Three years of a calculated arrangement. One moment of cold finality. Calista MacQuoid walked into Ranya Windsor’s life desperate and poor, leaving behind a contract that saved her family and transformed her world. Their relationship was based on a clear agreement - his protection in exchange for her companionship - until the moment he uttered four crushing words: “She’s back. It’s over.” With remarkable dignity, she accepts her dismissal, refusing to become another broken-hearted conquest. A million-dollar check and a week to retrieve her belongings are all that remain of their intricate past. Leaving Texas’s wealthiest man behind, Calista vanishes completely, erasing every trace of her existence. As Ranya receives her final goodbye, he finds himself haunted by her absence, torn between his diligent search for her and the rekindled love of his past. Will he succeed in finding the woman who left a void in his heart, or will he focus on his dying love for his ex, the woman he truly loved?
View MoreThe hospital buzzed with urgency as medics wheeled Calista into the emergency room. Tubes snaked across her fragile body, her face pale and lifeless. The doctor barked orders to his team, his voice sharp with authority.“She’s in critical condition! We need to stabilize her heart!”Ranya stood frozen in the hallway, his hands trembling as they clutched the edges of his blood-streaked jacket. His throat burned from inhaling smoke, but the agony in his chest far outweighed the physical pain. He paced, his eyes darting to the operating room’s red light. Every second felt like an eternity.When the doctor emerged, his face grim, Ranya rushed toward him, gripping his coat. “Save her!” His voice cracked, raw with desperation. “Do whatever it takes. I’ll pay any amount, give up anything—just save her!”The doctor placed a firm hand on Ranya’s shoulder. “We’ll do our best, but her heart is weak. She’s on life support now. The next 24 hours are critical.”Ranya staggered back, the weight of th
Ranya gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white with tension as he pushed the car to its limits. The tires screeched on the asphalt, leaving behind faint trails of smoke as the vehicle hurtled through the deserted road.His heart pounded violently against his ribcage, every beat a painful reminder of the urgency that gripped him. The image of Calista’s face - her laughter, her warmth - flashed before him. He gritted his teeth, muttering to himself.“Hold on, Calista. Hold on for me,” he whispered, his voice a mix of desperation and determination.Lynn’s voice crackled in his earpiece, updating him on the location. “Boss, the building is fully engulfed. Be careful.”“Careful?” Ranya barked back. “She’s in there, Lynn! Do you understand what that means?”Lynn’s silence was answer enough. Ranya’s foot pressed harder on the gas pedal as he weaved through traffic. His mind raced with worst-case scenarios. Was she alive? Was she trapped, crying out for him? The thought of her s
The whole crowd stirred the moment the old man spoke up, his voice reverberating through the grand hall. Chairman Hamilton, with trembling hands, pointed toward Signoral, his face etched with desperation. “Tell me now!” he rasped, eyes gleaming with unshed tears. “What did you do to my Allen?”Allen had always come to him in dreams, begging him to remember. Yet he would wake up to find his mind a blank slate—unable to recall anything.The guests murmured among themselves; the atmosphere turning electric. Whispers of confusion, disbelief, and anticipation rippled through the sea of faces.Signoral’s face turned pale, but she forced herself to remain composed. Clutching Ranya’s arm, her nails dug into his skin as she hissed under her breath, “Ignore him. Let’s finish this wedding. Now.”Ranya shoved her hands away and turned to her with a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. “Afraid to lose, Signoral?” he asked mockingly, his lips twitching as he pressed a small button on his earpiece. “Ly
The wedding took place in the sprawling outdoors of a luxurious estate in Texas. Guests from across the globe - politicians, business moguls, and celebrities - graced the event. Despite the short notice, the wedding was a spectacle of grandeur. Ornate decorations, pristine floral arrangements, and the soft hum of a live orchestra created an enchanting ambiance. Ranya stood at the altar, his tailored suit exuding elegance, but beneath the surface, a storm of emotions churned. Worry for Calista tightened his chest with every passing moment. He fought to maintain his stoic facade, yet memories of his promises, and the potential consequences of this union—haunted him. Thoughts of Calista filled his mind: her smile, her trust, and the despair she must have felt. His hands, clasped tightly in front of him, trembled imperceptibly, a stark contrast to the composed image he projected. With every glance toward the arriving guests, the whispers of his conscience grew louder, questioning h
Signoral stood in front of the full-length mirror, her reflection a striking vision of elegance. Her white gown, meticulously crafted with intricate lace and shimmering beads, hugged her figure as though it had been made for her alone. Penelope and a small team of stylists hovered around her, making final adjustments to her veil and train. The air felt stiff, not just from the preparations, but from Signoral's brewing thoughts. She couldn't help but feel something was wrong. But she had made Penelope check over and over for any sign of leakage whatsoever. Charlotte, too, had seemed to be in good health, but she hadn't wanted to take any chances. That was why she had wired a lot of money to her, with stern warnings that she had to disappear for good this time. Her phone buzzed on the vanity table, drawing her attention. She picked it up, glanced at the caller ID, and swiped to answer. Charlotte's voice came through, sharp and accusatory. Talk of the devil. "Signoral," Charlott
