I keep a smile plastered on my face as I slowly drag the zipper down the back of my dress, peeling it off my shoulders and letting it pool at my feet. I'm left standing in just my underwear, but that doesn't last long. With a few deft movements, I unclasp my bra, push the straps off, and toss it aside.The look of horror that washes over his face when he sees my once smooth, unblemished stomach now covered in scars is deeply satisfying. "Can you see?" I ask, my voice dripping with a mixture of anger and resignation. "This is what I've been hiding under my clothes. See these?"I turn around, exposing the angry red welts and lash marks across my back. "I got these when I willingly participated to be the sex slave of a wealthy psychopath. He doesn't sleep with the women, but he derives pleasure from their pain and the sight of their blood. All I had to do was take whips on my body and cry like there's no tomorrow, and I get the complete money to start Zayne's treatment."I point to a par
Rominic's viewpointI now truly understand the depths of Lavender's bitterness and pain. The scars that marred her body were a constant, physical reminder of the horrors she had endured, and the emotional and mental scars were even deeper, seared into her very consciousness. I felt a deep pang of guilt, knowing that my actions had been the catalyst for so much of her suffering.I desperately wanted to fix it, to make her forget the trauma and pain she had experienced. But I knew, deep down, that such a thing was impossible. The idea of using hypnosis or some kind of memory-wiping machine crossed my mind, but I quickly dismissed it. That would be a selfish and greedy act, robbing her of her own experiences and freedom.No, if I truly wanted her forgiveness, I would have to earn it through patience and understanding, not through force or manipulation—but I knew it'll be impossible to fully control myself. The temptation to hunt down every single one of the men who had hurt her, to unlea
The greatest thing about acceptance is that the moment you embrace it, you feel an immense sense of relief, and the healing process begins. At least, that's how it was for me. I woke up with the most excruciating headache I'd experienced in ages — I couldn't recall the last time it had been this severe. Yet, the lightness and peace I felt in my heart made the pain seem like nothing.Granted, Rominic had panicked and ended up taking me to the hospital, but it was ultimately a good thing. Rominic was driving us back home, his expression quiet and concerned. I couldn't help but wonder if he was worried about me.I had decided to start accepting things as they were, determined to stop denying reality and simply deal with it. I had been slowly losing my grip, and it had terrified me. Rominic was right — we both needed psychological help, and I was considering getting some."Serenity came to me last night," Rominic said calmly. I turned my head to look at him, and I was struck by the grim e
I loathe that my children are my greatest weakness. What's worse is that Rominic, my not-so-greatest enemy, is fully aware of my vulnerabilities and has mastered the art of exploiting them for his own benefit.I mentally snorted at the thought. Is there anything this man doesn't know how to use against someone? Manipulation and scheming seem to be ingrained into the very fabric of his family. It's as if they were born with the innate power to be domineering, manipulative, silent as deadly snakes, and untreatable psychopaths. I've never encountered a family where madness is their second nature, but the Verlice clan has proven that it is indeed possible.To the outside world, they present themselves as cold, calculating billionaires, business tycoons, and intellectual giants. But only those who have experienced or witnessed their madness firsthand know the true nature of this family. Their dynamic is truly freakish, yet I still found myself falling in love with Rominic.I vividly rememb
I couldn't help but roll my eyes as I watched the interaction between Rominic and Zachary. Rominic was speaking to Zachary with a soft, affectionate tone — a stark contrast to the way he typically addressed me. It was obvious he was trying to cozy up to Zachary, but I couldn't help but smile at the thought of using this as a potential means of escape."So, what do you think of this one?" Rominic asked Zachary, his voice dripping with that uncharacteristic tenderness.Zachary considered the design for a moment before shaking his head. "The design is fabulous, really, but the idea, I'm not so sure. We are aiming for something simple yet unique, something that won't endanger children's lives. The idea is good, but the pressure of adding it to the construction of the board would be dangerous, as it could result in heat and explosion after a limited time. If we end up doing it, the team would have to come up with a way to limit it, and that won't be fun for those who would be buying it. We
I stared at the headline, a deep sense of dread slowly unfurling within me. Shock, confusion, and finally, curiosity warred for dominance as I tapped the link, opening the news page. Rominic's face was the first thing that greeted me, and the sight of it sent a jolt through my heart, a scornful sneer automatically curling my lips.Scrolling down, I began to read the article. Mercury Hot News was a well-known hub for celebrity gossip, their pages overflowing with salacious breaking news, whether positive or negative. I could only hope that this particular story would not fall into the latter category."We all know that over the past years, Rominic B. Verlice has remained unmarried and single ever since the death of his fiancée. A lot of questions have been asked about why he hasn't moved on, and no answers have been given from either him or those around him. Well, it's a shocking surprise that I discovered his secret coincidentally," the reporter wrote, their tone casual and conversati
