Chapter 1: Lilac How does one reason with a bride convinced that a garden wedding during the rainy season is a splendid idea? I'm walking a tightrope here, trying not to undermine what the bride, Amanda Sykes, envisions as the 'wedding of the century.' Who in their right mind plans an outdoor ceremony when the rain has been relentless for weeks? Kimberly discreetly rolls her eyes, murmuring, "This is such a brilliant notion, isn't it? Marrying Jett Byrd of all people." Franco chuckles softly, his hand covering his mouth as he interjects, "Well, at least he's a living Adonis. Have you seen those piercing eyes of his? Goodness, I might swoon on the spot if he so much as glances my way. And those forearms..." Franco smacks his lips, savoring the mere thought of Jett Byrd, the groom. "What's so terrible about him? You're just against marriage altogether! Yes, he may have been a notorious playboy, but he's turning over a new leaf. He's settling down!" Franco argues. "Enough gossip, yo
Chapter 2: Lilac I secure the chain lock on the shop's front door, making damn sure it's bolted tight. This part of the city isn't exactly a hotspot for late-night strolls. No, it's more like a breeding ground for those lowlife scumbags who think robbing innocent folks is a noble profession. Just take a look at the ransacked buildings scattered across this neighborhood. It's a haunting sight. I glance around, my eyes scouring the dimly lit streets. Damn, I hate walking these mean streets after dark. Thank the heavens, I don't spot any shady characters lurking about. Except for the occasional passersby, heads down and moving fast, there's nothing out of the ordinary. A fleeting moment of relief washes over me. Taking a deep breath, I let out a sigh of relief as I step onto the road, absentmindedly twirling my apartment key between my fingers. My place is just a couple of blocks away, so I figure I can hoof it. The sound of my footsteps echoes through the eerily quiet street, accom
Chapter 3: Jett As soon as Amanda and I step into the restaurant, all eyes fixate on us, or rather, on me. A self-satisfied grin dances upon Amanda's lips as her gaze sweeps the room, pausing to appraise the women who can't help but steal glances at me. I let out a weary sigh, barely noticeable. But truth be told, I can't entirely fault her for reveling in the attention. People view me as a symbol of status—a living, breathing emblem of power and wealth. After all, as the de facto heir and CEO of the formidable Byrd Conglomerate, my company holds stakes in nearly every corner of this country and beyond. To Amanda, or any other woman who might have claimed my affections, I am an embodiment of grandeur. She clings to my arm with a sense of pride, her delicate fingers tracing comforting patterns, while her eyes shimmer with an unspoken declaration of ownership. There's no use denying her claim, especially considering our impending nuptials. Our marriage shall proceed as planned. Yet,
Jett The emergency responders rush onto the scene, their uniforms a blur of neon amidst the chaos. With practiced efficiency, they administer first aid, swiftly stabilizing Lilac before carefully maneuvering her onto the stretcher. With synchronized movements, they load her into the waiting ambulance, the doors slamming shut with a sense of urgency. Relief floods over me as they reassure me of Lilac's condition. Her arm is broken, but her ribs remain intact, a small mercy in this situation. Though her head injury raises concerns, the paramedics assure me it's not severe, though they recommend further testing. Gratitude wells within me. "I'll follow you to the hospital," I inform the paramedic. Returning to my car, my eyes land on Amanda, who's engrossed in fixing her makeup. "What are you doing?" I exclaim, incredulous. While I'm consumed with worry for Lilac, our wedding planner, Amanda seems preoccupied with her appearance. "I have to look good in front of the camera. People wil
Lilac His declaration lands like a blow to the gut, amplifying the throbbing ache of my injuries. I lock gazes with Mr. Byrd, desperately hoping for a glimmer of jest in his steely expression. But his demeanor leaves no room for doubt—this man is deadly serious. A man of his caliber doesn't dabble in humor. My mind whirls, grappling with the grim reality that if he chooses to replace me, I’m truly going to die this time. Emotions surge beneath my composed facade, threatening to erupt. I battle to contain them, though tears threaten to spill down my cheeks. The fate of the shop hangs in the balance, teetering on the brink of falling into the hands of those greedy bastards. And as for me? I'll meet my end somewhere in some ditch as Jane Doe. Anna will probably kill me again, or die trying to get justice for me. Either way, it's a grim outcome. My hands shake as I struggle to find my voice amidst this situation. What could I possibly say to a man so ensconced in the echelons of p
