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Black SUV Arrival
Terakhir Diperbarui:
2025-04-03 23:06:40
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Divorced My CEO Husband, He Came Begging Stolen Design, Stolen Life
Maya's POV I stared at the screen, my fingers digging into the worn fabric of the couch. The leather was cool against my skin, a stark contrast to the terrible heat rising in my chest. Three years of marriage, and this is what it had come to. There he was, my husband Daniel, his arm wrapped around Fiona's waist like she was his prized possession. The camera loved them, capturing every detail of their picture-perfect smiles. The studio lights gleamed off their teeth, their eyes, the jewelry adorning Fiona's neck. That was mine, she was flaunting my design as hers. I could still remember the day Daniel and I met. It was an arranged marriage, set up by our parents to unite our families. I had been so naive then, thinking love would naturally follow. How wrong I'd been. "I'm the luckiest man alive," Daniel gushed, his eyes never leaving Fiona. "To have this beautiful woman by my side." My stomach churned, a nauseating mix of anger and despair. The necklace glittering around
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Maya's POV "Maya, what did you do?" Daniel's voice cut through the room, sharp and accusatory."Daniel, please, let me explain—" The words tumbled from my mouth, desperate and clumsy.But Daniel's eyes were fixed on Fiona, his hands roaming over her arms, her back, checking for injuries. "Are you hurt? Did she harm you?"Fiona pressed herself against him a little too much, her breasts heaving and bouncing with exaggerated sobs. The torn dress gaped open, leaving view of a soft tantalizing mound of flesh. I watched as Daniel's gaze flickered downward for a moment before he pulled her closer, enveloping her in his arms."It's okay, you're safe now," he murmured into her hair, his tone sickeningly gentle.I stood there, frozen, as Daniel comforted Fiona. The familiar ache of betrayal settled in my chest, heavy and cold.Finally, Daniel turned to me, his eyes hard. "Well? Are you going to explain yourself?"I swallowed hard. "I didn't do anything. Fiona, tell him—""Oh, Daniel," Fiona int
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Maya's POV The silence that followed my outburst was deafening. I could almost hear the gears turning in their heads, processing what I'd just said. Then, all at once, the room exploded."Have you lost your mind?" My mother's shrill voice cut through the air like a knife. Her face, usually carefully composed, was contorted with rage. "After everything we've done for you?" My father's response was quieter, but no less cutting. "Ungrateful," he spat, his eyes cold and hard. "We gave you everything. A home, a family, a future. And this is how you repay us?" Their words hit me physically, each one chipping away at the resolve I'd built up. I opened my mouth to respond, but my mother wasn't finished. "You know what? Maybe we made a mistake bringing you back," she hissed. "Our real daughter wouldn't be this stupid, this selfish." I flinched, her words cutting deeper than I wanted to admit. Real daughter. As if I was some cheap imitation, a knockoff they'd accidentally brought home. "If
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Maya's POV The room buzzed with murmurs as Fiona stumbled through her explanation. From the corner of my eye, I saw my parents exchanging worried glances. My mother's perfectly manicured nails dug into my father's arm as she whispered urgently in his ear. A moment later, they were at my side. "Maya," my father hissed, his breath hot against my ear. "Get up there and help her. Now." I shook my head, a small act of defiance that sent a thrill through me. "No. This is her moment, isn't it? Let her handle it." My mother's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Don't be stupid, girl. Do you want your precious adoptive mother to suffer?"My blood ran cold. "What are you talking about?""It would be such a shame if we couldn't afford her medical bills anymore," my father said, his voice dripping with false concern. "After all, quality care is so expensive these days."The threat hung in the air between us, as tangible as the pearls around my mother's neck. I swallowed hard, memories of my adoptive m
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Maya's POV "Yes, my wife. Is there a problem with that, Mr. Thorne?" Alex's smile turned casual, almost playful, but his eyes remained sharp. "No problem at all. I just... might have thought differently." Daniel's jaw clenched, and I could feel the anger radiating off him. "If you'll excuse us," he said, his voice tight. "We're needed inside." As he began to steer me away, Alex spoke up again. "Before you go, I must say, Mr. Russo, you're a lucky man." His voice was warm, but his eyes never left mine. "Your wife is not only beautiful but incredibly knowledgeable. A rare combination." Daniel's laugh was just a touch too loud, too forced. "Oh, I know how fortunate I am," he said, pulling me closer. "Maya is... one of a kind." I could feel Daniel's fingers digging into my side, a silent warning. Play along, they seemed to say. "We're very much in love," I heard myself say, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. "Aren't we, darling?" Daniel's smile was all teeth. "Absolutely besot
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The darkness pressed in around me, broken only by slivers of moonlight sneaking through the curtains. I sat on the plush carpet of my prison, my back against the cold, unyielding door as I curled in on myself, my hands bracing my knees to my chest. The digital clock on the nightstand blinked neon against the darkness, 7:42 PM. Daniel's mocking laughter still echoed in my ears. "You should thank Fiona, you know," he'd sneered earlier. "If it weren't for her, you'd be in a much worse situation." I'd begged the damn bastard, I'd pleaded. Hell, I'd even tried reasoning with him. Fat lot of good that did me. "Daniel, please," I'd said, my voice embarrassingly small. "You can't keep me locked up forever." He'd just smirked, those eyes I once thought were kind now cold as ice. "Watch me." The click of the lock had been final, absolute. I'd pounded on the door desperately until my fists ached, screaming myself hoarse. "You bastard! Let me out!" Silence was my only answer. Now, ho
