One lie sets off a chain of events that drastically alters the lives of several people involving them in a world they had no way out from. Facing the risk of losing her home, Love at the push of her best friend Mira agrees to pretend to be blind in order to secure a job. Her decision is driven by a pure heart, wanting nothing more than to help a struggling soul. As she works, she helps Sebastian while falling in love with his brother, Christian. Love struggles with the burden of her lie, she considers walking away from everything, even if it means losing Christian forever but the lie has already laid roots tying her down and ultimately making her pay the price of her dishonesty while seemingly stripping Christian off of his humanity.
Lihat lebih banyak"People are still talking about the wedding. It's the talk of every event since." Grace says as we sit at the table. Christian is right next to me, holding my hand, his thumb tracing the side of my knuckle. It feels nice. Too nice. "And no one thinks you are pregnant anymore, so now they believe it's true love." Bash comments. "Good, because it is. As true as it gets," Christian says as he kisses my cheek. I smile. It is so hard to be in this darkness. The voices around me keep surprising me. Every movement strikes a nerve within me, and I have to pretend to be relaxed. "Why didn't you tell us about doing the surgery?" Bash asks. "We wanted you to see firsthand that the surgery you will go under would work because she will be taking off the bandages just before you go under. That will give you all the training you need to go there without a doubt in your mind that this will work." Christian’s words are calm like he’s presenting a plan instead of revealing something deeply personal.
Love's POVI think I understand Bash now better than ever. Being trapped in the dark was horrible. No wonder he felt the way he did. Even when I knew well that this would last only four weeks, walking around with my eyes bandaged up was hard. even harder than I imagined it would be.But one thing was good... as long as I couldn't see I wouldn't have to look at the hatred that grew inside Christian's eyes. This situation goes from bad to worse. The silence between us felt like it was splitting me in two. I could feel Christian beside me, his presence so tense, so tightly wound. I couldn’t see his face, but I didn’t need to. I could feel the sharp edge of his anger cutting through the air between us. The hatred I’d seen in his eyes before, that dark, simmering look, now felt like a constant companion. He didn’t even have to say anything. I could feel it in the way he handled me, the way he spoke, the way he didn’t speak.But I liked the fact we were back home. Perhaps that way I won't fe
"How long is this going to take? We have a plane to catch." That's not true. It's not like my private plane would go somewhere without me, but I wanted out of this doctor's office as soon as possible."I thought you were returning in a month. If it's supposed we just did the surgery she wouldn't be recovered by now. The world won't believe it." The good doctor says as Love glances up at me."Plans change. Tell her what to do to fake it, she's good at that." I was on edge. Playing nice was so hard and I needed all the willpower I had to do this charade infront of my family, not him."We would need to bandage her eyes... keep her like that for about three to four weeks. And even after that she would need to use sunglasses outside for a period of time... pretend to adjust." Somehow that sounded perfect in my head. She would, even for a short four weeks be forced to walk around blind. She would get to taste her lie on her own skin. "She can do it," I say as I glance at her. "In fact, wrap
Christian's POV I hate her. But somehow I hate myself more for still loving her. I hate how I still want her, and I hate even more the thought of another man having her. The image of the doctor's hand on her filled my chest with rage. She was mine. In every way possible, she was mine. Mine to torture, mine to punish, mine to hate. I wanted to break her. I wanted to watch her unravel beneath me until she knew, without a doubt, who she belonged to. My own torment, my own suffering, would be her punishment. But would it be enough? Would it ever be enough? I have never wanted anyone as much as he wanted her, but with every passing day, the love I thought I had for her had twisted into something darker. The same shade of dark I once felt for my lying father. He was the first and only lesson I need to understand how much a lie can destroy a life. He lied to my mother, he betrayed another woman. He would lie and leave us, his family, to be with someone else. A woman who probably just wa
I didn’t know how I felt anymore. I still loved him, but a part of me was starting to fear him. The love that once felt so pure, so effortless, was now tangled in a web of control and lies. Every interaction, every word exchanged between us, left me more uncertain. The warmth I once felt in his touch had turned into something that made my bones feel frozen.I wanted to reach out, to say something that would make him hear me, make him understand the pain that I was going through. But every time I opened my mouth, the words felt wrong, twisted by the fear of saying the wrong thing, of pushing him further away. Every time I tried to speak, I felt like I was walking on a tightrope, the fear of falling into his wrath too great.After spending a week and a half not leaving the villa, he finally decided to leave. Here he would just casually reach for my hand as we walked but he did not talk much. At a spot with a beautiful view, he asked a stranger to take a photo of us, and he hugged and eve
