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
[Arella]The dining area is bathed in soft sunlight pouring through tall glass windows, reflecting off the polished marble floors. I sit at the expansive wooden table, its surface gleaming under the light, with a small plate of sliced apples in front of me. I'm alone at the table, Lincoln had told me last night that he wouldn't make it for breakfast because of a board meeting.My stomach feels hollow after throwing up–yet again, and I bring a an apple slice to my mouth, hoping its sweetness will settle me.The butter–sweet, tangy taste soothes my taste buds, momentarily easing the nausea twisting in my gut. It’s still my first trimester, so tell me why the only thing I can enjoy in the morning without throwing up is mayo-covered apple slices. Heaven knows what my weird cravings will be like as the months come along. “Need more apples, my dear?” Rita’s warm, maternal voice floats over from the kitchen area. She moves toward me with a concerned smile.I shake my head, rubbing my tu
[Arella]“Oh please, you don’t have to call me that,” Bridget giggles, her voice light and melodic as she leads me to our favorite spot at the back. The warm, familiar ambiance of Morty’s wraps around me like a cozy blanket.I wonder if Morty, the owner, still works here. He was already quite old back in college, with a twinkle in his eye and stories that could fill a library.“But I do, Your Highness,” I tease, lips curving into a playful smirk, and Bridget just shakes her head, her cheeks flushing faintly.I’m not joking, though—Bridget is a real-life princess of a small Scandinavian country in Europe, though she’s always been more down-to-earth than royal.We sit, settling into the worn but inviting leather booth. Our orders are taken by a cute little girl on rollerblades. Cliché, I know, but it’s charming, like something out of an old movie.Feeling my hands being clasped by Bridget’s soft, slightly cool fingers, I look up. Her baby-blue eyes glisten with unshed tears, reflecti
[Lincoln]“Welcome home, Mrs. Sawyer,” I say, my voice calm yet firm, startling Arella as she turns to see me seated on the dark leather couch, illuminated only by the soft amber glow of the fireplace. The large living room seems even bigger in the dim light, with the fire casting moving shadows on the marble floor.The staff retired to their quarters early today because I wanted to spend some quality time with my wife.Imagine my shock when I didn’t see her home—no texts, no calls. I went a little paranoid—not that she needed to know that, though.“Heyy…Lincoln,” she replies in an awkward voice, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the strap of her handbag.My lips twitch, and I fight back a smile.I’m supposed to be angry, but I guess I can’t—not when she looks like an adorably stunned hamster, her wide eyes shimmering under the soft light.Keeping my voice flat, I continue with a practiced stoic face, “The driver tells me you declined his offer to take you out.” My tone is even,
[Arella]The dim light from the bedside lamp fills our cozy bedroom with a soft, golden glow. The air smells faintly of lavender from the candles on the nightstand filling the silence between us. Lincoln’s shoulders slump, and my heart drops for some reason."I'm sorry," the words come out as a whisper, barely audible."You don't want to work with me?" His voice is low, tinged with disbelief.Deciding against lying, I nod truthfully, and he chuckles sadly, the sound hollow and distant."Can I at least have a reason? You declined it without going through it all" His gaze is steady."It's not what you're thinking, Lincoln. It's just that…it wouldn't be right handing me the position of Chief Officiating Officer of Sawyer Group," I explain, feeling my fingers tremble slightly."With your numerous qualifications, nobody would say a word even if I make you the CEO, Arella. Tell me the real reason." His voice tightens just enough to make my chest constrict.I swallow, reaching out to hold
[Arella]“My memories are back.”The words sound in my head like a bad omen, curling around me like smoke, thick and suffocating. For a moment, my heart stops.There was a time when I dreamed of this—of him remembering, of him looking at me the way he used to, of the boy I fell in love with in my sophomore year coming back to me.But things change.People change.And Deric? He became something else entirely.Apart from the small, fleeting shock that zips across my skin, I feel nothing now. Nothing but pure, numbing apathy.But beside me, there’s something else—something sharp, electric.Lincoln.The energy radiating from him is different, dangerous. A nervous, explosive energy, coiled tight like a wire about to snap. I can feel his restraint, the way his muscles lock in place, his breathing steady but tense.He’s waiting. Holding back.For me.For my move.Keeping my face blank, I yank my hands away with force, stepping back a few inches. My voice comes out steady, deceptively cold.“
[Arella]Vivian is the first to notice me. Her eyes widen, not just from the sting of Deric’s slap but from the fact that I saw it happen. Despite the firestorm raging inside me, a self-satisfied smirk tugs at my lips. Trouble in paradise? I wonder what woman is strong enough to break these two apart.I ignore her. She’s insignificant. My gaze zeroes in on Deric, and he’s already looking at me. His eyes also wide but hold something foreign—something sickening. Like I’m the light in his dark world. Like… how he used to look at me.Disgust coils in my stomach.He steps closer, his fingers twitching as if reaching for me. But, all I see is him, drenched in a drunken haze, tossing money at my foster mother’s dying body like she was some disposable trash.“Arella…” His voice cracks. “It’s… you. I’m not dreaming, am I?”My hand moves before I even think. The sharp crack echoes through the room, my palm meeting his cheek with enough force to tilt his head to the side. But I don’t feel the s