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Daniel's eyes locked onto the designs spread across the bed. "What are you doing?" I stiffened, caught off guard by his sudden appearance. "Just... working on some new designs." "New designs?" Daniel scoffed, sauntering into the room. "As if the ones you've been churning out aren't enough." His dismissive tone made something twist inside me. "Those designs are making you money, aren't they?" I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them. Daniel's head snapped towards me, surprise flickering across his face before it hardened into a scowl. "Careful, Maya. Don't forget who you're talking to." "How could I?" I muttered, turning back to my sketches. "What was that?" Daniel's voice dropped dangerously low as he crossed the room in two quick strides. I should have backed down. Should have apologized. But something in me refused to yield this time. I met his gaze. "I said, how could I forget? You never let me." Daniel's eyes narrowed. "You're in quite a mood tonight,
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The tension in the room evaporated the moment Daniel answered his phone. His face, moments ago contorted with rage, smoothed into a mask of politeness. "Grandfather," he said, his voice suddenly warm. "How are you?" I lay there, heart still racing, as I listened to Daniel's side of the conversation. His brow furrowed, lips pressing into a thin line. "Tonight? But-" Daniel paused, clearly cut off. "Yes, of course. We'll be there." He hung up, turning to me with a scowl. "Get up. We're going to dinner at the old mansion." I blinked, struggling to process the sudden shift. "What?" "Grandfather wants to see you," Daniel spat, as if the words tasted foul. "He misses you, apparently." --- The leather seats of Daniel's luxury sedan creaked as he shifted gears, his cologne almost suffocating in the enclosed space. We'd been driving in tense silence for nearly twenty minutes, the city lights giving way to the manicured lawns of the suburbs. "Remember," Daniel said, his voice l
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Divorced My CEO Husband, He Came Begging Black SUV Arrival
"It wasn't revenge," I countered instinctively. "She was protecting me.""Was she?" Eleanor asked, voice neutral. "Or was she protecting her legacy through you? The line between protection and possession can be remarkably thin."That struck uncomfortably close to what I'd been wrestling with since finding the journal. Had Mami Lulu loved me for myself, or as a vessel for her stolen techniques? Had she been genuinely maternal, or calculating in a different way than the Kingstons?"Why are you here?" I asked, changing the subject. "What do you want?""I watched you work at the fair." Eleanor set her cup down. "It was like seeing a ghost. Not just the technical execution, which was flawless, but the intention behind it. Lupe's techniques perfectly preserved, down to the way you angle the mandrel during the final turn."I didn't respond. There was nothing to confirm or deny."When I heard someone had bought Lupe's old cabin, I wondered if it might be you. Few people would have reason to w
Divorced My CEO Husband, He Came Begging Eleanor
A week passed in self-imposed isolation. I'd barely left the cabin since returning from town, the memory of that black SUV creeping through Spring Creek still nagging at me. Could have been anyone—some rich tourist looking for a quaint mountain café, some lost city driver checking addresses. But instinct told me otherwise. Daniel had resources, connections. Just because he hadn't found me yet didn't mean he wasn't looking.I'd turned the place into a glass workshop that would've given safety inspectors a heart attack. Beads piled on every flat surface, tools scattered wherever I'd last dropped them. My latest obsession was taking photos of everything I made—setting pieces against the east window where the light hit best, snapping them from every angle. If someone tried to steal my work again, I'd have dates, images, proof it was mine first. Paranoid? Maybe. But paranoid people sometimes have real enemies.I'd been saving the best shots as Instagram drafts, ready to post when I finally
Divorced My CEO Husband, He Came Begging Everyone gets a share
A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. One of the staff, not bothering to wait for an answer before entering."Phone call for you, Fiona. Your mother."I followed her to the communal phone, accepting the receiver with a practiced neutral expression."Hello, Mother.""Fiona." Caroline's voice was tight, controlled. "How are you progressing?""Excellently. I'm journaling my feelings and embracing sobriety one day at a time."The sarcasm was thick enough to spread on toast, but Caroline ignored it, as she ignored anything unpleasant that couldn't be fixed with money or public relations."Good. We've arranged for you to stay at The Residence when you're released next week. It's a transitional living facility for people in recovery. Very discreet.""I thought I'd be coming home." I knew the answer even as I said it."That wouldn't be best for your recovery." The practiced line of someone who'd consulted experts for the right way to abandon their child. "Besides, your father and I are
Divorced My CEO Husband, He Came Begging Displacement