"I can't believe he has children," Giovanna remarked, the disbelief evident in her voice for what must have been the umpteenth time that week. The office had been abuzz with people discussing the news from every angle.Rominic, however, remained unfazed. He had already heard the news, but he simply didn't care. The only reason he had kept silent about them in the first place was because of me.Stacy, too, had not uttered a word on the matter, and many of the workers continued to ask me if the rumors were true, since I was Rominic's PA. But they were getting no information out of me."He's a man, what do you expect?" I replied dismissively.Giovanna shrugged, a crease of concern etching her brow. "I don't know, not having kids? I mean, I heard he was emotionally traumatized by his fiancée's death and the assassination schemes that followed. From what I know, she was assassinated and he blames himself for it. He hasn't been seen with women for years, and now suddenly he has children? He
"Wh-what a-are you doing?" I stammered, caught off guard by his unexpected actions."Thank you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for bringing them into this world and keeping them alive. Thank you for raising them so well, thank you for letting me be part of their lives."It dawned on me again that Rominic knew me more than I wanted to accept. Did he know I'd feel like this after seeing the pictures? Did he do this knowing that it was all I needed to sweep the negative emotions under the rug? Or did he just do it because he genuinely felt that way?"Rominic, are you crying?" I asked, my brow furrowed with concern as I tried to catch a glimpse of his face, still half-buried against my shoulder.He pulled back, revealing a face flushed with emotion, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "I'm a proud father," he laughed, the sound mingling with a hint of something more primal. "And a horny husband."The initial shock of his embrace instantly wore off, replaced by a
Zayne's POV Zayne sat hunched in the far corner of the large, barren room, his back pressed against the cold cement wall. The dim light overhead flickered faintly, casting erratic shadows on the unadorned gray walls. The air smelled faintly of damp concrete and old sweat. The only furniture in the room—a small, round table and two wooden chairs—sat near the door, like a cruel joke of hospitality.For the past three days, his captors had been relentless in their vigilance. The men guarding him rotated in pairs every twelve hours, their shifts as regular as clockwork. Zayne had counted fourteen different faces so far, each one more intimidating than the last. Not once had he seen a repeat. It was maddening to realize how methodical they were, making it nearly impossible to track patterns or exploit weaknesses.His wrists and ankles were bound securely with heavy locks and thick chains, leaving him no option for physical resistance. Every attempt to shift positions resulted in the cold
The muffled hum of idle chatter seeped into Zayne's consciousness, tugging him from the depths of unconsciousness like a persistent mosquito's whine. His eyelids felt glued shut, and his temples throbbed with an ache that pulsed in time with the low rumble of an engine.At first, the voices grated against his senses. The inane conversation was a jumble of vulgarities and half-formed thoughts, an assault on his already-frayed nerves. He wanted to groan, to shout at them to shut up—but then clarity struck like a lightning bolt.That kind of idle banter wasn't supposed to be anywhere near him.His eyes snapped open, the transition from darkness to dim light making him wince. For a disorienting moment, the world swam in blurred shapes and muted colors. He blinked rapidly, his focus sharpening. He was seated awkwardly on the floor of a car, his legs bound tightly together with coarse rope. His wrists were similarly tied, though the knot was haphazard at best, the frayed strands scratching
Lavender's POVThe cool, smooth leather of the office couch cushioned me as I sat cross-legged, my notepad balanced on one knee. I leaned forward, the pen in my hand moving swiftly, its tip scratching faintly against the paper. Around me, the soft, lingering scent of roses and bergamot filled the air—remnants of test bottles scattered haphazardly across my desk.Warm sunlight filters through the sheer curtains, bathing the room in a gentle glow. The golden light pools on the wooden floor and reflects off the edges of glass bottles, casting shadows across the walls. It's quiet except for the faint scratching of my pen and the low hum of the air conditioning. My gaze dropped back to the notepad where I meticulously outlined the ingredients for my latest obsession: a bold, layered perfume.The vision was vivid in my mind: the top notes would be sharp and citrusy, evoking the crispness of an early spring morning. The heart would be floral—a soft, comforting embrace, delicate yet unyieldin
