose

    👉 READ NOW

    Five years ago, I shattered my father’s skull and vanished into the shadows. To the world, I was a ghost. To the medical school, just a quiet student. To the most ruthless mafia Don in New York? I was the ultimate prize.
    Killian O’Connor is a monster in a bespoke suit. Cold. Lethal. Dominant. He took over the city with blood on his hands and an iron rule: No drugs, no mercy, and no loose ends. My father murdered his little sister. Now, Killian has come to collect his debt.
    He didn’t just break into my clinic on a rainy midnight-he pinned me to the exam table, stripped away my forged identity, and dangled my family’s lives on a string.
    “You are my hostage now, little Moretti,” his dark voice purred against my ear, his large hand ripping through my clothes without an ounce of pity. “Your freedom, your safety, and your body… all belong to me.”
    I promised myself I would do anything to survive. I gave him my father’s secret list of political puppets. I let him lock me in his golden cage. I even let him press his cold steel knife-and his scalding lips-against my skin.
    In his subterranean hell, I was supposed to be his enemy. So why does his cruel possession feel like the only safe haven I’ve ever known?
    “Claimed by My Father’s Rival” is a dark, angsty mafia romance with explicit steam, a possessive hero who’ll burn the world for his woman, and a strong heroine with a dark secret. Guaranteed HEA.

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    Claimed by My Father’s Rival Chapter 1 Found at Last

    Flashback, age fifteen
    “…When morning breaks, I’ll keep you safe beside me…”
    I sat on the carpet with my eyes closed, listening to the song through my earbuds, my brown hair still damp and fragrant with lemon-scented shampoo, spread loose over my shoulders.
    This was the one brief, precious stretch of the day when I didn’t have to hold myself together.
    Even turning a page sent a spike of pain through my wrist. Courtesy of my father – the buckle-shaped bruise from last week hadn’t healed yet, and last night had added a fresh one. I glanced up at the mirror. A bruise the color of a storm cloud bloomed across my forehead. I dabbed on a thin layer of iodine, and the second it grazed the swollen skin, I hissed and sucked in a breath.
    “Bang!”
    A crash exploded from downstairs – the sound of a door slamming so hard it hit the wall.
    The man they called my father – Carmine Moretti – was home.
    I could gauge exactly how much he’d had to drink just from the sound of that door. And there was no mistaking it: this was the worst he’d been in six months.
    My father had ruled this city’s underworld for a decade. Lately, word was he’d run into a bit of “trouble” – some hot-headed upstart, avenging a dead sister, was chewing through his territory.
    I’d overheard that much from behind the staircase railing. Not that they ever bothered to lower their voices around me. Why would an elephant bother hiding anything from an ant?
    I scrambled to shove the book and earbuds out of sight. Anything that made it look like I was enjoying myself became kindling for his temper. I hated how practiced I’d become at hiding it.
    Please, I begged the empty air. Let tonight pass quietly.
    Tears were already gathering.
    Downstairs, my mother’s voice rang out, falsely bright: “Carmine, you’re home-”
    The words never finished. A sharp crack of a slap cut her off.
    “Shut your mouth, you useless bitch.”
    “No!” My mother’s cry was short, cut off almost as soon as it started.
    Then came the thudding – dull, heavy, one after another, tangled with the slur of my father’s curses.
    Bile rose in my throat. Cold sweat slid down my forehead, and my hands went numb and icy.
    For one unbearable second, I wanted to crawl under the desk and disappear.
    No. I couldn’t. He’d kill her.
    Fifteen years old, and was I still that child who only knew how to hide? I bolted out of my room, ducking first into my sister Mia’s. Six-year-old Mia was fast asleep, clutching her stuffed animal. I slipped a pair of noise-canceling earmuffs over her ears, then ran downstairs.
    I smelled the blood before I even reached the living room.
    My father’s knee was pinning my mother’s spine to the floor. One hand fisted in her hair, slamming her head against the tile again and again, blood already spreading across the grout lines. As if that weren’t enough to satisfy him, his other fist came down on her back – one dull, heavy blow after another.
    At first my mother screamed. Before long, all that was left was a broken, breathless rasp from somewhere deep in her throat.
    “Dad… please stop… Mom’s going to die…” My lips trembled as I clung to the table for support.
    He didn’t even look at me. I was invisible to him right now – I’d only become his next target once he’d finished with her.
    My fingers moved without thought across the tabletop and closed around something heavy and cold – a brass ashtray.
    My heart lurched.
    Maybe. Maybe this could be the night this nightmare ended.
    I closed my eyes, took one step forward, and swung the ashtray as hard as I could into the back of his skull-

    ***
    Present, age twenty
    A crack of thunder yanked me out of that five-year-old abyss.
    I looked up. Rain hammered the window like it had gone mad, and it had been coming down for hours now. Every storm dragged me back to that blood-soaked night. I shook my head and slotted the hemostat back into the sterilizer tray.
    I was studying pre-nursing at community college – straight A’s. My professor had tried more than once to talk me into transferring to a four-year state program, had even lined up a scholarship for me. I turned her down every time.
    I wanted a better school. But only a place this overcrowded, this forgettable, was safe enough. The Morettis could scour the whole East Coast and never think to look here.
    To me, safety mattered more than anything. All I wanted was for Mom and Mia to stay alive, and to stay together.
    Classes in the day, the clinic in the afternoon, home with them in the evening. Tight on money, but steady. A resident once or twice had asked me out for coffee. I always turned them down. I didn’t dare. Someone like me – someone the past could swallow whole at any moment – didn’t get to fall in love.
    Mia had asked me once why I never went on dates. I’d lied and told her I was saving up to buy her headphones. She believed me.
    The new mint-green pair sat in my canvas bag right now, bought with this month’s paycheck. If it weren’t for this storm, she’d already be wearing them.
    Just picturing her smile put a little life back into my legs after a full day on my feet.
    A car pulled up outside, its headlights sweeping the window and setting off every alarm bell in my body. Five years of running had taught me to bristle at anything that disturbed the stillness. Most of the time, it turned out to be nothing but my own paranoia.
    Mia always told me, Sis, you’re too jumpy.
    She’d been too young to remember how terrifying our father really was. Besides – what was the harm in being careful?
    I slipped behind the curtain and fixed my eyes on the car.
    No one got out. A few minutes later, it pulled away, leaving nothing but rain under the streetlight. I let out a breath. Just some poor soul who’d gotten the wrong address. Nobody ran a clinic out here at midnight – not unless they had a doctor’s private number.
    I turned back to the exam room and went on packing up the instruments.
    Crash-
    The glass in the clinic door shattered in an instant, and the door was kicked open, letting in a gust of cold, rain-soaked air.
    That same car sat outside, its high beams blazing straight through the doorway, blinding me. Silhouetted against the light stood a tall figure.
    I raised a hand to shield my eyes, still unable to make out his face – only that two eyes had fixed on me and refused to look away.
    He stepped inside, boots crunching over broken glass with every stride, and with each step closer, the thick copper smell of blood filled the clinic.
    He stopped a yard away. Every hair on my body stood on end.
    Damn it.
    I snatched a scalpel from the tray and backed against the wall – an instinct hard-wired into me after five years on the run. I studied him: too tall, a black suit stretched taut over a powerful frame, collar loosened, a bead of water tracing the line of his jaw.
    He stood there, a yard away, and his eyes – dark, unreadable – swept over me the way a predator looks over something it already owns.
    “The Moretti heiress,” a cold curve tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You’ve been a hell of a lot of trouble to find.”
    -So. Found at last.

