[Arella]Lincoln lets me back down gently, and I can feel his anger bubbling as he stalks toward Deric, who's yelling at the top of his voice."Can someone tell me what's Omph!—"His words are cut short as Lincoln grips his collar tightly.""You! This is on you!" Lincoln's voice thunders, his fury palpable. "Is this how you organize a gala? Allowing any random degenerate to slip in unnoticed? Look at that drunkard over there!" He points sharply toward Frank, his tone seething with disdain. "He tried to assault Arella!"Gasps echo around us, and I realize they’re from Vivian, Kaitlin, and a few others from the party. Something feels off about they way they all piled in at once—very off—but I’m too stunned to speak, too scared to say anything. My hand instinctively goes to my stomach. Did I lose my baby? The thought creeps in, and my heart twists painfully. Surely that would be too much of a stretch… right?"That’s not a drunkard! He’s my friend!" Deric’s eyes turn to me, blazing with
[Arella] The steady beeping sound of a machine slowly lures me awake. My head feels heavy, like it’s stuffed with cotton. Where am I? My eyes flutter open to find walls that are sterile and white. The smell of antiseptic fills my nose as a lady in a white coat looms above me. “Good, you’re awake. How do you feel now, ma’am?” she asks, helping me sit up slowly. I blink, my mind clearing. Last night comes rushing back. I must have fainted. “I feel okay. Just a little groggy.” She nods and continues her checks. I wonder where Lincoln is, he probably left already. That thought makes me sad and I don't know why. “Do you know where the man—” “You mean your husband, right?” the doctor interrupts with a wide grin. “He just stepped out a few minutes ago. He watched you all night, you know. Such a loving man.” My ears perk up. My husband? Is she talking about Lincoln? He watched me all night? I feel my cheeks heat up, a pink flush spreading across my face. But thoughts of
[Arella]"Accept the papers, Kaitlin. I quit."The office feels suffocating, the sharp scent of stale coffee and papers only adding to the tension. Kaitlin’s eyes flash with fury as she snatches the papers from my hand with a sneer."Frank was right after all. You’re just a sleazy bitch that’s managed to cling to another big shot."Her words feel like sharp knives aimed at me, but I refuse to flinch. They bounce off me like air as my face remains impassive. I won't give her the satisfaction of a reaction."I will not be paying the fine, Kaitlin," I state firmly, my voice unwavering despite the storm building inside me.Seconds pass before she bursts into laughter. The sound like a fork scraping a chalkboard, against my ears."You think I’ll let you quit without the fine of a thousand dollars? Or do you think, because Lincoln Sawyer is backing you up, you’re a queen now? Look here, let me tell you—"Slamming my hand on her desk, the sharp thud echoes across the small room. She squea
[Arella] “You’re fucking pregnant with my child, you shameless woman!” The venom in Deric’s voice strikes me like a slap. My eyes widen, and my heart slams against my ribs. “What are you even saying? I’m not pregnant!” I yell, yanking at his iron grip on my wrist. My palms are clammy, and a cold sweat trickles down my back as panic claws at me. How did he find out? Was it because I threw up? Am I showing any other signs? “Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I manage, my voice trembling despite my best efforts. “Liar!” he spits, his face contorted with anger. “Okay, fine! I’m pregnant! But it’s not yours, so back off!” I glare at him, hoping to pierce through his delusion. He’s always been infuriating since getting together with Vivian, but this... this is just madness. His grip tightens as his eyes blaze with an unhinged fury. His fingers latch onto my jaw, squeezing painfully, forcing me to face him. His breath is hot, stifling, and reeks of arrog
[Lincoln]"Open your eyes. C'mon, Ella, open your eyes!" I keep shaking her, desperation making my voice hoarse. Her face is pale, too pale, like all the life is draining out of her. There’s blood—so much blood—pooling under her legs, staining the pristine floor of the stairwell. My blood runs cold, and my hands tremble as I scoop her limp body into my arms. The metallic scent of blood fills my nostrils, mixing with the faint aroma of her vanilla perfume. My eyes dart to the top of the stairs. And there he is. Deric. His face is frozen in shock, his mouth slightly open. Fury slams through me, hot and unrelenting, like fire coursing through my veins. My fists clench, my knuckles aching with the need to hurt him. But Deric isn’t what matters right now. Arella is. Her head lolls against my chest as I move briskly toward the car, my heart pounding. Every second feels like a lifetime. My throat tightens, and I shout at my driver, my voice raw and unrecognizable. "To the hos
[Lincoln]Quietly, I slip into the chair beside Arella’s bed, the sterile smell of antiseptic filling my nose. Her pale face is lit by the soft glow of the hospital lights, and the steady beeping of the heart monitor serves as a haunting reminder of how close I came to losing her. Taking her hand in mine, I feel the warmth of her skin, a small reassurance that she’s still here.It’s been two days already. The doctors say her condition is stable, but if that’s true, why hasn’t she opened her eyes? My chest feels heavy, my mind racing with unanswered questions. Clasping her small hand a little tighter, I bring it to my lips, the desperation in my voice breaking through.“Wake up, Arella. Please.”She stirs, a faint movement that sets my heart pounding. Her lashes flutter, and slowly, like the most magical thing in the world, she opens her eyes. Relief floods me, but it’s short-lived as her eyes widen, fear overwhelming them.“No! My baby!” she cries, her hand flying to her stomach.