Lavender's POVI stretched my legs out on the bed, crossing them at the ankles as I leaned back against the headboard. Papers, a file, and my laptop were scattered around me, the evidence of a day spent working. My phone buzzed faintly next to me, but I ignored it, too engrossed in the file I was reviewing.The sound of running water echoed from the open bathroom door. Rominic's voice carried through the space as he talked about his day, weaving details about a difficult client and a frustrating product launch into the hum of the shower. I half-listened, my eyes scanning the lines of the document in my lap."And then the old man had the nerve to criticize the campaign visuals," Rominic grumbled.I heard the sharp squeak of the shower handle turning, followed by the dull thud of water droplets against tile as the flow stopped. "Honestly, Lav, I don't know how I managed to keep my temper. Times like this, I wish Dad hadn't retired and left me to deal with this circus.""You handled it f
Lavender's POVI stared at my phone for what felt like the hundredth time, the faint glow of the screen casting shadows across my hands. The message sat there, glaring back at me, its words as sharp as the first time I read them:Your luck truly is magnificent, dearest Lavender. But how far does that luck extend to those around you?The number that sent it no longer existed, but the unease it left behind clung to me like cobwebs. For two weeks now, I'd replayed those words in my mind, dissecting every possible meaning. Was it a threat? A warning? A cruel joke?I rubbed my temple, trying to push away the thoughts that refused to leave me. Who could have sent it? Had I offended someone? My mind churned, dragging up memories from the past. There were people I'd cut out of my life over the years, but those falling-outs were so long ago—ten years, maybe more. And they'd been petty disagreements, nothing that would warrant this kind of cryptic hostility.Yet, the nagging thought remained: h
I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to stay calm, tapping the arm of the chair rhythmically. Plans had changed last minute, and we had to cancel on Giovanna. But this wasn't a trivial decision; it was because of Rylee. I couldn't leave her alone—not in the state she was in. Anna, Tyra, and Ginger agreed without hesitation. Rylee had become part of our circle, and right now, our priority was coaxing her into facing her mistakes. We gave Giovanna the ticket as a peace offering, hoping she'd understand.Anna, Tyra, and Ginger had practically moved in to help me keep an eye on her. Suzanne couldn't be here physically, but she regularly sent messages of support. Phineas frequently checked on Rylee through me, and Nic, despite his lingering frustration with his sister, never missed a chance to ask after her. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how alike the two of them were in their stubbornness and loyalty.I was seated in the living room, Tyra gently braiding my hair whi
I stepped quietly into Rylee’s bedroom, the familiar scent of black cherry with a subtle touch of ‘black rose’ filling the air. My hands were shoved deep into the kangaroo pockets of my hoodie, fingers curling into fists. I stopped at the foot of the bed, watching her fragile figure huddled in the middle, clutching her knees to her chest, her face buried in the folds of her arms. The bedsheets, deep red with scattered flaming stars, were tangled around her legs, a stark contrast to the gray sadness that seemed to engulf her. Seeing her like this—so vulnerable—twisted something deep inside me. Rylee never showed her softness, not to anyone. But I knew better than to offer comfort too soon; she would push me away. Being sweet didn’t work with her. When she felt cornered, she lashed out.I exhaled a heavy sigh, the kind that weighed more than just air. I sat down at the edge of the bed, my body turned sideways so I could still see her face, or at least what was left of it beneath the ve
Lavender's viewpointI waited patiently in Rominic's and my bedroom, my legs stretched out comfortably on the bed while my back rested against the headboard. My eyes skimmed over the words on the page, racing through each line, but my focus was fractured. I was worried about Rylee, who Rominic had said was in tears. That wasn't something he would lie about, nor was it unusual for me to hear.Rominic was usually the first person Rylee turned to whenever she faced a problem. It always struck me as strange how they could barely stand each other's presence yet relied on one another during emotional turmoil. Their relationship was perplexing, but I had come to understand it was a unique bond. It reminded me of my own children, Zach and Savia. They bicker and fight more than any other siblings I know, yet their love and understanding for each other run deep. It seemed that Rominic and Rylee shared a similar dynamic—even after ten years, their connection remained unchanged.What truly worried
A breathless gasp fell from my lips as I threw my head back, my back arching off the bed in a deliciously desperate stretch. But Rominic didn't give me a moment to acclimate to the powerful wave of sensation that crashed over me. He began to rock his hips, plunging in and out at a maddening pace from the very start, driving me wild. My entire body burned with an insatiable heat that pooled tantalizingly in my abdomen, each thrust igniting a fever that coursed through me. I was quickly lost in the delirious bliss of our bodies colliding relentlessly, surrendering to the rhythm we created together.Rominic hovered over me, his presence consuming, as he cuffed my hands to the bed above my head, rendering me beautifully helpless. He hardly slowed his pace; in fact, every time he felt my walls tighten around him, he responded with heightened urgency, relishing in my pleasure. I could barely obey any order he barked at me, my capacity for restraint evaporating under his relentless assault. A