    Claimed by My Father’s Rival Chapter 2 Hostage

    Sloane’s POV
    Was he one of my father’s men?
    I studied him more closely – a handsome, unfamiliar face. His suit, soaked as it was, was clearly expensive, tailored. The watch on his wrist was a limited edition.
    I knew my father. He never spent that kind of money on anyone who worked for him.
    “Who are you?” I gritted out, and the moment his attention flickered, I struck – the scalpel aimed at the side of his throat.
    I wasn’t trying to kill him. Just to buy myself a window to run.
    Everything blurred. His hand closed around my wrist before I even saw it move. I drove a knee toward his ribs; he caught it against his thigh and shoved it back, and my knee buckled under the force, nearly folding.
    Every technique I’d ever prided myself on meant nothing against him.
    He held my wrist and, almost lazily, guided the blade closer to his own throat – close enough to graze his collar.
    “You-” My eyes went wide.
    “Not really a girl’s toy,” he said, twisting my wrist until the scalpel clattered to the floor, “especially not in front of me.”
    “Who the hell are you?” I demanded, and in the next breath my arm was wrenched behind my back and I was pinned face-down over the desk, the edge biting into my hip hard enough to knock a groan out of me.
    He leaned down, his body large over mine, his breath hot against my ear, and gooseflesh rose along my neck. I braced my forearms and tried to push up; he pressed me flat again. This time harder – my shoulder slammed into a file folder, and I gasped.
    “Care to try a different move?” he murmured, looking down at me like I was some minor entertainment. “Let’s see what the Morettis actually taught you.”
    Inwardly, I scoffed. This wasn’t one of my father’s men. My father would have killed me outright – he wouldn’t have the patience for this cat-and-mouse routine.
    “Killian O’Connor.” He spared me the trouble of guessing. “Perhaps you’ve heard the name.”
    Cold sweat beaded on my forehead. Of course I’d heard it. Heir to the O’Connor family. Five years ago, his sister had died at my father’s hands, and from that day on, the blood feud between our families had been carved in stone – nothing left to bridge it.
    “I’m not a Moretti anymore. Let go of me.” I struggled against the desk. “Taking me does nothing to them.”
    “Sure it doesn’t,” Killian said with a cold laugh. “Though that old bastard would probably rather carve you up himself – considering five years ago, thanks to you, he spent a week in the hospital before he crawled back from the edge of dead.”
    “Then why me?” I was still struggling.
    The weight on my back pressed down harder, his patience visibly thinning. “Keep moving, and I can’t promise they’ll keep smiling like this.”
    A Polaroid dropped in front of my face.
    I looked down, and my mind went white with static.
    My mother, at the stove. Mia beside her, grinning ear to ear. The photograph had gone soft and wrinkled from the rain, the edges blurred – but I recognized the apartment instantly. Ours.
    I stopped fighting.
    He could have pressed that scalpel to my throat right then, and I wouldn’t have dared resist.
    …
    The blindfold was torn off without ceremony. The light was blinding.
    I raised a hand against the glare, and it took a few seconds before the room came into focus. Small. Bulletproof glass sealed every wall, reflecting nothing back at me but my own blurred outline – no trace of what lay beyond.
    Killian had changed out of his soaked suit and now sat across from me on the sofa, a glass of whiskey turning slowly in his hand. His shirtsleeves were rolled up carelessly, veins standing out along his forearm.
    I glanced down at the iron shackles around my ankles. Pointless, really. Even without them, there was nowhere for me to run.
    He took a sip. “Welcome,” he said, “to being my guest.”
    I bit my lip and said nothing, my mind racing through everything I knew about this man.
    Five years ago, my father had dismissed him as some “reckless kid,” even as he’d already begun gnawing away at Moretti territory. Three years ago, at twenty-four, he’d made his name in a single night – dropping his own traitor uncle, along with a few hundred of the man’s men, straight into the ocean. After that, no one inside the O’Connor family dared to challenge him again. Seven ports along the southeast coast, and every ounce of the black-market trade that ran through them, belonged to him alone.
    Four of those seven ports had once flown Moretti colors.
    The one thing he never touched was drugs. Any man under him caught so much as sampling it lost a hand, or a foot. In this world, that rule made him something close to an anomaly. Rumor had it, it had something to do with his dead sister.
    I understood the blood feud between him and my family – his sister had died by my father’s hand. But if he wanted vengeance, my father was the one to bleed for it. Why me? I was the daughter who’d fled the family. My own father would be thrilled to hear I’d died out here.
    “You’re useful to me,” he said, as if he’d read the question straight off my face.
    “Useful how?”
    “I don’t like wasting time,” he said, tapping a finger against the rim of his glass. “The Morettis have connections buried in the government, in every other family in this business. I imagine you know quite a few names.”
    I drew a slow breath, forcing myself to think past the fear. He wasn’t wrong. Those names – I’d grown up hearing them, knew them better than I knew my own.
    “Give me the list.” He raised his glass toward me, almost a toast. “You managed to disappear from your father’s manhunt for five years. You clearly know what serves you best.”
    I thought of a headline from last month’s Financial Times – federal regulators freezing three of O’Connor’s offshore accounts, launching a full audit. That kind of investigation could drag on for as long as the government wanted it to, and it was more than enough to choke his cash flow dry.
    I’d suspected it the moment I read it: my father’s fingerprints, all over it. He couldn’t take back his territory, so he’d make sure his enemy couldn’t enjoy the spoils either.
    “You understand now, why I came for you.”
    His gaze slid from my face down to the shackles at my ankles.
    “And frankly, I’m curious. If Carmine found out the daughter he beat half to death five years ago wasn’t just alive, but had sold out every card he was holding to the man who wants him dead – I wonder what his face would look like.”
    I forced my voice level, already calculating what this bargaining chip might be worth.
    “If I hand you a network the Morettis spent half a lifetime building – what do I get in return?”
    He set the glass down, and his eyes cut into me like a blade. “Sweetheart, do you honestly think you’re in a position to negotiate?”
    “I do.” I clenched my fists and laid out my terms. “I’ll give you the list – more than you asked for, even. But I have conditions. Conditions that cost you nothing.”
    He tipped his chin up slightly, a signal to continue.
    “You guarantee my mother’s and my sister’s safety. Don’t drag them into any of this.” I held out one hand, palm up. “And give me a phone. I need to tell them I’m alive.”
    Killian rose, crossed the room, and tipped my chin up with two fingers, forcing my head back.
    He was too tall, too close. My neck strained to its limit.
    Our eyes locked. A faint smile touched his mouth, and his thumb brushed over my bottom lip. “Direct. I like that. But the O’Connor family doesn’t deal in verbal agreements. As of now, you’re my hostage. Your freedom – your body – all of it belongs to me.”
    He let go, pulled a phone from his pocket, and dropped it in my lap. “Speaker.”
    I grabbed it and dialed home.
    “Hello?” My mother’s voice, and behind it, Mia’s chatter.
    “It’s me, Mom.” My eyes stung. I forced the tremor out of my throat.
    “Sloane? Why aren’t you home yet?” A pause. “Whose number is this?”
    “My phone died. I borrowed a coworker’s. Mom, the clinic’s sending me to a conference last-minute – I’m leaving tonight, might be gone a few days.” It was a lie I’d used twice before this year; convincing enough.
    “So sudden?” A pause on the other end. “Sweetheart, is this about your father-”
    “No, of course not.” I cut her off, softening my voice. “He can’t find us. Anyway – Mia’s headphones, I’ll bring them home with me. The color she wanted.”
    A muffled cheer came through the line.
    That was when Killian leaned in without warning. His hand slid beneath my shirt, and with a sharp snap, my bra clasp gave way. I went rigid, breath catching in my throat, my fingers tightening around the phone as I forced the gasp back down.
    I looked down and watched his hands – two hot, coiling things – slide from my back to the front, closing over my breasts, kneading without rhythm or mercy. Every inch of my skin broke out in a shiver.
    His mouth found my ear. “Don’t move,” he murmured. “Or your mother will hear.”
    On the other end, my mother kept talking – some last piece of advice. My ears burned, my mind went blank, and I bit down hard on my tongue, using the pain to hold on to whatever control I had left.
    “Mom, I have to pack.”
    “Sis-!” Mia’s voice cut in, like she had something to say.
    Right as her voice came through the speaker, Killian’s fingers pinched the peak of my breast, deliberate, precise.
    I sucked in a breath and forced the words out fast: “Mia… mm… I’ll see you when I’m home, okay – bye!”
    I nearly slammed my thumb down on the call-end button – one more second and I had no idea what sound would have come out of me instead.
    That devil leaned in close again, his voice thick with amusement. “I told you. Your body belongs to me too. And this – this is only the beginning.”

