**The world is cruel, and villains rarely pay for their sins—unless you become one.** --- Sherah Hawke lived the dream of many: a perfect marriage to a man who seemed too good to be true. Ethan Farwell, a cold billionaire to the world, was sweet, caring, and devoted to her alone. Their love story was nothing short of a fairytale—a forgotten daughter meeting her prince in an unexpected twist of fate. But fairytales can be lies. Sherah's perfect world crumbled when she overheard Ethan’s chilling confession. She wasn’t the love of his life—she was nothing but a pawn. A tool for revenge against her half-sister, Sophia. Every tender touch, every kind word? A cruel rehearsal for the moment Sophia returned to his life. Heartbroken, Sherah resigned herself to the collapse of her marriage, prepared to walk away. But Sophia wasn’t willing to wait. Impatient and vengeful, her half-sister orchestrated a horrifying plan. The helpless, and betrayed Sherah met a brutal end. But some endings are only the beginning. Sometimes, life gives second chances not to make amends but to unleash the darkness within. Because sometimes… …a good person can become the villain. And Sherah Hawke is done being good.
View MoreThe next day.Sunday morning. As Silas planned, they drove to Ethan’s home. The grand gates of Farwell Villa slowly creaked open as a sleek black car rolled in. Sophia stepped out first, followed by her parents. But today, she looked… different.Gone were her designer dresses and heavy makeup. Instead, she wore a simple cream blouse tucked into high-waisted jeans, her hair tied loosely in a ponytail. Her face was bare, save for a light tint on her lips—natural, almost unrecognizable. She had studied Sherah well, mimicking not just her simplicity, but the calm fire that always rested behind her amber eyes.Ethan, standing by the veranda, froze when he saw her. His jaw tightened, unsure of what stunt she was about to pull now.“Ethan,” Sophia called softly, her voice steady—so unlike the usual shrillness he’d grown used to. “Can I have a moment?” She glanced at her parents, signaling them to wait by the door. Silas and Rebecca exchanged looks but obeyed.Ethan nodded stiffly. “Speak.”
In a Manhattan penthouse inside a well-lit home office stood the mysterious woman and her son. Staring at the information they have gathered over the months regarding the Hawke Family, Ethan Farwell, and everything who knew them.Their photos were posted on a white wall with personal information underneath their names. Like detectives trying to catch a criminal.Their likes, dislikes, friends, everything they could get a hold of, everything they could use in the incoming attack they are planning. Amidst everything, one photo stood out, circled in red pen, and was connected to both families ~Sherah~ the person that lawfully intertwined between Ethan and the Hawke Family.“The unwilling victim,” the man says while looking at Sherah’s photo.The woman hummed, “So Sherah is carrying Ethan Farwell’s heir or heiress, and he had no idea about it.” The mysterious woman commented. “Is this intel—” She hadn’t finished speaking when her son cut her off. “—Yes mother, it took me a hefty amount
At New York Medical Hospital, inside Eliot’s office, Sherah sat quietly, her head lowered, eyes full of sorrow as she cradled a cup of tea.“It’s strange, isn’t it?” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “How someone can get so close to your heart without you even realizing... they’re slowly squeezing the life out of you with every beat.”Eliot’s breath caught. He didn’t know how to respond.Sherah noticed his discomfort and let out a soft, teary giggle. She squinted, fighting the tears threatening to fall. “Enough of the sadness,” she said, setting the cup down carefully. “Thank you for meeting me at such short notice. I know you’re always busy.” She forced a small smile. “Doctors always are, aren’t they?” She asks playfully.Eliot nodded, the corners of his lips lifting as he reached out and gently patted her hand. The simple gesture made Sherah feel safe, secure, and seen. She noticed his hand was colder than usual, and for some reason, her mind drifted to the gloves she h
The door burst open with a sudden clatter, immediately drawing Ethan and Sherah’s attention. Noel stepped in briskly, trailed by an elegant older woman in her late fifties whose refined demeanor softened the disruption. “Sorry to intrude,” Noel announced, his tone apologetic yet brisk. “Sir, Madam Kingsley forgot something in your office.”Madam Kingsley herself entered next, her face etched with a mix of concern and urgency. “I seem to have lost my bracelet during our meeting,” she declared, her distinct Aussie accent lending an air of elegance to her long blonde hair, hazel eyes, and sun-kissed skin. Her eyes scanned the room as if expecting the missing item to materialize.Sherah glanced around and spotted a dazzling diamond bracelet resting in the corner of the sofa. “I believe this is yours, Madam Kingsley,” she said softly as she extended the bracelet with care. Ethan grinned as he observed the transformation in the usually aloof, meticulous shareholder—her stern façade melting e
