[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
[Arella] I wake up to a strong arm wrapped around my middle, warmth seeping through my back. Sighing and still sleep-laden, I curl deeper into the warm embrace. It’s so comforting, so safe, that I almost don’t want to leave the moment. The arm around me tightens, pulling me closer, and I feel a flutter in my chest. "Don't move around more, Arella. I'm having a hard time controlling myself." I stiffen immediately, and that's when I notice something hard pressed against my backside. My body warms immediately at the realization, a rush of heat flooding my face. "S-sorry," my breath comes out shaky, and Lincoln chuckles, the deep sound rumbling through his chest. "You need to stop apologizing for every little thing, Ella," he says in that deep, morning voice of his, making my heart race in response. My nod is immediate, but he groans, and the next second, I’m flipped onto my back, a startled gasp escaping me. His eyes are intense, hungry with something I can’t quite nam
[Lincoln] Her fear shifts into fierce anger as she stands, her movements sharp. Her fingers curl into fists, trembling slightly as though the anger is barely contained. “I need to go see Deric.” My stomach drops, the light mood from lunch vanishing like smoke. Her hands shake as she clutches her phone tight, but her face is blank—too blank. I catch the faint shimmer of unshed tears clinging to her lashes, but she blinks them away. “I’ll have the driver prepare the car,” I say, rising to my feet. My voice is steady, though tension coils tight in my chest. She shakes her head quickly. “No, no, I’ll handle it on my own.” Her rejection stings, a sharp jab to my pride. Without hesitation, I grab her hands, their chill against my skin startling. I lift one hand to my face, holding her gaze. “Who am I?” My voice is low, unyielding. Her breath catches, and her response is soft, barely a whisper. “My husband.” The words land like a balm on my soul, flooding me with glee. It’s
[Deric]Did Lincoln just say wife? He married Arella? He married that vile woman?!But how—and why? My head throbs as I wince, picking myself up from the cold, unforgiving floor. The faint scent of coffee lingers in the air, but it does nothing to soothe the sick feeling pooling in my chest. The thought of that wench married and happily pregnant is a bitter pill to swallow.Running a hand through my hair, I pick up my rumpled jacket. My face stings, each throb a sharp reminder of the punches I endured. The ride back to my place feels endless, the city flashing by like ghostly taunts. I'd driven alone, hoping to get rid of that wench and get back to my sweet Vivi on time, but it looks like fate has other plans.Dread claws up my spine. Nobody messes with Lincoln Sawyer and gets away scot-free. Behind his gentlemanly behavior lies a beast, just waiting for the right opportunity to shred his opponent to pieces.The familiar warmth of my apartment does little to comfort me when I st
~PRESENT~[Lincoln]“Yes, it's me”, she whispers softly. “It's really you, Lincoln. I'm not d-dreaming, am I?”Her voice slams into me like a ghost of something I should remember. Like the echo of a dream I was never supposed to forget. It's soft... broken... but it shreds through me. It drags something deep inside of me, an aching emptiness, a piece of me that I didn’t even know was missing. And it pulls at me, hard.“Where are you now, Lincoln?” she asks, and I want to respond, but it’s like the words won’t come out.My chest tightens so fast it knocks the air from my lungs. My fingers tremble, gripping the phone like it’s the only thing keeping me tethered to the earth, to the reality I’m struggling to hold on to.And then I hear it again. “Where are you? Why aren’t you s-saying anything?”Everything else fades—the room, the air, even my own thoughts. It’s just her. That voice. Like I’ve been searching for it in every silence, never knowing I was looking for it, never knowing that
[Lincoln]~THREE HOURS EARLIER~“This isn't over, boy.”“I think it already is, Thompson.”These two lines have been haunting me, looping like a broken record in the back of my mind since I rolled out of bed this morning. It’s from that dream, the one I can’t shake, no matter how hard I try. It felt more like a memory than a dream. The setting was some kind of grand celebration, flashing lights, the hum of voices, champagne bubbles bursting mid-air—but everything else was smeared and hazy... everything except Dan’s face.His name definitely isn’t Dan.That venom in his eyes when he spat those words—“this isn't over”—it wasn’t the kind of hate you dream up. It was real. A sharp, burning thing that dug into my spine and left scorch marks. He stormed off in the dream, dragging Chloe behind him like a rabid dog on a leash. But even then, no, especially then, I knew her name isn’t Chloe either. It’s Lisa.Too many slip-ups. Too many weird details they pretend not to notice. I’m not stupid,
[Arella]My eyes widen as I stare, mouth agape at Deric and Vivian. What? Rising to my feet, my hands tremble uncontrollably."What are you saying, Deric?" My voice cracks as the words leave, trembling with disbelief. But his eyes… they don’t meet mine. They’re locked on Vivian’s, like she’s the only thing he can see.She looks like death just kissed her. Her already pale face has lost all color, her lips trembling like a leaf in a storm."Answer my question, Vivian! You were behind the wheel of that truck, weren’t you?!" He thunders, his voice slashing through the tension like a blade, making her flinch violently.Anger. Hot, white, scalding anger surges through me like a wildfire, burning away the confusion and planting rage in its place. My mind scrambles, backtracking, clawing at the past for any clue—anything—that could’ve pointed to this. My blood turns to lava under my skin."I-I—" she bursts into tears, her sobs a jagged mess. Crumpling forward, she clutches her head like it’s