    Claimed by My Father’s Rival Chapter 3 Boxes

    Sloane’s POV
    “Don’t drag them into this.” I pressed my hand over his, stilling it where it still moved beneath my shirt, and forced a breath into my lungs. “I thought you meant to keep your word.”
    “That depends on how well you behave.” Killian didn’t stop.
    Two knocks broke the moment. I nearly sagged with relief.
    “Come in.” Killian withdrew his hand from beneath my shirt, lingering a moment longer at my waist, thumb and forefinger giving one last, deliberate pinch.
    Only once his warmth had fully left my skin did I dare breathe again.
    A woman in a dark uniform entered, head bowed, shoulders drawn in on themselves. “Don, the room’s ready. I’ll take Miss Sloane there now.”
    “Go.” Killian walked back to the sofa and sat.
    The maid knelt and unlocked the shackles at my ankles, then gestured toward the door.
    I forced myself upright and reached to straighten my soaked shirt – the bra clasp was beyond repair, the fabric bunched uselessly against my chest, impossible to smooth into any kind of dignity. I made myself walk to the door anyway. I would not let him see anything more than what he’d already taken.
    The moment I stepped through the doorway, I understood exactly where I was.
    An alloy corridor stretched out ahead, no end in sight, sterile as an operating room. Along both sides ran a row of one-way glass cells. I glanced back once – Killian was still seated where I’d left him, glass in hand, lost in some thought of his own.
    The maid led the way, her pace unhurried enough that I couldn’t help but see everything on either side of me.
    In the cell to my left, a man in port-worker’s overalls hung suspended by chains, his toes barely grazing the floor, his face swollen a deep, bruised purple.
    Across from him, another man – reduced to nothing but skin over bone – huddled in a corner, staring at the floor with hollow, unseeing eyes.
    Further on, a cell that had just finished its work: blood sprayed across the inside of the glass, a body slumped over a steel stool, flayed raw. A guard hosed the floor down, rinsing the blood away in thin red streams.
    Nearly every room staged its own horror.
    “You’re the first one to walk out of a ‘Box’ without a mark on you,” the maid said, a quick glance flicking toward me before dropping away again.
    “Box?” I repeated the word. “You call these – these chambers of hell – boxes?”
    “Yes, miss.” Her voice dropped even lower. “It’s the Don’s word for them.”
    I walked on in silence.
    I’d seen how my father punished his enemies and his traitors – pure savagery, violence with no shape to it, nothing but rage looking for a place to land. This was different. The clean corridor, the deliberate order of it all – this felt less like punishment and more like specimens laid out behind glass. That kind of clean, methodical cruelty chilled me far more than anything my father had ever done.
    My steps faltered.
    “How could she-” My hand flew to my mouth before I even registered the thought.
    Through the glass, I recognized the woman inside – a federal prosecutor I’d seen countless times on the evening news, always composed, always sharp, carrying an authority that brooked no argument.
    Yet here she was inside the interrogation room, her tailored suit cast aside, wearing nothing but a torn white shirt with lace panties hanging from one ankle. Several naked men were gang-raping her. One forced her head down, thrusting himself fully into her mouth as her saliva spilled onto the floor. Another held her by the waist, sneering as he drove brutally into her lower body. The others crowded around her, hands roaming freely, relentlessly tearing through her sensitive spots.
    Multiple cameras and studio lights were set up nearby, recording every angle of the nightmare in agonizing clarity.
    What unsettled me most wasn’t the violence itself. It was her eyes. There was no fight left in them – only a kind of hollowed-out compliance, as if whatever had made her her had already been methodically taken apart.
    I’d watched her on television just two days ago, delivering a verdict with absolute conviction.
    The maid saw me stop and offered a quiet explanation. “Anyone who crosses the Don – death is the mercy. The Don says stripping someone like her of her pride is worth a thousand times more than simply killing her.”
    “He’s insane.” My stomach lurched violently. “An absolute monster.”
    I didn’t look toward either side again. I kept my head down and followed the maid until we reached a door at the top floor.
    It was a cage – an obscenely beautiful one. A massive, antique four-poster bed dominated the center of the room. Electric flames flickered in a fireplace nearby. Deep crimson drapes hung from the canopy all the way to the carpet. Four narrow, Gothic-arched windows had been sealed shut with steel plating – no sunlight would ever reach this room. Not even a breath of wind.
    I turned to the maid. “I’m nobody. Why would he need a cage this reinforced just to hold me? Not even special forces could get out of a room like this.”
    She hesitated, her gaze sweeping the dim, opulent room before finally landing on my soaked shirt. She didn’t answer my question – only said, quietly, “Miss Sloane, the door won’t be locked. But I wouldn’t recommend stepping outside it. This place is dangerous.”
    There was something like pity in her eyes. It was the only warmth I’d felt since walking into this hell.
    Instinct made the decision for me before I could think it through.
    I dropped to my knees on the heavy carpet and seized her hand. “Please. Help me.”
    “My mother is sick. My sister has no one else. I can’t die here.” I clung to her, begging.
    Fear and something like anguish crossed her face. She tried to pull away; I held on tighter.
    “Please. I’m only twenty. I’ve never hurt anyone.”
    Her eyes darted around the room, as if the walls themselves might be watching. Then she leaned in close and murmured, so quietly I almost missed it: “Tonight, three a.m. Wait here.”
    The instant the words left her mouth, she shoved me away, her voice rising sharply: “You’d best behave and give up on that idea.”
    She turned and walked out. The heavy wooden door swung shut behind her.
    I sank to the carpet, the strength that had held me upright all night finally giving out. The electric fire cast a trembling orange light across the drapes – flickering, flickering.
    If I could get out of here, I would take my mother and Mia and run to the ends of the earth.
    If I could just get out.