Jett The darkness envelops me like a suffocating shroud, closing in from all sides. I trudge through this bleak expanse, devoid of any glimmer of light or sign of escape. Time slips through my fingers in this damned place. Is this my own personal hell, a punishment for my sins? If so, I deserve it. Suddenly, a piercing sound cuts through the silence, assaulting my senses. I cover my ears instinctively, snapping awake and gasping for air. Reaching for my phone on the nightstand, I silence the blaring alarm. Good Lord, it's just my wake-up call. Running my fingers through my tangled hair, I try to shake off the lingering terror of the nightmare. These recurring nightmares have become increasingly frequent, plaguing me more than they did three months prior. It seems I may need to pay another visit to the therapist, an idea I dread. Who wants to enjoy the company of an old bat who believes she has a license to pry inside my brain? Sadly, she’s the best in the field and I have to do thi
Jett A wave of irritation washes over me, permeating my entire being, as Amanda singlehandedly derails my entire morning. She adamantly refuses to cooperate with the new arrangements for our wedding, transforming what should have been a seamless transition into an absolute train wreck. Now, the thought of replacing not only the wedding coordinator but also the bride herself looms heavily in my mind. Speaking of the coordinator, a deep frown forms on my face as I absentmindedly twirl my ballpoint pen, unable to shake the image of Lilac from my thoughts. It's already 11:23 am, and Lilac is conspicuously absent. I haven’t seen her in two days when she has been hounding me for almost a week now. "Good riddance," I mutter with a tinge of irritation, forcefully pressing the intercom. "Camilla, bring me my lunch promptly," I command, my hand pressed against my protesting stomach. I didn't even have a chance to indulge in the tantalizing pancake this morning, courtesy of Amanda's infur
Lilac I jolt as his shout electrifies every nerve in my body, causing an involuntary flinch. I'm utterly perplexed by his sudden fury, especially considering his days of indifference to my desperate pleas. His vice-like grip around my arm tightens, and a pained groan escapes my lips. "Let me go, damn it!" I hiss, the pain coursing through my arm. The skin around his fingers turns red. I press on, my voice dripping with bitterness, "What's it to you if I meet my death? You've never shown an ounce of concern for my well-being! So, if I'm destined to die, I'd rather embrace death in a car crash than be at the mercy of loan sharks, selling me off or dissecting my organs for profit!" Locked in an intense stare, our eyes become twin blades locked in combat. I stand my ground, refusing to back down. Fighting against his hold, I summon every ounce of strength and snaps, "Let go of me!" I seize his hand, desperately attempting to pry his fingers from mine. "Sir, the lady insists you releas
Jett I flick through the contract that's been occupying my desk for the past three hours. The numbers and details blur together as they pass before my eyes, but my mind refuses to engage.With a snap, I close the folder, drawing in a deep breath. Fantastic, I feel absolutely dreadful. It's been three days since I last laid eyes on Lilac, yet she occupies my thoughts incessantly, like a relentless storm.Isn’t she exhausted by now? The instant I forbade her from stepping foot in the company, I regretted it profoundly, though I can't pinpoint why. Everywhere I turn, her presence lingers.Even the mere thought of restaurant food pales in comparison to her culinary creations. I fear I'm on the brink of losing my sanity.Maybe it’s time to talk to that old bat I’m paying to diagnose my brain. I stand up, stretching a bit. I check my watch, it’s 5:21 pm. My stomach rumbles, voicing its protests. Great, I haven’t had lunch and it’s already time for dinner. I'll just make do with whatever I
Lilac I jolt as his shout electrifies every nerve in my body, causing an involuntary flinch. I'm utterly perplexed by his sudden fury, especially considering his days of indifference to my desperate pleas. His vice-like grip around my arm tightens, and a pained groan escapes my lips. "Let me go, damn it!" I hiss, the pain coursing through my arm. The skin around his fingers turns red. I press on, my voice dripping with bitterness, "What's it to you if I meet my death? You've never shown an ounce of concern for my well-being! So, if I'm destined to die, I'd rather embrace death in a car crash than be at the mercy of loan sharks, selling me off or dissecting my organs for profit!" Locked in an intense stare, our eyes become twin blades locked in combat. I stand my ground, refusing to back down. Fighting against his hold, I summon every ounce of strength and snaps, "Let go of me!" I seize his hand, desperately attempting to pry his fingers from mine. "Sir, the lady insists you releas
Jett A wave of irritation washes over me, permeating my entire being, as Amanda singlehandedly derails my entire morning. She adamantly refuses to cooperate with the new arrangements for our wedding, transforming what should have been a seamless transition into an absolute train wreck. Now, the thought of replacing not only the wedding coordinator but also the bride herself looms heavily in my mind. Speaking of the coordinator, a deep frown forms on my face as I absentmindedly twirl my ballpoint pen, unable to shake the image of Lilac from my thoughts. It's already 11:23 am, and Lilac is conspicuously absent. I haven’t seen her in two days when she has been hounding me for almost a week now. "Good riddance," I mutter with a tinge of irritation, forcefully pressing the intercom. "Camilla, bring me my lunch promptly," I command, my hand pressed against my protesting stomach. I didn't even have a chance to indulge in the tantalizing pancake this morning, courtesy of Amanda's infur
