[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
[Lincoln] "I wanted to see my wife," I reply, unashamed. Arella rolls her eyes. "You saw me this morning," she retorts, her tone clipped but playful. I shake my head slowly, holding her gaze. "Doesn't matter. Had lunch yet?" She flushes, her lips twitching with guilt. "Would you believe a yes?" "I wouldn't," I reply, my jaw tightening at her carelessness. "Get in," I command firmly, my voice leaving no room for argument. "What? Now? I’m at work, you know," she protests, exasperated but already moving toward the car. I give her a pointed look. With a resigned sigh, she slips into the passenger seat, smoothing her skirt with jittery fingers. Reaching into the back seat, I grab the small flask of food and place it in her hands. Her eyes brighten instantly, a spark of joy softening her tense features. "You got me food?" she asks, her voice rising with surprise. "Hmm." I hum, savoring her reaction. Before she can say more, I grab her chin with controlled intensity and press my li
[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
[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 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,
[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
[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
[Arella]The door to the bathroom pushes open, and I can feel the urgency radiating off my husband before I even see him."Arella."His voice snaps me out of the haze of nothingness in my head."Huh?" I reply absentmindedly, barely registering him, my toes peeking above the surface of the water in the tub."You've been in here for more than an hour, love.""I have?" The answer slips out automatically, my voice distant.Today has dragged on forever. From Ava—her confession—to Deric and his memories… it all feels like too much. Like a storm swallowing me whole. My brain feels numb, detached, floating somewhere outside my body.After storming off with Lincoln in hand, I had barely registered coming home, nor the process of stepping into the bath. I don’t even recall undressing. The only real thing is the ice-cold bite of the water against my skin—sharp, unforgiving.That’s it. That’s the only sensation I feel.I barely register my naked body being lifted from the tub. My head swings slig
[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