    👉 CONTINUE READING

  • Guest User: My Marriage’s Betrayal by CHRISTINE ROBINSON

    Guest User: My Marriage's Betrayal by CHRISTINE ROBINSON

    👉 READ NOW

    I sacrificed my career and endured agonizing IVF treatments, all just to give my husband’s wealthy family an heir.

    But when I checked the smart ring app his company had launched, I discovered my personal profile was labeled as a “Temporary User”—all data automatically wiped every 90 days.

    And positioned right above me, the name of his junior employee, Katerina, was glaringly listed as the “Primary User,” complete with a detailed log tracking her 24-week pregnancy.

    When I confronted him, Calvin didn’t apologize. Instead, he brought his pregnant mistress home.

    He actually demanded that I act as her caretaker, while his mother sneered, calling me a disposable ornament and ordering me to leave the marriage with nothing.

    My husband had merely used my painful fertility struggles to beta-test his algorithms, while secretly using our marital assets to fund his new family.

    In this marriage, I was nothing but a temporary data point.

    They thought I would silently accept being treated as a disposable “guest.”

    But I handed over the evidence of his severe data privacy violations to a shrewd, ruthless lawyer, and then decisively exposed the truth to the world.

    👉 READ NOW

    Guest User: My Marriage’s Betrayal Chapter 1

    Allison Benson’s POV

    The doctor’s appointment was scheduled for ten in the morning. I needed to download my three-month health report from the smart ring app. Dr. Chen specifically requested a detailed data report covering my menstrual cycle regularity, sleep patterns, and stress levels.

    Calvin, my husband, had insisted I wear his company’s prototype product—the “Aura” smart ring—claiming it was to “support my IVF journey.” He said my data was crucial for optimizing their women’s health algorithms.

    I opened the Aura app on my tablet. The company’s logo flashed on the screen, a glowing, stylized feminine symbol. My finger hovered over the “Download Report” button. Right at that moment, an unexpected window popped up on the screen—”User Selection.” It listed two names: my name, Allison Benson, and right below it, another name: Katerina Copeland.

    Katerina Copeland. The name struck me like a bolt of lightning. She was a junior product manager at Calvin’s company, AuraTech.

    I had seen her at a few company events. Young, smart, and always impeccably dressed. But why was her name on my app? This was my ring, my data. An icy wave of unease washed over me.

    Almost involuntarily, my finger tapped Katerina’s name. A brand-new page loaded. It was her personal profile, detailed and comprehensive.

    My eyes scanned the data: cycle records, sleep scores, activity levels. Her data logs stretched back for months, continuous and complete, far exceeding what I saw in my own account.

    I kept scrolling, past various charts. The final entry was highlighted in a glaring green. It wasn’t a standard cycle log, but a status update, clear and piercing—”Pregnancy Log: Week 24.” My vision began to blur. Week 24, six months, a baby. Her baby, Calvin’s baby.

    My hands shook violently. I quickly navigated back to my own profile page. My data was there, but sparse and fragmented. A few weeks here, a few days there, leaving massive blank gaps.

    My cycle logs, my desperate attempts and efforts to get pregnant, had been reduced to these incomplete fragments. I noticed a nearly invisible little tag under my name: “Temporary User. Data auto-clears every 90 days.”

    A Temporary User, a temporary placeholder.

    My mind was in utter chaos. He gave me the ring, saying it was for us, for our shared dream of a family. But in reality, he was just treating me as a temporary data tester, a disposable account that could be tossed aside at any moment.

    And Katerina was the “Primary User.” All the way to delivery. His system had clearly defined our roles. I was the temporary guest, and she was the permanent resident.

    It was absolutely sickening!

    Calvin’s late nights at work, his sudden “business trips,” the absent-minded look in his eyes whenever I talked about IVF treatments.

    They had planned it all along, how they were going to replace me.

    The doctor’s appointment now felt like a sick joke. I grabbed my phone, found the appointment, and deleted it without hesitation.

    An intense urge to flee surged within me; I wanted to escape this life.

    I looked around the luxurious living room. Every piece of furniture, every decoration felt tainted; I stood up, walked into the bedroom, pulled a small duffel bag from the closet, and haphazardly stuffed a few clothes inside. I had to leave. I needed air.

    The sound of the front door opening echoed through the silent house. Calvin was back, earlier than usual. My heart raced, like a drum pounding wildly against my ribcage. He never came home this early unless he thought I wasn’t here.

    “Allison?” His voice sounded light, tinged with surprise. “You’re home?”

    He walked into the living room, briefcase in hand, and stopped. His eyes swept the room and finally landed on me and the half-open bag. He frowned slightly. “What’s going on? Did you miss your appointment?”

    “No.” My voice was flat, devoid of emotion. “I canceled it.”

    He took off his coat and casually draped it over a chair. “Why? Is everything okay? Weren’t you really anxious about this checkup?” He didn’t wait for my answer, walking straight into the kitchen and tossing his keys onto the marble counter with a sharp clink. “I’m starving. I’ve been busy all day, didn’t even get to eat lunch.”
    He opened the fridge, looking down to rummage for food, and hastily took a few bites; I watched him. This man was actually sleeping around with another woman!

    He returned to the living room holding a bottle of water. “I need a shower, today’s meetings were exhausting.”

    A few minutes later, he walked out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, drying his hair as he walked. He looked refreshed and completely oblivious. “So,” he said, running a hand through his damp hair, “ready to go get some dinner? I was thinking we could try that new Italian place.”

    “Calvin,” I started, my voice perfectly calm, without a single ripple of emotion, “are you going to come with me to my next IVF checkup?”

    He paused, the towel still in his hands. His shoulders stiffened almost imperceptibly. “Another checkup? Allison, we just did one last week. You know how swamped I am right now; the Series C funding is urgent.” His voice was gentle, but I could hear the underlying impatience. “This is a critical time for AuraTech, you understand that, right?”

    “This is critical for us too.” I raised my voice slightly. “This is for our baby, Calvin. This is our last cycle, and if it fails, we have to re-evaluate everything. You promised you’d be there for me.”

    He walked over and placed a hand on my arm. “Of course, honey. I’ll try to make time. I’ll see if I can rearrange my schedule, it’s just… work is absolutely crazy right now. You understand, right?”

    “No, Calvin. I don’t understand why Katerina Copeland is listed as the ‘Primary User’ on the Aura app, and why her profile says ‘Pregnancy Log: Week 24,’ while I am just a ‘Temporary User’ whose data gets wiped every 90 days.”

    Calvin froze. A flash of panic crossed his usually confident eyes. He took a step back.

    “What are you talking about, Allison? What app? Are you snooping through my things again? That is company property, you have no right to look at internal data.”
    My heart was beating frantically, but a strange calmness settled over me. This was his playbook. Manipulate, deflect.

    He had always done this, but today was different. I recalled the countless times he accused me of being paranoid or overreacting whenever I questioned his overly intimate texts with Katerina, or the necessity of him “mentoring” her late at night. He always brushed me off like this.

    “She’s new, Allison. She needs extra guidance.”

    “She’s smart, Allison. I need her on this project.” That was his explanation when I found Katerina’s name repeatedly popping up on his personal phone.

    And I, like a fool, always apologized for my “insecurities,” thinking it was my problem.

    “No, Calvin, I was just checking my own health report—the data report on the ring you gave me specifically for the IVF. And I found Katerina’s profile, a ‘Primary User’ account, logging 24 weeks of pregnancy.”