The next day, early in the morning, the new divorce documents are sent to Sherah’s apartment. She hurriedly opened the brown envelope to check the terms Ethan had insisted on adding. Sherah’s eyes widened and her hands trembled as she read through the document. “An apartment in Manhattan, money worth $3,000,000, and 2% shares in Farwell Group. Is he insane?” She questioned.She then flipped the document and searched for Ethan’s signature—he didn’t sign. She bit her lip, “Is this another game of yours, Ethan? Why can’t you just leave me alone?” She thumbed through the documents once again and, aside from Ethan’s lack of signature, she saw the address of the Manhattan apartment. “What the heck?” She muttered as she searched for the exact location of the property using her phone, “15 minutes away from the Farwell Villa. This man is playing me," she uttered while pinching the bridge of her nose. “This needs to end now.” She whispered as she caressed her belly. She could feel her baby
“It's the 30th day and Ethan should respond to my petition. It's also his birthday next week…” Sherah gasped. “... So it would be a double celebration for him.” She muttered to herself while sweeping the dog hairs on the floor.She then remembered the gloves that she was supposed to be knitting for him and the cake she was planning to bake for the special day. The memory made her smile bitterly. “Good days,” she whispered as she slowly dripped in nostalgia for the love she used to believe. She sighed deeply. “Now here we are.” She kept on muttering as the chaos in her mind slowly drowned by the constant barking of the dogs waiting patiently for their owners to pick them up.—Then an icy, arrogant female voice echoed in the Pet Salon.“So… this is what you do now?” Rebecca Hawke uttered while glancing around the store with a judgmental gaze expensive bag in hand, wearing a coat that cost more than Sherah’s annual income. Sherah didn’t even bother to look at Rebecca. “Of course, the pa
Ethan noticed a long, jagged scratch running across the driver's side door, ugly and deliberate. But that wasn’t all. His tires—every single one—had been slashed.Ethan’s fingers curled into fists as he exhaled sharply through his nose. His heart pounded, not in fear, but in cold, simmering rage.Slowly, he crouched beside the front tire, dragging his fingertips along the deep cut in the rubber. Precise. Intentional. Not a random act of vandalism.“Sherah.”His mind snapped to her instantly. It had her name written all over it. He could practically imagine hearing her laughter, with a smug little smirk as she walked away, thinking she had won whatever game they were playing.A dry chuckle escaped his lips—dark, humorless. "Cute, Sherah," he muttered under his breath.With one last look at his ruined car, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number.The moment the line connected, he spoke.“Pick me up. I’m in Brownville.”After the call, a low, weary voice spoke. “Young man, you shouldn
Ethan sat patiently while waiting for Sherah to arrive.As he sat on the chair, he couldn’t stop thinking about how she was released early. He knew he had 11 more hours before the police could process her. “Did Eliot help her?” He let out a mirthless crackle, “Of course he did.” He spat as he crossed his arms. His plans backfired immensely. He intercepted her bail to keep her inside so she could feel helpless and vulnerable.To keep her away from Eliot and meeting other men. To make her realize she still needs him, and she can’t move on. His grip tightened around his phone, his knuckles turning white as he replayed the video Officer Polar sent earlier.The video footage doesn’t have any audio, but he replayed it again and again. Each time, his stomach twisted a little more, but his focus never wavered. The attack was indeed Sophia’s doing. Despite knowing the truth, he couldn’t unhear Sophia’s trembling voice, her eyes wide with something between fear and desperation when he had
Chuckles and light conversations filled the Hawke residence as Rebecca shared a few of Sophia’s childhood stories over dinner.She giggles, “When Sophia was six years old, she told a boy that he could only date her if Silas approved of him. She’s too young, but she thinks like a mature woman. Not like other women out there. Will give themselves to the first guy who will make them feel special.” She expressed as she put a dig on Sherah. “Mom, you’re embarrassing me.” Sophia blurted out while patting Ethan’s hand. “Ethan might think I’m weird.”Rebecca extended her hand and patted Sophia, “I’m just telling the truth, dear.” Ethan grinned but glee didn’t reach his eyes.“Our Sophia always thinks like a fine lady,” Silas chimed in. Ethan nods perfunctorily with a slight grin on his face. At first, he enjoyed the stories Rebecca was sharing, but the more she spoke, the more he felt like it was a dig at Sherah.And the way they pictured Sophia as a mature fine lady did not sit well with
For the last five years, laughter has echoed in the Farwell mansion and tonight is no different.At the center of the room, Sherah and Ethan Farwell, a perfect couple in the eyes of many, moved in perfect harmony. The delicate sound of classical music filled the air, the melody weaving a spell that seemed to halt time itself. Sherah, the lady of the house, was radiant in her white silk pajamas, the fabric shimmering in the chandelier’s glow with each graceful turn. Her husband, Ethan, looks dashing, with his perfect smile, brown eyes, and dark brown hair, clad in a tailored suit that emphasizes his strong frame. He held her close. His movements were fluid, his touch tender yet confident.Their eyes met, and the world beyond the mansion faded into insignificance. Ethan’s hand rested lightly on Sherah's back, guiding her effortlessly across the floor. Her fingers curled around his shoulder, their connection intimate and unspoken.Though their dance seemed choreographed by years of pra...
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