[Arella]“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer,” a woman says as we step out of the courthouse. Her voice carries over the light chatter of the street, and I glance up at the towering columns behind us, the weight of what just happened sinking in.Mrs. Sawyer. The title feels foreign and unreal. I’ve really become Mrs. Sawyer. My heart flutters in disbelief as I tighten my grip on Lincoln’s hand.“Thank you, Janet,” Lincoln responds smoothly, his deep voice steady as he turns to me with a smile. The sunlight gleams off his dark hair, perfectly combed back, giving him a movie-star glow. “This is Janet, my personal assistant.”Nodding, I meet Janet’s kind eyes. She’s a petite woman with short auburn hair and a warm demeanor, dressed in a beige blazer that says professional yet approachable.“Nice to meet you, Janet,” I say, my voice soft.Janet’s gaze flickers between Lincoln and me before she smiles brightly. “You’re so beautiful. No wonder the boss couldn’t control himself.”Linco
It’s nighttime by the time the car rolls through the towering gates, and I can’t help but gasp at how huge the mansion is. The structure seems to stretch endlessly, illuminated by soft, golden lights that make its grandeur even more striking. Large windows reflect the night sky, and perfectly manicured gardens line the path leading to the entrance, their flowers still vibrant under the soft glow of garden lamps. Everything about it is breathtaking—like something out of a fairytale.As the car stops, Lincoln steps out, signaling me to stay inside. He strides confidently around to my side, his footsteps echoing lightly on the stone driveway. He opens my door with practiced ease, leaning slightly to offer me his hand.“Careful,” he says softly, his tone carrying a gentleness that’s hard to ignore.I step out cautiously, my shoes making the faintest sound against the smooth surface beneath. My eyes dart to a line of servants forming near the grand entrance. Their uniforms are immacul
[Kendall]My pulse races, anticipation thrumming through me like a live wire, and he watches me with a smirk that’s both reassuring and maddeningly confident. His eyes are dark with desire, but there’s something else beneath the surface, something I can’t quite place.“You’re so beautiful, Kendall,” he murmurs, his voice thick with need. He slides a hand down my thigh, the roughness of his fingertips sending shivers along my skin, as if he’s marking me, leaving traces of his touch everywhere. My body trembles under the weight of it, a hunger igniting deep inside.His words send a strange, warm ache through my chest, and I reach up, pulling him back down to me, desperate to feel his weight, his warmth, against me. The heat of his body presses into mine, each inch of him a reminder of how badly I’ve wanted this, how long I’ve been fighting this pull between us. His breath, hot and ragged, dances across my neck as he moves, making me dizzy.He cups his hand against my pussy, and the heat
[Arella]Vivian turns to face me, her eyes widening in shock. Her blood-red lipstick falters slightly, though she quickly schools her expression. She’s dressed to impress, wearing a fitted white blazer with gold accents and matching high-waisted trousers, her stilettos clicking nervously against the tiled floor. Her sleek, chestnut-brown hair falls perfectly over her shoulders—too perfect, too practiced.“A-Arella?” she says incredulously, her voice trembling just enough to seem genuine. “What are you doing here?”I arch a brow, my pulse quickening—not with fear, but with simmering resentment. Her audacity still manages to surprise me.“I should be asking you that, Vivian,” I snap, keeping my voice cold and steady. “Haven’t you already been informed that we do not wish to work with Ames Finances?”The flicker of embarrassment in her eyes is brief before she recovers, her expression hardening.“And what gave you the right to turn down Ames Finances?” she prods, her voice sharp. Gon
[Arella]"I'd gladly bring you to Nevada next time, even if you don't have a doctor's appointment. You really seemed to enjoy yourself," Lincoln says, his deep, smooth voice carrying a teasing undertone as he leads me out of his Bentley. The cool evening air brushes against my skin, a stark contrast to the cozy warmth inside the car. His hand rests on my lower back, steady and protective.We spent the weekend in Nevada, indulging in a world that felt distant from reality, only landing this evening. It's a weekday already. Bridget's gonna give me an earful for vanishing like that. "I'd like that," I say, meaning it more than I should. His lips curl into a slow, satisfied smile that makes my heart lurch, traitorous as ever."Or we could go somewhere more exotic for our honeymoon," he whispers that last part just for me, his breath grazing my ear like a forbidden secret.The mansion looms before us, grand and imposing, its towering pillars gleaming under the soft glow of garden lights