    His eyes narrowed as he tried to find any sign of wavering on my face. “Allison, that… that’s a system glitch. I can explain it to you.”

    I let out a cold laugh, heavy with sarcasm. “A glitch? A ‘glitch’ that turns a wife who has poured everything into realizing our dream of a family into a ‘Temporary User,’ while making your subordinate the ‘Primary User’?”

    He ran a hand through his hair. “Allison, stop talking nonsense. You are my wife. This is just… a technical error. It has nothing to do with us.”

    “Does it really have nothing to do with us?” A wave of nausea hit me. “Does your ‘technical error’ also include bringing Katerina home? Into our house?”

    His eyes darted around the room, as if looking for hidden cameras. “She… she wasn’t feeling well, she got dizzy suddenly. I just brought her back to rest for a bit before taking her home.” He stammered.

    “And are the ‘special notes’ in her pregnancy log about ‘high risk, continuous monitoring required’ and ‘prenatal care expenses paid from shared account’ also technical glitches, Calvin?”

    He exploded. “Allison, you’re crazy! This is internal company business! You are clearly unstable and making things up!” He pointed at me, his face flushing red. “I have a board meeting tomorrow, I don’t have time to listen to your baseless accusations!”

    He turned to leave, fleeing to his usual safe haven—”work.” “We’ll talk when you calm down. Maybe you need to go see Dr. Evans again and get your stress levels adjusted.”

    I stepped in front of him, blocking his path. “There won’t be a ‘later,’ Calvin. And I won’t ‘calm down.’ I am leaving you!”

    He tried to push past me. “Allison, move! You are being utterly unreasonable!”

    I stood my ground, unmoving, but inside, I had completely woken up!

    Guest User: My Marriage’s Betrayal Chapter 2

    Allison Benson’s POV

    The next morning, Calvin left, slamming the door hard. He didn’t even look at me.

    His usual routine of a hurried morning kiss on the cheek and a mumbled “love you, honey” was gone. He just walked straight out, leaving behind an empty silence and the lingering scent of his cologne.

    Right before walking out, he had paused, turned around, and put on a forced smile. “Listen, Allison, about Katerina. Maybe you’re right, maybe I’ve been too invested. I’ll keep my distance. It really is just work-related, you know how crucial the company is right now.”

    He made a placating gesture with his hands. “Let’s just stop obsessing over the past, okay? Focus on our next steps. That’s what really matters.”

    “Our next steps? Is that the plan where you expect me to keep trying to get pregnant? While in the meantime, you’ve already gotten her pregnant?”

    I took a step forward, staring right at him. “Tell me, Calvin, who is the father of Katerina’s baby?”

    His eyes widened, then narrowed again, and he shifted his stance uneasily. “What does that matter, Allison? She is an adult, her private life is her own business.”

    “Then why would you list her pregnancy logs as a ‘Primary User,’ and why are her prenatal checkup fees listed under our ‘marital assets’ expense reports? Are you really standing there telling me you don’t know who the father is?”

    He was visibly annoyed now. “Allison, you’re being irrational. This isn’t how we communicate.” He was trying to regain control of the narrative, trying to make me doubt myself. “You’re losing control of your emotions. You need to calm down.”

    I laughed again. “Irrational? Losing control of my emotions?” I slowly shook my head. “Tell me, Calvin, what role did you want me to play in this meticulously woven farce? The loyal, understanding wife? Or the ‘barren woman’ who silently accepts her husband’s illegitimate child? What exactly do you want from me?”

    He didn’t answer. He just stood there, jaw clenched, avoiding my gaze. The silence was like a massive boulder, heavy and suffocating.

    “Allison, you’re just too stressed out, it’s the hormones from the IVF. You aren’t yourself right now.”

    I wanted to scream, wanted to smash something, but I held back, continuing to stare at him, never looking away for a second. He couldn’t face my anger; he just wanted me to go back to being the quiet, submissive wife.

    He sighed. “I have to go. We’ll talk later.” Saying that, he turned and left, leaving me standing alone in the hallway.

    Talk later? There would be no “later.”

    The morning sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air, as if narrating a broken story.

    I walked back to the tablet. The “Aura” app was still open. I clicked on Katerina’s profile again. Her diet, moods, and doctor’s appointments were all meticulously detailed, clearly having taken up a lot of time.

    I recalled the day he first brought the ring home. “This is state-of-the-art tech, Allison. My team did a fantastic job. It tracks everything—sleep, heart rate, ovulation. It’s going to revolutionize women’s health. And it will help us too, honey. For our baby.” He had slipped the ring onto my finger with such ceremony.

    But it was just a prototype, a data collection device. And I was just a convenient, temporary test subject. I was the “Guest User” whose data would “automatically clear every 90 days.”

    The doorbell suddenly rang, interrupting my thoughts. I jumped, walked to the door, and looked through the peephole. Calvin’s mother, Bobbie Brooks, stood on the porch, her designer bag looped over her arm, a dark expression on her face.

    I slowly opened the door. Without even a greeting, she pushed her way in, her eyes scanning the living room. “Allison, what is this mess? Why is the house so quiet? Where is Calvin?”

    “Calvin went to work.” I replied calmly, my tone flat.

    She turned around, her eyes boring into me. “And you? Why didn’t you go to the doctor? Dr. Chen called me and said you canceled your appointment. What’s going on, Allison? Are you giving up? I told Calvin ages ago that this IVF nonsense wasn’t reliable, you need to give the Brooks family an heir.”

    I looked at her, this woman who had tormented me for years over my fertility issues, who constantly humiliated me for “failing” to give her a grandson. This woman who secretly enabled her son’s affairs and supported his plan to replace me.

    “I canceled it,” I said in a low but firm voice. “I have stopped the IVF treatments. There is no longer a need.”

    Her eyebrows shot up, her face twisting into a mix of shock and anger. “Stopped? What do you mean, Allison? You can’t just give up! You have a duty to this family! What about our heir?”

    “You already have an heir, Bobbie.” I looked her straight in the eye, my voice calm but sharp. “Katerina Copeland is twenty-four weeks pregnant, and Calvin is the father.”

    The color instantly drained from her face, her jaw dropping slightly. In that split second, I saw pure panic in her eyes, which confirmed my absolute worst suspicions.

    She knew everything all along.

    Quickly, she regained her composure, the mask of anger slipping back into place. “Allison, what kind of nonsense are you spouting? Are you crazy? Katerina is a bright young thing, yes, but there is absolutely nothing between her and Calvin. They are just colleagues.”

    “Really?” I asked with a cold smirk. “Then why were you so desperate to ensure the ‘Brooks name’ was carried on? Why were you so obsessed with making me have a baby when you already knew Calvin had a child with Katerina?”

    “You cannot cause a scandal, Allison.” Bobbie’s voice held a threat, her eyes ice-cold. “It would ruin Calvin and destroy the Brooks reputation. That child will be a Brooks. You must accept it and remain silent.”

    My blood ran cold. “Accept it? Remain silent?” I slowly shook my head, my movements resolute. “What am I in this house, Bobbie? A breeding tool that gets tossed aside because she can’t conceive? An insignificant guest in my own home?”

    She stared at me, confusion written all over her face. “What are you talking about? A guest? Allison, what nonsense are you babbling?”