I hurled the notebook across the room, my carefully maintained composure cracking. The soccer mom—Tracy? Stacy?—jumped in her bed, eyes wide with alarm."Sorry," I muttered. "Bad memory."She nodded with the instant forgiveness of the perpetually frightened and turned back to her recovery romance novel.I closed my eyes, but the memories kept coming. The day my parents brought Maya "home." The press conference, the tearful reunion carefully staged for maximum emotional impact. Me, standing to the side, watching Caroline Kingston touch Maya's face with a reverence she'd never shown me."Look at you," she'd whispered. "You have your grandmother's eyes. We thought we'd never see them again."I'd given interviews, playing the ecstatic sister. I'd shared my room, my clothes, my parents. I'd shown her the family business, introduced her to industry contacts I'd cultivated for years. All while watching Caroline and Robert orbit around her like she was the sun and I was just some distant, dis
Divorced My CEO Husband, He Came Begging Maya’s Look Alike
FionaThe white walls of the rehab center wouldn't stop spinning. Thirty days sober and I still couldn't get my balance. The therapist said it would pass, but what the fuck did she know? She hadn't lost everything in one night.I studied my reflection in the bathroom mirror. They'd taken my makeup during the "contraband check," claiming the compact mirror was a "cutting risk." As if I'd slice my wrists with a cheap plastic mirror. If I wanted to die, I'd do it with style. Nothing half-assed for Fiona Kingston.Kingston. I traced the outline of my face, searching for traces of them in my features. Was my nose Robert's? My eyes Caroline's? I'd spent years finding family resemblance where there was none."You're making excellent progress, Fiona." Dr. Levine's voice echoed in my head, that patronizing tone she used when lying to make patients feel better. "These breakthrough revelations about your adoption are painful but necessary for healing."Breakthrough. Like I hadn't known since I w
Divorced My CEO Husband, He Came Begging Her Journal
I left without waiting for her response, clutching my earnings—just over six hundred dollars—and my remaining jewelry. Instead of heading directly to my truck, I ducked into the general store and waited near the window, watching the street. The SUV had disappeared, but my nerves remained on high alert.After fifteen minutes with no sign of the vehicle, I hurried to my truck and drove back to the cabin, taking two wrong turns just to make sure I wasn't followed.Back at the cabin, I tried to research "Vega technique" and "Lupe Vega" online, but the internet connection was spotty at best, and my searches yielded little useful information. A few obscure references to innovative glass bead techniques from the 1980s. A mention in an archived design magazine about "promising newcomer Lupe Vega." Nothing that definitively connected this designer to my Mami
Divorced My CEO Husband, He Came Begging Black SUV
I spent the afternoon gathering supplies, then worked through the night preparing pieces for the fair. I created six more complete jewelry sets, each built around those distinctive spiral beads. By dawn, I had enough inventory to fill a small display, if not a full booth.I arrived at the square precisely at eight, carrying a folding table I'd found in the cabin's shed and a wooden tray that displayed my pieces against dark velvet. A few other vendors were already setting up, arranging pottery or paintings or handwoven textiles. Eleanor pointed me to a corner spot beneath a massive oak tree, the dappled shade perfect for displaying jewelry without harsh glare."You have your own table. Good." Her tone was clipped, but not unfriendly. "Need anything else?""I'm all set, thanks."She nodded and moved on, but I noticed her watching me from time to time as I arranged my pieces. Something about her attention felt oddly specific, though I couldn't place why.I wondered if she recognized me.
Divorced My CEO Husband, He Came Begging Getting a Booth
Two weeks passed in a blur. I'd fallen into a routine that felt both new and achingly familiar. Wake with the sun. Coffee on the porch. Hike the overgrown trails that surrounded the cabin until my legs ached. Sketch whatever caught my eye—a particular twist of tree branch, the pattern of lichen on stone, the way light filtered through pine needles. Then work with glass until my fingers were raw and my back screamed from hunching over the flame.I'd cleaned out the workshop properly now, scrubbing years of dust and grime from every surface. I'd cataloged all the supplies, surprised by how much Mami Lulu had left behind. Hundreds of glass rods in every imaginable color. Tools in pristine condition, despite the years of neglect. A small kiln that, miraculously, still worked when I plugged it into the generator I'd bought during my first supply run to town.The cabin itself had transformed too. I'd scrubbed every surface, repaired what I could with my limited skills, and arranged my meage
Divorced My CEO Husband, He Came Begging Trying Again
I spent the next several hours continuing the cleaning I'd started yesterday—more sweeping, more scrubbing, removing sheets from the bedroom furniture I hadn't gotten to yet. After more fiddling with the water system, I finally located the main valve outside and, after several attempts, managed to get the old pipes to deliver rust-colored water that eventually ran clear. The electricity was another matter—apparently disconnected long ago—but I'd come prepared with battery-powered lanterns and the camping stove I'd used last night.By mid-afternoon, I was filthy, sweaty, and oddly satisfied. The bedroom was now reasonably clean to match the progress I'd made in the main room yesterday, the bathroom was functional if primitive, and I'd aired out more of the musty odor. My arms ached from scrubbing and carrying water, but the physical exhaustion felt good—clarifying, somehow.I dragged an old wooden chair onto the front porch and collapsed into it, watching as the sun began its descent t