The following morning, preparations for the wedding were in full swing. All of America buzzed with shock at the whirlwind announcement of Ranya and Signoral's wedding. Speculations ran wild, and everyone had an opinion about the sudden turn of events. Some believed Ranya was erratic, incapable of making rational decisions. Others celebrated, claiming that Signoral had finally secured her rightful place by his side. Meanwhile, a considerable number expressed disappointment, having grown fond of Calista and rooting for her relationship with Ranya. The media frenzy was unparalleled. Paparazzi and journalists flocked to both the Lewiston Estate and Signoral's residence, hoping for an exclusive statement from either of them. As expected, Signoral basked in the attention, offering vague yet tantalizing comments to reporters. Ranya, however, maintained a strict low profile, refusing to entertain any questions. Five hours before the open-air wedding—the most talked about in America—the
Washington, D.C."Did you do as I instructed?" Mr. Lewiston's voice emerged quietly, his hands working diligently on his laptop as he screened through the files the caller had sent him. "Yes, sir," came the composed reply of a woman from the other end of the call. "I sent you every single detail, including the supplements injected into his system. I had one of my men verify the data—it’s accurate." "And the real heiress?" Mr. Lewiston asked, his tone dropping lower. There was a brief pause before she responded. "She was spotted in China, sir, with your sister," she said, hesitating slightly. "But the authorities were already looking for her. I was about to make provisions to get her out, but they're out already... Mr. Windsor used his jet to take them out. They're on their way to Texas as we speak." "Good work, Rena," he said, leaning back in his chair as he moved his fingers away from the keyboard. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the desk while he processed the inform
Calista sat in the dimly lit room, her arms wrapped around the chair as the evening deepened into night. Anthony sat across from her, his expression torn between guilt and frustration as they both stared at nothing in silence. Signoral's guards loomed near the door, their presence a constant reminder of her captivity. Calista glanced at Anthony, her annoyance simmering beneath the surface. "Why?" she asked, her voice low and angry. Anthony raised his head and turned to her. Bruises marred his body from the beating. "Why what?" Calista turned away, her chest tightening. She couldn't shake her growing resentment toward Ranya. He hadn't even tried to reach out or threaten Signoral on her behalf. Did he even care if she was okay? He had told her the night before that he couldn’t breathe if she wasn’t near… but he sounded like someone who had enough oxygen to last him forever, even without her by his side. Her mind drifted to Signoral’s earlier words after she had ended Ranya’s
“The wedding wouldn't be held in Washington as I promised. We will have it here." Ranya ended the call with Signoral, his jaw tightening as the anger he had bottled up turned into weariness. The room fell silent for a moment, all eyes on him. Damian, Valerie, Lena, and Lynn exchanged wary glances, their expressions a mixture of concern and disbelief. "You didn't ask if she was doing okay…" Mr. MacQuoid's voice broke the silence. He couldn't help himself. His daughter was being held captive by someone who used to be her best friend. Ranya glanced at Mr. MacQuoid, knowing the man felt guilty and was beating himself up over Calista's kidnapping. Perhaps if he hadn't called her to talk about leaving Ranya, things wouldn't have escalated the way they had. "No," Ranya replied curtly, shoving the anger and worry aside. "Hearing her voice will only make me do nasty things I'd definitely regret." And that was the truth. He wouldn't be able to bear it if her voice betrayed any uneasin
Fading Echoes of Desire The weather was nice and fair, especially after the heavy downpour the previous day. There was nothing to worry about as she made her way to the massive building belonging to one of the wealthiest bachelors in Texas, Ranya Windsor. Three years ago was the first time she had visited this place. She was in distress, desperately seeking a way to prevent her father from going to jail. She was troubled and extremely poor. But today, she held her head high, feeling a sense of belonging as her heels made resounding steps toward the receptionist. Despite being a law firm, the building felt more like a suite for people of high status. “Good morning, miss,” the blonde receptionist greeted, smiling sweetly at her. The last time she was here, the receptionist had a curt expression, unlike the friendly one now. “Good morning,” Calista replied, giving her a smile that lit up her face. “I have an appointment with Mr. Windsor.” The receptionist nodded and checked her ...
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