[Arella]The ringing in my ears is deafening, a sharp, unbearable screech that drowns out everything else. My heart pounds against my ribs, hammering so hard I swear it might break through. What did she just say?"What?!" I sputter, the words barely forming as the world tilts on its axis. My throat is dry, my pulse a wild, erratic mess. I watch Ava’s lips move, the syllables barely escaping before her eyes dim."It was...Deric Smith…"Then, she collapses against my shoulder, her body going limp like a marionette doll with its strings cut.A strangled sound escapes me. Panic—raw and unforgiving—roars through my veins, squeezing my lungs like a vise."Doctor! Doctor!" I scream, my voice breaking, my hands gripping her lifeless body. It feels like an eternity before the door bursts open and the doctor rushes in, a nurse trailing behind her. They don’t hesitate. I’m shoved aside, my arms suddenly empty, and I stumble back, disoriented.My breathing is erratic, the walls pressing in, the h
[Arella]Giving Lincoln one last look of reassurance, I follow the doctor into Ava’s ward. Two nurses are flocking around her, checking her pulse. The sterile scent of the hospital room fills the air, mixing with the anxiety that seems to hang in the atmosphere. Ava’s eyes jump around, frantic, her movements tense like she’s scared that even the slightest touch will hurt her. It twists something deep inside me—this isn’t my Ava.Her eyes instinctively catch mine, and I feel a lump rise in my throat. The tears in her eyes are like a punch to the gut. She’s lost, broken, and it feels like the world has fallen apart for her."Ava?" I say softly, my voice cracking as I step closer."Ella?" she asks, her voice so fragile it feels like she’s whispering to the air, unsure if she’s truly seeing me or if I’m just a figment of her shattered mind."Hi, baby," I coo gently, moving closer. I sit on the bed beside her, wrapping my arms around her trembling body. Her arms respond immediately, but th
Cold, sterile stench of the hospital clings to me like a second skin as I hurry down the dimly lit corridor, my pulse pounding so loudly it drowns out the sound of my heels clicking against the floor. The bright overhead lights feel too harsh, the air too cold, and my whole body is tight with panic. "Calm down," Lincoln whispers beside me, his hand finding mine, his grip firm and reassuring. Calm down? How am I supposed to calm down when my sister is in critical condition? When I am supposed to be on my honeymoon, yet here I am, sprinting toward a doctor’s office like my life depends on it? My chest heaves as I force myself to breathe, trying to push back the overwhelming fear clawing at me. Then I spot My mother-in-law, She sits stiffly in a chair outside the doctor’s office, her hands clasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles have turned white. Her usually warm eyes are clouded with worry, her lips pressed into a thin, trembling line. The second she sees me, her expres
[Deric]This migraine will be the death of me."Bring me more bottles!" I roar at the bartender, my voice thick with alcohol and fury. The dim lighting of the bar barely does anything to soothe the pounding in my skull, the ache digging in deep like a knife.The bartender flinches, his face paling. “S-Sir, I think you’ve had enough,” he stammers, his Spanish accent tangling with his words.Enough?I jerk up so fast the stool scrapes against the floor, the sound grating against my ears. Grabbing him by the collar, I twist it hard, pulling him close enough to see the panic flashing in his eyes."Listen here, buddy. If you don’t get me more bottles of beer right now—""Whoa, whoa!"A strong grip yanks me back. My vision sways. The migraine slashes through my skull, and I almost collapse right there if not for the thick, muscular arms shoving me down onto my stool.A man looms over me—a huge guy with a thick mustache and a jagged gash running across his left eye. He mutters something in S
[Arella]"Oh, c'mon, Lincoln, not this again."My eyes roll as a pout tugs at my lips. I know he can’t resist when I do that."Our honeymoon’s almost over—we should make the most of it," I plead, tugging his arm repeatedly like a child."We should," he finally turns to face me, a scowl on his handsome face, his deep honey brown eyes flickering with something sinful. "Like every other normal honeymooners, we should be in bed all day for the next two days before we go back."A look of horror flashes across my face, and Lincoln immediately chokes on his suppressed laugh.I take a step back, my core tightening at the memory of last night—his punishment. The way he handled me like I was nothing but his to ruin, the way his voice dropped to that deadly whisper before…No. No way in hell.His laugh settles, but his gaze doesn’t waver. He knows. He knows exactly what I’m thinking about, and I hate that. Heat rushes to my cheeks, and he clicks his tongue, his lips curving into that wicked smir
[Arella]Pulling out the towel Lincoln packed for me, I wrap it around her shivering frame. Her skin is cool to the touch, damp with seawater, and her breath is still uneven from the near-drowning."Thank you," she whispers softly, almost as if she’s still in shock.“You're welco—”“Thank you!” she repeats, louder this time. But her eyes aren’t on me anymore; they’re locked onto Lincoln.My socially awkward husband, who doesn’t even acknowledge her. He just brushes past us like she doesn’t exist, heading straight for his phone on the table. No glance. No nod. Just complete, ice-cold disregard.I want to facepalm myself.Her face falls slightly, her shoulders drooping just a bit before she looks back at me with an uncertain expression. "Help me thank your brother. I really do appreciate it."My brows furrow. Brother? Did Lincoln and I look… alike? I let out an awkward laugh, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "He's my husband actually, and don't worry—he's glad to help. Jus
[Lincoln]With my pulse drumming in my ears, I bolt out of my seat, every noise fading beneath the roaring waves of the ocean. My mind hones in on one thing—my wife…drowning the water. Fuck. What was she thinking?Without hesitation, I dive in, my body slicing through the surface as cold water engulfs me. A figure is sinking lower, deeper. My muscles burn as I push forward, lungs tight, heart slamming against my ribs. I reach out, my fingers wrapping around an ankle before I shift to grab her waist.Something suddenly feels... off.A prickle runs down my spine, but my subconscious pushes it aside. Not now. I haul her upward, breaking through the surface, my movements frantic. Water cascades off us as I drag her toward the shore, my steps hurried, my pulse erratic. Her face is completely covered by thick, wet black hair, and that nagging sensation creeps up my spine again.I barely register the growing crowd gathering on the sand. Focus. Adrenaline fills my veins, making my hands shak