    I picked up the tablet. The screen still displayed Katerina’s profile. I pointed at the “Primary User” label, then to my “Guest User” status. “This is how Calvin’s system defines me, Bobbie. Temporary, disposable. While Katerina is permanent. The mother of the heir.”

    Bobbie looked at the screen, then back at me, her eyes filled with disgust. “You’ve lost your mind. You are completely crazy. I will not tolerate this. You will not ruin my son’s career because of your hysteria. You have until Calvin gets home to pack your things. You will leave quietly. Otherwise, you will regret it!”

    She marched toward the door, her heels clicking furiously against the hardwood floor. Without waiting for a reply, she threw the door open and stormed out, leaving me alone once more.

    I stood in the middle of the living room, gripping the trembling tablet with both hands. My knees gave out, and I slumped onto the floor. Tears finally cascaded down my face. All these years of sacrifice, and I was nothing but a temporary stand-in.

    My parents had warned me about the arrogance and prejudice of the Brooks family, the hubris born from generations of wealth. But I loved Calvin then, and I believed him.

    And now, I saw the truth. I had never truly been accepted by them.

    However, the tears dried quickly, replaced by a cold determination. I absolutely refused to be a “Guest User” in my own life.

    They wanted me to leave quietly? They wanted me to accept the betrayal? Never! I wouldn’t cover for them anymore. I was going to fight for myself!

    Guest User: My Marriage’s Betrayal Chapter 3

    Allison Benson’s POV

    Calvin didn’t come home that night. Around midnight, I received a text: “Very busy today. Staying overnight at the office, don’t wait up.”

    I thought about all those other similar nights. The nights I lay in bed staring blankly at the ceiling, my mind doing backflips guessing where he was and why he had grown so distant. Now, it all made sense.

    “Allison, you just don’t understand my stress. This company is everything to me. It’s all for our future.” And I had always believed him, always trying to play the supportive wife, suppressing my own anxiety. I had learned to bury the loneliness deep inside, carrying the weight of our supposedly shared dreams all by myself.

    But it was different now. His absence actually felt like a release.

    I went into the bedroom, pulled out my largest suitcase, and started packing. Not just clothes, but documents, financial statements, my old work laptop… everything that proved my independence outside of “us.”

    Just as I zipped up the suitcase, I heard a key slide into the lock.

    My heart jumped, and for a fleeting moment, I actually felt something akin to hope. Had he come back for me? Had he realized his mistake? My brain had momentarily reverted to the past, to the “old Allison” who longed for his affection and desperately wanted to believe in his love.

    The front door opened. Calvin stood there, his clothes rumpled, but he didn’t look exhausted. He looked anxious. A second later, Katerina Copeland stepped out from behind him.

    Her hand rested lightly on his arm. She was pale, her eyes slightly red, and she was wearing one of Calvin’s oversized dress shirts, draped loosely over her pregnant belly.

    My breath caught in my throat, the air suddenly turning thin. The image of them standing there shattered whatever lingering doubts and hopes I had into a million pieces.

    Calvin’s eyes landed on my packed suitcase. He grew even paler. His gaze darted back and forth between the suitcase, me, and Katerina.

    “Allison, I… I can explain. Katerina… she fainted again. The doctor said she needs complete bed rest. She didn’t have anywhere else to go. I just brought her here to stay for a few days until we figure something out.”

    Katerina took a small step forward, her lips trembling. She looked up at Calvin, unshed tears welling in her eyes, looking like a frightened fawn, totally helpless.

    Calvin turned to me, his tone pleading. “Allison, please. She needs help. And you… you’ve always been understanding and compassionate. Can you just… take care of her for a few days? Just a few days, until I figure things out.”

    “You expect me, in my own home, to take care of your pregnant mistress, and look at the belly carrying your child?” This was so far beyond my imagination.

    “Allison, don’t say that!” he snapped suddenly, a sharp edge to his voice. “She isn’t my mistress. She is a colleague who needs help. Yes, she is pregnant with my child. But she’s in a dangerous condition right now, she needs a stable environment, a home.”

    Katerina let out a soft sob, leaning her face slightly against Calvin’s shoulder as if seeking comfort, sneaking a glance at me with feigned vulnerability.

    “You actually expect me to take care of the woman who stole my husband and my future?” My voice rose, filled with incredulous fury. “Do you think I’m crazy, Calvin?”

    “Allison, calm down.” He stepped closer, trying to grab my arm. “You don’t have a job right now, you have plenty of time. It’s just temporary, for the health of the baby.”

    I forcefully shook off his hand, my movement full of disgust and anger. “No,” I said, my voice shaking, speaking through gritted teeth. “Absolutely not. I will not be your pregnant mistress’s nanny. Get her out of my house, Calvin. Right now!”

    Katerina let out a soft whimper and pulled away from Calvin slightly. “Maybe I should just go,” she said in a weak, frail voice, taking a step back, pretending she was going to leave.

    “No, Katerina, you are staying!” Calvin’s voice suddenly boomed. He pulled her back to his side, shielding her protectively. He turned to me, absolutely furious. “This is my house, Allison! My family! I decide who gets to stay!” He pointed at my suitcase. “If you can’t handle it, then you can leave!”

    Those words hit my heart like a massive boulder, heavy and final. “My house, my family, my decision.” His words were a knife twisting deep into my chest. The pain was excruciating, as if I had been hollowed out.

    Katerina looked up, a smug smile barely playing at the corners of her lips. “Allison, I am so sorry. I never meant for things to turn out this way.”

    Calvin let out a cold laugh, mocking. “She never meant for it to turn out this way? Allison, this is all your fault! You’re the one being unreasonable! Now, are you leaving or not?”

    I sneered. “Oh, I’ll leave, Calvin. And when I do, I am taking every single thing that belongs to me. Don’t think you’ll get to keep a dime. Sooner or later, you will pay for what you’ve done!”

    I walked right past him toward the bedroom and grabbed my packed suitcase.

    He didn’t try to stop me. He just stood there, Katerina clinging tightly to him, a hint of fear in her eyes.

    As I headed for the front door, Bobbie Brooks suddenly stepped out from the shadows of the hallway.

    She shot a glance at my suitcase, a gleam of satisfaction flashing in her eyes, before quickly looking away and walking straight toward Calvin and Katerina.

    “Oh, sweet Katerina, are you feeling better, darling? Don’t worry. You are safe here now. This is your home.”

    She put an arm around Katerina’s waist, pulling her closer. “Katerina, you are carrying our heir. You are part of our family now. I will protect you, we will all protect this child.”

    I stopped at the threshold, her words echoing in my ears. “You are part of our family now.”

    That phrase, which I had so desperately craved, now sounded like the death knell of my old life.

    👉 CONTINUE READING

  • Trapped In The Billionaire Uncle’s Embrace by Miaomiao

    Trapped In The Billionaire Uncle's Embrace by Miaomiao

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    Hollis stumbled into her family mansion, soaked in rain and wearing a strange man’s oversized shirt after a traumatizing night.
    But instead of offering comfort, her stepmother and stepsister ambushed her.
    They framed her for offending a powerful billionaire, demanding she pay a massive settlement.
    When her fiancé Aris arrived, Hollis thought she finally had an ally.
    Instead, he looked at her with pure disgust.
    “We’re over. I’m marrying Kyla now,” he sneered, wrapping his arm around her stepsister.
    To force her submission, her stepmother canceled her college admission and threatened to leak degrading photos of her to the press.
    That night, they even spiked her dinner and handed her over to thugs to be delivered to the old billionaire’s bed.
    Betrayed, humiliated, and stripped of everything, a white-hot rage burned through Hollis’s despair.
    Why did the people she lived with want to destroy her so ruthlessly?
    Using her last ounce of strength, she escaped the thugs and stumbled into a random hotel room.
    The next day, Hollis crashed Aris and Kyla’s lavish engagement party, holding the arm of a mysterious, imposing man.
    “Everyone, I’d like you to meet my new fiancé,” she announced with a victorious smile.
    Aris stared at the man, his face draining of all color as a terrified whisper escaped his throat.
    “Uncle Alaric?”

