Alex sprawled on the car's hood, a whirlwind of motion and violence overtaking him, his senses reeled from the sudden impact. Blood trickled from his battered lips, mingling with the cuts etching his face as he was mercilessly dragged along the unforgiving metal surface. Each breath felt like a struggle, his body a symphony of pain, every heartbeat a drum of fear. Then, a voice sliced through the chaos, heavy as iron, dripping with anger. "How. Dare. You." The words seeped out like venom, laced with a potent wrath that chilled the air. And then, louder, angrier: "How dare you touch her." The weight of those words settled upon Alex like a crushing weight, realization dawning on him in dread. Iden's movements were swift and menacing as he brandished his gun, the cold metal pressing against Alex's trembling form, a macabre dance of power and submission. Alex's eyes widened in horror, his very soul quivering with fear. Amidst this turmoil, Ellaya stepped forward, her presence a wh
Iden's muscles rippled with each thunderous blow against the punching bag. His skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, accentuating the defined contours of his body as he unleashed his fury. With every punch, a torrent of emotions surged through him, driving him to the brink of madness. As memories flashed before his eyes, Iden's jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together in a symphony of rage. The image of Ellaya, bruised and broken, haunted his thoughts, igniting a fire within him that threatened to consume everything in its path. Her innocence, juxtaposed against Alex's depravity, fueled the inferno raging in his heart. In that moment, Iden teetered on the edge of oblivion, his vision tinted crimson with an insatiable thirst for vengeance. The image of Alex professing his twisted affections for Ellaya was the catalyst that pushed him over the edge. Only Kaito's intervention spared Alex from Iden's wrath, but the embers of retribution still smoldered within him. Iden's body moved w
Iden's footsteps echoed softly in the dark hallway as he made his way to the bedroom, his heart heavy with a mixture of guilt and tenderness. The air was thick with silence, broken only by the hushed rustle of his movements. As he turned the doorknob, a sense of trepidation gripped him, unsure of what he would find inside. The moon cast a haunting glow into the now clean room, illuminating Ellaya's form like an ethereal specter in the night. Her peaceful slumber seemed at odds with the turmoil that had unfolded earlier, her face a mask of innocence marred by the evidence of her silent suffering. Gently, he approached her, his presence a mere whisper in the stillness of the room. He carefully sat on the floor beside her bed, his gaze fixed on her pale face. The sight of her tear-stained cheeks and delicate features stirred a storm of emotions within him. He reached out and tenderly brushed her hair away from her face, revealing the faint traces of a cut on her lips and the bruise
"I demand to know, Ellaya," Iden growled, his voice thick with seething jealousy. The day's events were a blur, but his wife's subconscious whispers of another man's name gnawed at him as she slept, leaving him burning with rage. His grip tightened around her chin, pulling her closer, his eyes ablaze with fury. She quivered, unable to meet his intense gaze. "Tell me... who. Is. Leo?" he demanded, with sheer anger and hurt. Her voice wavered as she tried to respond, "I don't... I don't... know," she stuttered, the fear evident in her eyes. The frustration boiling inside him spilled over. He flicked her chin with a mocking smile. His heavy gaze scanned her for the last time before storming out of the room, leaving behind a tense silence. Ellaya was left alone, the echo of their confrontation ringing in her ears. She folded her legs close to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as tears streamed down her face. The room echoed with her sobs. Her body shook violently and her hear
Ellaya's mind raced, unable to shake off the unsettling sight in the study. Despite the disbelief tugging at her thoughts, her heart felt heavy with a truth she was reluctant to accept. Lost in her turmoil, she stared intently at the table, her grip on the spoon tightening as it dug into her plate. "Ellaya," Annabell's urgent voice pierced through her thoughts, causing her to startle. The clatter of her spoon hitting the floor echoed in the tense silence. Ellaya reached down to retrieve it, her gaze lifted, only to catch Iden gripping Annabell's hand forcefully. A surge of emotion gripped Ellaya as she witnessed Annabell's futile attempt to free herself from his grasp, the unshed tears burning in Ellaya's eyes, threatening to fall down. She wiped away the tears with a trembling hand as she sank back into her seat. Uncertainty clouded her mind, yet one thing remained clear; her heart refused to believe in this cruel charade. Their eyes met in a silent clash of wills, both refusin
Ellaya's world was in turmoil. Each day felt like a storm, with every moment echoing Iden's absence. His silence wrapped around her like a suffocating shroud, leaving her gasping for answers. Desperation gripped her as she dialed his number, only to be met with the deafening void of unanswered calls. Seated before a mirror, Ellaya gazed at her reflection. The woman staring back had eyes like amethyst orbs, wide and hauntingly deep. Cascading waves of dark hair with a mystical purple sheen framed a face that defied convention. Her complexion, a delicate shade of baby pink, hinted at otherworldly origins. In the mirror's gaze, she saw a being that transcended mere humanity. It was a face marked by whispers of ancient power and forbidden allure. Inside, emotions roiled—anguish, defiance, and a fierce longing for acceptance. Her form spoke of a silent struggle against judgment and isolation. The reflection before her was not merely a woman; she was a paradox. In her mother's words, a d