[Deric]"What do you mean you're canceling the deal? This is unacceptable, I–hello? Hello?!""Fuck!" I snap, slamming my fist against the polished oak conference table, the sharp sound reverberating across the room. The board of directors seated across from me flinch, their faces pale and tense."Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" My breathing quickens, chest tightening. "We're losing everything! How did this happen?" My voice cracks with desperation."W-we have no clue," one of the men stammers, beads of sweat gathering at his temple. "It's as if we're intentionally being blacklisted by some force."His words send a chill down my spine. Blacklisted? By who? Why now?"What does that even mean?" I respond sharply, my voice cutting through the stifling air. "This issue isn't confined to San Diego—our suppliers and recruits are terminating contracts across the entire state of California!"How is it possible that no one wants to work with Ames Finances? The company I built with blood, sweat, and ruthles
[Lincoln] "W-what?!" Arella lets out a startled gasp. "H-how did it happen?" "I don't know," I say, trying to keep my cool despite the storm brewing inside me. "I'm going to need you to calm down, baby. Can you do that for me?" "Lincoln…" she starts, fear widening her eyes, her breath coming in shallow pants. "Please, Ella," I plead, my eyes flicking back to the road as the car swerves dangerously. There's a large field coming up. It's fenced, but that isn't going to be a problem—not if I can help it. "Are your seat belts on?" I ask, my voice tight with controlled urgency. Her watery eyes meet mine. "Lincoln… I'm scared," she admits, trembling. The car jerks violently, nearly spinning out of control. Despite my calm façade, my head pounds with a thousand chaotic thoughts. Nothing must happen to them. Nothing. "Are your seat belts intact, Arella?" I ask again, firmer this time. She nods with a sob, clutching her seatbelt tightly as if it could anchor her to safet
[Lincoln] The ambiance of the 7-star Michelin restaurant is almost suffocatingly posh, reeking of old money and self-importance. Crystal chandeliers dangle from the high ceiling, their cold light shimmering off gold-accented walls. The faint hum of soft classical music seeps into the room, blending with the clink of fine cutlery and quiet murmurs of privileged patrons. Why Clement Thompson chose this particular restaurant for a simple lunch is beyond me. It feels like I’ve walked into a live-action display of "Who’s the Richest?" “Right this way, Mr. Sawyer.” A lady with a crisp British accent, dressed in an immaculately tailored suit, leads me through the maze of lavishly decorated tables to a private room. The air is thick with the scent of aged wine and freshly baked bread. Seating in front of Mr. Thompson, I relax my posture, though every instinct tells me to be on guard. His sharp, calculating eyes study me like I’m both a challenge and a prize he intends
[Arella]The hot summer sun beats down, its harsh rays bouncing off Mr. Malcolm's bald head. I sit up straighter, tilting my head to avoid the glare coming through the open window. The office feels warm, with the AC struggling to keep the heat at bay.“What is the matter, Mr. Malcolm?” I ask calmly, masking my irritation.“Oh, please, cut that bullshit, young lady!” he snaps, his voice sharp and abrasive, echoing through the quiet office.I arch a brow, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. Funny how bold he is now that Bridget is out on business. His audacity is as suffocating as the humid air hanging heavily in the office.“I'll ask again, Mr. Malcolm. What is the matter?”He storms forward and slams a crumpled piece of paper on my desk, his thick fingers trembling with barely restrained rage.“This! This is the matter! What do you think of yourself, eh? That you can just come here and change the order of things? My project with the Ames finances will not be cut off the vision board,
[Arella]Turning my worried eyes away from Ava, who looked like she'd seen a ghost, I turn to none other than Deric. The air feels thick, like something heavy is about to drop, and it settles in the pit of my stomach. I swear, it’s like fate is always playing a cruel joke on me, making me cross paths with this scumbag at the worst possible time.I scoff immediately, the sound sharp and biting, as I feel the blood rush to my face in anger. "Why can't I be here? Is the mall yours?" He smiles smugly, his lips curling into a mocking grin. "I should be asking you this same question. I'm here to get an engagement ring for my soon-to-be wife, Vivian."He emphasizes her name like it’s some kind of victory. Like I should care. “Not like you would know anything about that”, he adds, the jab aimed right at me…I don't even know if I should call this a jab though, seems pathetic.My smile turns brighter, forced but sharp. "Well, my husband closed down the mall for today. It'd be in your best in
[Arella]The weekend rolls by, and despite how drained I feel from my first week at Chanax, I’m excited to see my sister again.The car pulls up, its engine purring softly as it comes to a stop. Without waiting for Lincoln, I push the door open and step out, my shoes crunching against the gravel.“Careful,” he says behind me, his tone carrying a mixture of amusement and mild exasperation. I don’t even have to turn around to know he’s shaking his head at me.The camp air wraps around me, warm and inviting, with the faint scent of pine and freshly turned earth wafting through the breeze. The soft hum of nature fills my ears, broken only by the occasional chirping of birds. Beautiful birds flit between the trees, their bright colors streaking against the dense greenery.Tucked away in the busy city, this camp feels like a sanctuary—a place of hope for children with MDD. My heart swells at the thought of seeing Ava again, of being able to hold her.“Ava!” I squeal, excitement bubbling in