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    Trapped In The Billionaire Uncle’s Embrace Chapter 1

    The key trembled in Hollis’s hand.
    It took three tries before it finally slid into the lock. The heavy oak door of the Buchanan mansion swung inward, spilling golden light onto the porch.
    She stumbled across the threshold, her body a wreck of trembling limbs. A man’s white dress shirt, far too large for her, was the only thing she wore. Its hem barely grazed her upper thighs, and the collar carried the unfamiliar, sharp scent of tobacco.
    The living room was brightly lit.
    Her stepmother, Beverley, and stepsister, Kyla, were seated on the velvet sofa. They looked as if they had been waiting for her.
    Kyla’s lips twitched, a flicker of triumph she couldn’t quite hide as she took in Hollis’s disheveled state.
    Beverley set her porcelain teacup down on its saucer. The sharp clink echoed in the silent room. Her eyes, cold and sharp as splintered glass, raked over Hollis’s body.
    “Look who’s finally home.”
    Her voice was smooth, but laced with ice. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming back tonight.”
    Kyla rose from the sofa, her face a mask of false concern. She moved toward Hollis, reaching out as if to help.
    “Hollis, what happened to you? That shirt… Aris will be so upset.”
    The mention of her fiancé’s name was a deliberate twist of the knife.
    Hollis flinched away from Kyla’s touch, a wave of nausea rolling through her. The dull ache in her body and the fractured, nightmarish images in her head made her stomach churn. She braced herself against the wall of the foyer, fighting to stay upright.
    Her gaze locked onto Beverley.
    A bitter laugh escaped her raw throat. “My drink,” she rasped, her voice hoarse with hatred. “You tampered with my drink, didn’t you?”
    A flash of panic crossed Beverley’s perfectly made-up face before it was replaced by practiced indignation. She elegantly crossed her legs.
    “Hollis, what nonsense are you talking about? I think you partied a little too hard and your brain has gone to mush.”
    Kyla chimed in, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. “Sister, how can you say that about Mom? She was just worried you’d drink too much and embarrass yourself at the party.”
    Hollis ignored Kyla. Her eyes remained fixed on Beverley, a predator stalking its prey. She pushed herself off the wall and took a shaky step forward.
    “Worried about me? Was sending me to an old man’s bed also for my own good?”
    The accusation hung in the air, thick and poisonous. Beverley’s composure finally cracked. Her eyes darted away for a second, a telltale sign of her guilt.
    She raised her voice to cover her unease. “If you say one more slanderous word, I swear I will tell your father!”
    Just then, a phone vibrated violently on the coffee table. The screen lit up, displaying the caller ID: Clay Thorne.
    Beverley’s face went white.
    Her hand shot out, a reflexive move to silence the call, but it was too late. She snatched the phone, trying to move away to answer it privately.
    Hollis lunged.
    With a burst of adrenaline, she closed the distance and slammed her finger down on the speakerphone button just as Beverley answered.
    A greasy, furious man’s voice erupted from the phone’s speaker.
    “Beverley! What the hell are you playing at? I waited all night! Where’s the girl you promised me? Are you screwing with me? Do you still want that investment or not!”
    A dead silence fell over the living room.
    Kyla’s face was a mask of chalky horror. She stared at her mother, her mouth agape.
    Beverley froze, looking like a strangled duck, the blood draining from her face.
    Hollis’s heart plummeted. A tidal wave of grief and rage washed over her. The proof was there, undeniable. But as the man’s grating voice echoed in her memory, a more terrifying thought surfaced.
    The hazy figure from her nightmares—tall, powerful, with an oppressive presence—did not match the voice on the phone. Not at all.
    Beverley’s plan had failed.
    She had been sent to the wrong room.
    Delivered to the wrong man.
    Looking at her stepmother’s panicked face, Hollis felt no thrill of victory. Only a profound, chilling emptiness and a terrifying confusion.
    Beverley finally snapped back to reality. She shrieked, lunging for the phone. Hollis stepped back, letting it fall onto the plush rug.
    Frantically, Beverley jabbed at the screen to end the call. She then glared at Hollis, her eyes filled with pure venom, like a cornered animal.
    “You ruined it! You ruined everything!” Beverley’s voice was distorted with fury.
    Hollis pressed her fingers to her temple, a fresh wave of dizziness washing over her. The drugs hadn’t fully worn off.
    She didn’t want to speak to them, didn’t want to even look at them. She turned to go to her room.
    Beverley’s hand shot out and clamped around her wrist. Her nails dug into Hollis’s skin.
    “Where do you think you’re going? You think this is over?” Beverley hissed through clenched teeth.
    Hollis tried to pull away, but her body was too weak. She couldn’t break the grip.
    Kyla stood by, her expression a complex mix of shock and something else, something unreadable. She made no move to help.
    A grotesque smile spread across Beverley’s face. “Hollis, since you refuse to be obedient, you can’t blame me for what comes next.”