Ellaya refrained from stopping her or asking more, feeling a sense of unease. Memories of recent events flooded back, creating tension in the air. She guided him to their room and helped him onto the bed. Gently, she removed his shoes, socks, and tie, tenderly wiping his face with a damp cloth. As her hand brushed his cheek, he grasped it, locking eyes with her. The intensity in his gaze sent shivers down her spine. He held her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as he drew her closer, his gaze focused intently on her face, examining every detail. With his other hand, he caressed her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath his touch. She closed her eyes briefly, then met his intense look once more. Running his fingers through her hair, he pulled her nearer, his scent mingling with the faint tang of alcohol, enveloping her in a daze. The world around them faded into a blur as they breathed in sync, their desire palpable in the air. The warmth of his palm against her skin creat
In a tense room thick with apprehension, the man's voice cut through the silence like a blade. "I'll ask you this one final time, my dear princess. Who is Leo?" His words hung in the air, heavy with expectation and a hint of danger. Her eyes snapped from his hand to his gaze. His expression was eerily composed—too composed—which only hinted at the storm brewing within him. Uncertainty clouded her mind as she shook her head, faltering, "I... I don't know." Beads of cold sweat formed on her forehead, her heart racing as if desperate to break free from her chest. A pulsating ache throbbed in her temple, and her breaths came in short gasps. Almost instantly, a barrage of photos flew towards her, grazing her skin as they scattered across the bed and floor. Among the chaos, her gaze locked onto one of the fallen pictures. Shock contorted her features, her eyes widening in horror. One burning question echoed in her thoughts: how? How did he find out? His next inquiry snapped her back t
Ellaya pulled away from him, her body taut like a bowstring, gaze darting around the room as if it were a cage. She rubbed her eyes, smudging away the fog of grief and fury that clouded her thoughts. Then, slowly, she turned to face him—her lips parted slightly, vulnerability shimmering in her eyes like cracks in glass. “I want to see them,” she said softly, her voice a fragile tremor in the stillness. Iden didn’t move. His eyes studied her, the same girl who once curled into his chest like she belonged there. Her heart—once soft, now shielded—beat beneath a skin that life had hardened. Her exterior still looked like stone, smoothed over by time, but he knew the chaos roiling beneath. “Eat first,” he said gently, his voice low, his eyes flicking to the blood dried on her clothes—evidence of a war not just fought outside, but deep within her soul. “And change. Samantha will help you.” ............. With Samantha’s quiet guidance, Ellaya stepped into the bathroom. Steam rose,
“I’m still a married man, Ellaya,” Iden murmured, his voice like the weight of stone. “I’d have to divorce you before marrying anyone.” She froze. Then, like a flame catching wind, she turned—eyes blazing, breath sharp. “Then do it! Divorce me! Marry her! I don’t give a damn about you or your f*cking girlfriend!” Her voice cracked, but she didn’t falter. She stormed toward the door, grabbing her coat in a single, furious movement. Something clattered to the floor—a sharp metallic sound that sliced through the tension like a blade. Iden’s gaze flicked downward. A flash drive. Before he could move, Ellaya spun—feral, fast, fire in her limbs—reaching for it. He snatched it up, holding it just out of reach. “What’s this?” Her jaw tightened. “None of your concern.” His eyes narrowed. “Everything about you is my concern.” Their eyes locked—rage meeting sorrow, grief meeting fury. Something unspoken bled between them, too broken to name. She lunged again, and th
The tires screeched as Iden slammed his foot on the gas, weaving through the deserted streets like they belonged to him. His knuckles blanched around the steering wheel, jaw clenched tight, eyes flicking toward the passenger seat every few seconds. “Hold on, princess,” he muttered, voice raw, thick with desperation. “We’re almost there.” Ellaya slumped beside him, her coat wrapped tightly around her trembling frame. Blood seeped through the fabric, soaking into her side like ink in water. She clutched the collar like it was the only thing keeping her soul inside her skin. No cries. No moans. Just silence. That silence—so unlike her—shredded him. The car skidded to a halt at the private gates. Before the engine finished dying, Iden was out. He tore open her door and swept her into his arms. Her arm dangled limp, blood trailing behind them like a broken promise. “Stay with me, Ellaya,” he whispered into her hair as the elevator rose. His voice cracked. “Please hold on.” Th