[Arella]"Help! Let me out of here! I've been kidnapped! Help!"I roll my eyes, stepping into the room where Vivian’s been locked up for the past two days. She hasn’t been much use, barely stirring after I beat her up—guess I went too hard. But that’s not my problem. The woman had it coming.I take the keys from Zach’s hand, turn them in, and push open the door with force, the impact sending Vivian stumbling to the floor.Her terrified eyes trail up my blazer, finally meeting mine. They widen in shock.“Y-You? How… So, I wasn’t dreaming?”I chuckle lightly, unable to hide the satisfaction in my voice.“You sure as hell weren’t.”Vivian clutches her head, her face twisted in confusion and fear as she screams, “Help! Help! This crazy woman kidnapped me!”I smirk, rolling my shoulders back.“The only crazy person here is you, Vivian.”She yelps in terror, scrambling to her feet. “Scream as loud as you want. This penthouse is soundproof.”Her face pales as the reality sinks in. She looks
[Lincoln ]My stomach growls, a reminder that I haven’t eaten much in the past few days, but it’s hard to enjoy food when everything feels off. I carry my plate of burnt toast from the kitchen into the small, dimly lit living room where I’ve been summoned for breakfast. The space feels cramped, its walls a dull beige that only adds to the weight in the air. Dan and Chloe are already seated, exchanging hushed words.“Good morning, baby,” Chloe says, offering me a smile as I draw nearer, the kind of smile that’s meant to soothe but only makes the pit in my stomach grow heavier. I can't find it in me to return it, so I just nod at both of them, my voice flat as I mutter a stiff, “Good morning.”Dan’s eyes are sharp on me, studying me in a way that’s too knowing, too calculating. I wonder if he can see the change in me, the shift in the way I’ve been acting since I overheard that conversation between them a week ago. It’s like something inside me cracked open, and I can’t unhear what I he
Hey my lovely readers!💖 I know it’s been a little quiet around here, but I’m back! 😅 I’m so sorry for the break, but starting tomorrow, daily updates are officially back in action! Thank you for your patience and all your love—you're the reason I keep going! I can't wait to dive back into the story with all of you. See you tomorrow! 😉✨
[Arella] Vivian ran like the devil himself was on her heels. Her bare feet slapped against the filthy concrete, the sharp sting of debris cutting into her skin. The air was thick with the scent of rotting dough and mildew, the remnants of a bakery long abandoned, its glory days buried under dust and decay. Her breath came in ragged gasps, each one hitching in her throat as she weaved through the narrow corridors, her frantic movements sending old flour sacks tumbling to the ground. She was fast, I’d give her that. Desperation had a way of making people move like cornered rats, a blend of terror and pure survival instinct. But I wasn’t about to let her scurry away. Not this time. I chased after her, vaulting over overturned crates, my boots thudding heavily against the grimy floor. My pulse thundered in my ears, my lungs burning with exertion, but the fire only fueled me. Every step I took, every inch I gained, I thought about what this woman had done to me seven months ago. S
[Arella] Two days later, we finally located the only bakery in Backwater Alley. True to the city’s name, the place was utterly demented. The snarls and sneers we received from passersby sent a chill slithering down my spine, despite the heavy security flanking me. It wasn’t just the people that made this place hell—it was everything. The very air felt wrong, thick with the scent of rot and dampness, like misery had been ground into the pavement for generations. The streets reeked of filth and desperation, a choking combination of decay and stale piss, and even with the promise of protection, a thick wave of unease clung to my skin like a second layer. Deric, on the other hand, was visibly cowering, his head ducked so low I half-expected him to burrow into the ground. He flinched at every sound, his breath coming in shallow gasps as we passed through each ‘checkpoint’—clusters of men loitering with sharp eyes and even sharper knives, their silent appraisal as damning as a blade ag
[Arella] Deric leads us to a restaurant that's just as rundown as that bar, but at least the air inside isn't nauseating. The dim lighting does little to hide the grime-streaked walls, and the wooden chairs creak ominously as we settle down. The stench of stale grease lingers in the air, but it’s a small mercy compared to the overwhelming stench of alcohol from before. I speak first, my voice sharp. "Where have you been? What are you doing all the way in Chicago?" He clears his throat, his eyes locked onto mine with an emotion I can't quite place—adoration, maybe? Like he can't believe I'm sitting right in front of him. That only makes my patience thinner. "You're going to have to start talking, Deric, because trust me, I have other ways to make you talk." "Water... please," he croaks out, his voice dry and weak. Zach signals to one of his men, never leaving my side for a single second. The moment the bottle is placed in front of him, Deric chugs it down like a man starved, g