    Trapped In The Billionaire Uncle’s Embrace Chapter 2

    Beverley’s fingers were like a vise around Hollis’s wrist. She leaned in close, her voice a venomous whisper meant only for Hollis’s ears.
    “Clay Thorne’s suite is 803. You’re going to go up there right now and ‘apologize’ properly. Otherwise, you can prepare to find five hundred thousand dollars to compensate me for my loss.”
    Hollis stared at her, stunned. The audacity was breathtaking. Five hundred thousand dollars? She was a student. She didn’t have that kind of money.
    With a sudden surge of strength—more a frantic reflex than real power—she ripped her arm free and stumbled back, putting distance between them.
    “You’re insane! I’m not going!”
    Beverley smoothed down her expensive silk robe, a cold smile playing on her lips. “No money? What about the trust fund your dear mother left you? You’re almost old enough to access it. Or, you could always call the police. Let’s see who they believe—a disgraced Buchanan girl with a ruined reputation, or me, a respected philanthropist.”
    Hollis’s body trembled with rage. She pulled out her phone, her thumb hovering over the 9-1-1 icon. It was her only weapon.
    Seeing the motion, Kyla shrieked. “Sister, don’t do something stupid! Think of the family’s reputation!”
    Just then, the butler’s voice echoed from the foyer. “Ma’am, Miss, Mr. Baird is here.”
    The name Aris Baird struck the room like a bolt of lightning. The three women froze. Hollis’s finger remained suspended over her phone screen.
    Aris. Her fiancé. What was he doing here at this hour?
    A cold dread washed over her as she saw the matching, triumphant expressions on Beverley’s and Kyla’s faces. She understood instantly. This was part of their plan.
    Aris Baird strode in, tall and impeccably dressed in an Armani suit. His handsome face was a blank mask, his deep blue eyes sweeping across the room before they landed on Hollis.
    When his gaze fell on the wrinkled man’s shirt she wore, her messy hair, and her pale, bruised face, his expression curdled into one of pure, undisguised disgust.
    Hollis’s heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand. The comfort and protection she had desperately hoped for were not there. Only judgment. Contempt.
    He walked past her as if she were invisible, settling his attention instead on the two women who stood waiting—Beverley with her practiced smile, Kyla already drifting toward him with a familiar ease that made Hollis’s stomach turn.
    Beverley’s voice cut through the air, smooth and deliberate. “Aris, dear, I’m so sorry you had to see this… unpleasantness. Some things are better left unseen.”
    Hollis watched them—the way Kyla’s hand found its way to Aris’s arm, the way Beverley positioned herself as the matriarch of a scene she had written herself. The three of them stood together, a closed circle that had no room for her.
    Aris’s gaze finally landed on her—cold, dismissive, as if she were a piece of trash he had just noticed on the floor.
    Aris’s looking down at her from his great height.
    He reached into his suit pocket, pulling out a checkbook and a Montblanc pen. With a few swift strokes, he wrote, tore out the check, and tossed it down in front of her.
    It fluttered to a stop near her feet.
    “Take it. It’s a breakup fee,” Aris said, his voice devoid of any warmth. “We’re over.”
    Hollis slowly lifted her head. Her bloodshot eyes stared at the man she had loved for three years.
    She didn’t look at the check. She just asked, “Why?”
    Aris let out a cold laugh, as if she’d just told the world’s most pathetic joke. “Why? Hollis, you have the nerve to ask me why? The future wife of a Baird cannot be a shameless woman who fools around with strange men.”
    “I wasn’t!” Hollis scrambled to her feet, her voice rising with desperation. “I was set up!”
    Kyla immediately shrank behind Aris, feigning fear. “Aris, she’s scaring me…”
    Aris shielded Kyla, his expression hardening with even more revulsion. “Shut up. Stop acting. It only makes me sicker. You’re not a virgin anymore, are you? That’s a fact!”
    The cruel words struck Hollis’s deepest wound, the raw, secret shame she was still grappling with.
    “So”—Aris paused, delivering the final blow—”I’ve decided to cancel our engagement. My fiancée… will be Kyla.”
    The world stopped. Hollis stared at Aris, then at the triumphant, hypocritical face of her sister peeking out from behind his arm.

    Trapped In The Billionaire Uncle’s Embrace Chapter 3

    The world stopped. Hollis stared at Aris, then at Kyla’s triumphant, hypocritical face peeking out from behind his arm.
    Aris’s words hung in the air like a death sentence. The silence in the room was absolute.
    But then, something flickered in Hollis’s chest. Not grief. Not more shock. A tiny, sharp spark of disbelief that refused to be extinguished.
    She looked at Aris again—really looked. Not at the handsome face she had loved, but at the man standing before her, the man who had just pronounced her “used goods” and replaced her with her sister in the space of a single breath.
    And she heard it.
    Not what he had said—but how he had said it.
    “You’re not a virgin anymore, are you?”
    Not “Did you sleep with someone else?” Not “What happened to you?” Not even “Who was that man?”
    He had stated it as fact. As if he already knew the outcome. As if he had expected it.
    Hollis’s blood turned cold.
    Her voice came out slow, barely more than a whisper. “How did you know?”
    Aris frowned. “Know what?”
    “That I wasn’t a virgin anymore.” She held his gaze. “I never told you that. I never said a word about what happened last night. You walked in, saw the shirt, and you didn’t ask—you just knew. How?”
    A flash of something crossed his face—too quick to read, but it was there. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
    “It’s obvious,” he said, but his voice had lost some of its edge. “You’re wearing a strange man’s clothes. Your hair is a mess. You look like—”
    “Like someone who was drugged and dragged to a hotel room,” Hollis cut him off. Her voice was rising now, a tremor running through it, but not from weakness. “Like someone who doesn’t remember half of what happened because her drink was tampered with. Like a victim, Aris. Not a cheater.”
    She stepped closer to him. He did not step back, but his eyes darted away for a fraction of a second.
    “You didn’t ask me what happened. You didn’t give me a chance to explain. You just pronounced me guilty. Because—”
    She stopped. The words formed in her mind like ice crystallizing.
    Because you already knew what was supposed to happen.
    The phone call. The wrong room. Clay Thorne’s furious voice demanding the girl he was promised.
    And Aris, her fiancé, standing here in the early morning, acting as if he had been waiting for this exact moment.
    “You knew,” Hollis said. Her voice was flat now. Empty. “You knew about the drink. You knew about the plan. You knew they were going to send me to someone else’s bed—and you let it happen.”
    Kyla’s face went pale behind Aris’s shoulder. “That’s ridiculous—”
    “Shut up,” Hollis snapped, her eyes never leaving Aris. “I’m talking to him.”
    Aris’s composure cracked. Just a hairline fracture, barely visible—but she saw it. The way his lips pressed together. The way his hand, the one not holding Kyla’s, curled into a fist at his side.
    “You’re hysterical,” he said, but it came out too fast. “You have no proof of anything.”
    “I have you,” Hollis said, and her voice was ice. “I have the way you just answered me. You didn’t say ‘I didn’t know.’ You said ‘You have no proof.’ That’s not a denial, Aris. That’s an admission.”
    He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
    And in that silence, everything clicked into place.
    Her stepmother’s scheme. Her sister’s eager complicity. And her fiancé—the man who had kissed her goodnight a hundred times, who had promised to love her forever—standing here, waiting for her to fall so he could catch Kyla instead.
    He had not been betrayed by her.
    He had been waiting to betray her.
    Hollis let out a breath. It came out shaky, but she did not break.
    She reached into her pocket and pulled out the check he had thrown at her. She had picked it up without thinking, an instinct to not leave anything of his lying on her family’s floor.
    She unfolded it slowly, looked at the number, and then let it fall from her fingers.
    It drifted down and landed at his feet.
    “That,” Hollis said, her voice as cold as a tombstone, “was for my dead love.”
    “Keep your filthy money,” she spat. “Buy your new fiancée some candy.”
    She threw the confetti of paper into their faces, then turned and ran out of the house without a backward glance.
    Hollis ran blindly through the New York streets. The cold wind whipped at her face, but it couldn’t cool the fire of rage and despair in her heart. She was homeless.
    The next day, exhausted and numb, she made her way back to her dorm at New York University, seeking a moment of peace.
    She was stopped by her academic advisor before she even reached the building entrance. The advisor’s face was etched with pity and discomfort.
    She was told that her stepmother, Beverley, had come to the university that morning. Acting as Hollis’s “guardian,” she had filed the paperwork for a mandatory withdrawal.
    The news hit Hollis like a physical blow. NYU was her escape. The one thing she had earned all by herself.
    She ran to the registrar’s office, but the answer was the same. The withdrawal was processed. It could not be reversed without her guardian’s consent.
    Hollis called Beverley. Her stepmother’s voice was smug and victorious on the other end of the line.
    “I gave you a chance, Hollis. Now, you only have one path left.”
    The threat was clear.
    “Eight o’clock tonight. The St. Regis, suite 803. Mr. Clay Thorne is waiting for you. If you’re not there, photos of you with your ‘wild man’ will be on the front page of every gossip magazine tomorrow morning.”
    Beverley hung up.
    Hollis listened to the dead tone, feeling as if the entire world had gone dark.

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