Ellaya hesitated at the doorway, inhaling deeply. The house still clung to her—whispering ghosts through dust-laden air, pressing its past into her skin. Every shadow murmured stories; memories coiled in the wood and stone, weaving a tapestry of love, deception, and ruin. Her fingers trembled as they brushed the door. It creaked open with a reluctant groan. Silence devoured her whole. She stepped inside. The wooden floor groaned beneath her boots—each step a slow echo, like the thudding heartbeat of the house itself. The air was thick, stale, carrying the weight of forgotten arguments and kisses that had long since turned cold. Then— “Why?” The word sliced through the silence like a blade. She froze. That voice—deep, steady, sharpened by restrained rage—hit her like a gunshot to the soul. Her head snapped to the left. Iden sat on the single worn-out sofa. Legs sprawled. Fingers steepled. Shadows sliced across his face, obscuring the storm underneath—a mixture of grief an
The overweight, middle-aged man pulled Ellaya closer by the waist, reeking of sweat and stale cologne. He leaned in, breath hot against her ear. "It’s time to taste my favorite drink," he whispered, his voice thick with sleaze. Ellaya giggled, head thrown back in mock delight. “Mmm, lucky me,” she purred, her fingers brushing his bloated stomach. Her neck-length short red hair bounced with the motion, and when she smiled, her snow-white teeth framed by blood-red lips seemed almost too perfect—almost dangerous. His eyes drank her in with animalistic hunger.“God, you’re a piece of work.” He shoved the door open and tossed her onto the plush bed. She bounced twice, landing with deliberate grace. Her eyes flicked to the hidden camera inside the ornate painting. She smiled—seductive, knowing. --- Iden sat in silence, watching her every move. Every glance. Every breath. His hand clenched around the armrest, knuckles white. His chest burned, rage simmering like wildfire under h
The air turned suffocating the moment Iden stepped inside the house. The walls pulsed with the echo of raised voices—harsh, fractured, and unforgiving. “As far as I remember, I made myself clear years ago,” Mayor Ruan said coolly, wiping his glasses with slow precision before slipping them back on. His fingers trembled—just enough to betray the storm beneath his calm. “We are done with them.” Across the room, Kai sat with deceptive ease, spine straight, jaw clenched. His voice cut through the static like a blade. “And as far as I remember, they’re still her blood.” The tension snapped into silence. Then came a sound like a splintering bone—a choked sob. Iden turned sharply. His mother was hunched on the couch, her face crumpled in tears. He rushed to her side, kneeling, his hand enveloping hers. “Mom, what happened?” The softness in his tone barely masked the urgency pulsing beneath it. Luna sniffled, voice breaking through the tremor of her grief. “Your uncle’s family
A sharp spin— Cold lips crashed against hers, slamming her back into the jagged brick wall. The scent hit her first. That same deep cologne—smoke, cedar, danger. Then came the ghostly chill of his skin, colder than memory. Her eyes flew open. His were shut, lost in the kiss. His mouth moved over hers slowly, deliberately, tongue tracing hers like a scar reopening. His palm gripped her waist, thumb circling in soft, possessive motions through the thin fabric of her dress. His other hand cupped her jaw with something like reverence. She was caught—breathless between flesh and stone—heart thrashing, body frozen. Heat bloomed in her chest. The kiss drugged her for a heartbeat—seductive, toxic, cruel. Tears burned the corners of her eyes. Nostalgia, sharp and brutal, surged up her throat— Then— A brutal knee to the gut. A groan tore the silence of the alley. Ellaya shoved him off her. He stumbled back, stunned by the force behind her strike. Straightening slowly, he clutched his s
Ellaya crouched behind a crumbling wall, her breath slow, deliberate—the kind you take before a kill. She lit a cigarette with steady hands, the flare briefly illuminating her sharp features. She inhaled the smoke with calm, predatory ease. "Time to say hello to dear daddy," she whispered, flicking the cigarette into the darkness. Her fingers closed around a jagged stone, its rough edges biting into her palm. With a sharp flick, she hurled it deep into the woods. Ahead, a cluster of gangsters lounged around a battered table, their laughter rolling like distant thunder across the night. The heavy air reeked of sweat, gun oil, and cheap beer—thick enough to taste. A heartbeat— Silence. Then— Alarms shrieked, cutting the night like wounded animals. Chairs scraped. Men cursed. The lazy haze of gambling shattered into frantic motion. She moved. A whisper in the dark. The warehouse swallowed her whole. Inside, the smell of gasoline and rust curled around her
Ellaya’s fists clenched, the muscles in her arms coiling with the familiar anticipation of combat. Across from her, the man charged — a wall of fury, his rage radiating like heat off an open flame. She didn’t move. Not yet. Every second stretched into infinity. Her breath was steady, slow. Then — with a snap of motion — she twisted sideways and drove her elbow into his ribs. The sickening thud cracked through the air. He folded instantly, crumpling like a broken doll. Before he even hit the floor, she moved again, hooking his ankle and sending him crashing onto the cold, blood-slicked concrete. The crowd erupted around her — a roar thick and frenzied — but it felt distant, muffled, like noise behind glass. Her world had narrowed to a sharp, merciless focus. Another fighter lunged at her from the side, a blur of desperation. Ellaya caught him mid-strike, pivoting smoothly, her body a blade honed by violence. With a brutal twist, she snapped his arm. The crack echoed louder th