Christian kept his word. To the outside world, we were this perfect, happy newlywed couple. So in love, so eager to start our honeymoon. But behind the facade, everything was different. Every touch, every word, every look felt hollow. His arms around me were nothing more than a carefully constructed performance, a show for the people around us. As we walked through the airport, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of the eyes on us. The casual paparazzi snapped their pictures, capturing our smiles, our closeness, and the image of a perfect couple. But it was all just that, a picture. A snapshot of a life that didn’t belong to us.Christian kept his distance from the photographers, his presence almost protective. He would always make sure no one got too close, his hand gripping my arm just a little tighter whenever the flashes started. In that moment, I felt both protected and imprisoned, wrapped in a cocoon of control that had nothing to do with love and everything to do with appearanc
Love's POVI just stood there. At the same exact spot, I was when he left me. I didn’t dare to move. I didn’t know how to. The weight of his absence pressed against me, suffocating, as if the very air around me had turned thick and impossible to breathe.The wonderful dream about a new future disappeared. It shattered, crushed into a million pieces like glass breaking across the floor. The vision I had of us, of something real, something lasting, seemed so far away now, an illusion I had foolishly believed in.This was a nightmare. One even worse than I could have ever imagined. Because it wasn’t just about losing him...it was the way he had left, the coldness in his eyes that made me feel like I never mattered at all. It was the way everything had felt so perfect one minute, and then the next, it all collapsed. I thought we had found something special, something real. But as he said, it was all built on a lie. I never wanted to hurt him, God is my witness. I wanted to defend myself,
Mira’s POVThe wedding was beautiful, and Love looked so happy. Genuinely happy, with no weight on her shoulders that I for one dont feel bad about how their story started. With the lie I told and she followed. Perhaps it was destiny if there even existed such a thing.There was only one thing about the wedding I didn't get, and that is how the hell did Vincenzo score an invitation. It was no secret Christian wasn't a fan of him, so how did he get in?Not that I care.For one I did what Tamara asked me to do in the first place, I stayed away from him. It wasn't like I wanted to be around him anyway. He looked at me like I was a puzzle meant to be solved, and I hated how that felt. He didn't have the right to dig out all the things I buried.I left the venue and waited for the taxi I ordered to return me to the city, I was dying to take off my shoes and curl up in bed with Charlie.“Don’t tell me you’re avoiding me now,” Vincenzo said, his voice low and teasing. I froze. This is the clo
Christian’s POV I smiled. I smiled as I said yes, took her hand, and promised to stand by her side for the rest of our lives. I smiled as our picture was taken, each click of the camera capturing a moment that felt so bittersweet. I smiled as Aidan gave his best man speech, his words were meant to celebrate our love, but they fell on deaf ears because all I could hear in my head were the things she had told me, the secrets she kept buried deep inside. I smiled as we cut the cake, though it felt like I was slicing into something that was no longer real. I smiled as we shared our first dance, the music playing, the room spinning around me, but I was stuck in the silence of my own thoughts. I smiled. But every smile, every gesture, every movement felt like a lie. I was drowning. I smiled while I was dying inside. She had told me everything. I should have been angry, furious even, for what she had kept from me. But all I felt was the sharp sting of betrayal, and the even sharpe
"For how long does one cook bread?" I hear Mira talk as she types into her phone. Every time one of her dates goes badly she comes home and tries to cook something out of the little things we have left in our fridge. Tonight it just so happened that we were out of bread."I think the word you are looking for is bake, not cook," I say as I lean over the couch, stretching my legs in the process as I remove the overheated laptop from my lap."That makes more sense," Mira says as she turns to our oven. "Bake at 375° until loaf is golden brown and sounds hollow when tapped or has reached an internal temperature of 200°... since when did the internet become so useless? Sounds hollow? How does hollow look like in minutes?" Mira asks as she turns the dial on the oven with frustration I get up and take the phone out of her hand."Half an hour to forty-five minutes... see, the small letters," I say as I tap her shoulder. "Relax Mira, it was just a bad date. You shouldn't get all worked up over ...
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