Jett The darkness envelops me like a suffocating shroud, closing in from all sides. I trudge through this bleak expanse, devoid of any glimmer of light or sign of escape. Time slips through my fingers in this damned place. Is this my own personal hell, a punishment for my sins? If so, I deserve it. Suddenly, a piercing sound cuts through the silence, assaulting my senses. I cover my ears instinctively, snapping awake and gasping for air. Reaching for my phone on the nightstand, I silence the blaring alarm. Good Lord, it's just my wake-up call. Running my fingers through my tangled hair, I try to shake off the lingering terror of the nightmare. These recurring nightmares have become increasingly frequent, plaguing me more than they did three months prior. It seems I may need to pay another visit to the therapist, an idea I dread. Who wants to enjoy the company of an old bat who believes she has a license to pry inside my brain? Sadly, she’s the best in the field and I have to do thi
Lilac His declaration lands like a blow to the gut, amplifying the throbbing ache of my injuries. I lock gazes with Mr. Byrd, desperately hoping for a glimmer of jest in his steely expression. But his demeanor leaves no room for doubt—this man is deadly serious. A man of his caliber doesn't dabble in humor. My mind whirls, grappling with the grim reality that if he chooses to replace me, I’m truly going to die this time. Emotions surge beneath my composed facade, threatening to erupt. I battle to contain them, though tears threaten to spill down my cheeks. The fate of the shop hangs in the balance, teetering on the brink of falling into the hands of those greedy bastards. And as for me? I'll meet my end somewhere in some ditch as Jane Doe. Anna will probably kill me again, or die trying to get justice for me. Either way, it's a grim outcome. My hands shake as I struggle to find my voice amidst this situation. What could I possibly say to a man so ensconced in the echelons of p
Jett The emergency responders rush onto the scene, their uniforms a blur of neon amidst the chaos. With practiced efficiency, they administer first aid, swiftly stabilizing Lilac before carefully maneuvering her onto the stretcher. With synchronized movements, they load her into the waiting ambulance, the doors slamming shut with a sense of urgency. Relief floods over me as they reassure me of Lilac's condition. Her arm is broken, but her ribs remain intact, a small mercy in this situation. Though her head injury raises concerns, the paramedics assure me it's not severe, though they recommend further testing. Gratitude wells within me. "I'll follow you to the hospital," I inform the paramedic. Returning to my car, my eyes land on Amanda, who's engrossed in fixing her makeup. "What are you doing?" I exclaim, incredulous. While I'm consumed with worry for Lilac, our wedding planner, Amanda seems preoccupied with her appearance. "I have to look good in front of the camera. People wil
Chapter 3: Jett As soon as Amanda and I step into the restaurant, all eyes fixate on us, or rather, on me. A self-satisfied grin dances upon Amanda's lips as her gaze sweeps the room, pausing to appraise the women who can't help but steal glances at me. I let out a weary sigh, barely noticeable. But truth be told, I can't entirely fault her for reveling in the attention. People view me as a symbol of status—a living, breathing emblem of power and wealth. After all, as the de facto heir and CEO of the formidable Byrd Conglomerate, my company holds stakes in nearly every corner of this country and beyond. To Amanda, or any other woman who might have claimed my affections, I am an embodiment of grandeur. She clings to my arm with a sense of pride, her delicate fingers tracing comforting patterns, while her eyes shimmer with an unspoken declaration of ownership. There's no use denying her claim, especially considering our impending nuptials. Our marriage shall proceed as planned. Yet,
Chapter 2: Lilac I secure the chain lock on the shop's front door, making damn sure it's bolted tight. This part of the city isn't exactly a hotspot for late-night strolls. No, it's more like a breeding ground for those lowlife scumbags who think robbing innocent folks is a noble profession. Just take a look at the ransacked buildings scattered across this neighborhood. It's a haunting sight. I glance around, my eyes scouring the dimly lit streets. Damn, I hate walking these mean streets after dark. Thank the heavens, I don't spot any shady characters lurking about. Except for the occasional passersby, heads down and moving fast, there's nothing out of the ordinary. A fleeting moment of relief washes over me. Taking a deep breath, I let out a sigh of relief as I step onto the road, absentmindedly twirling my apartment key between my fingers. My place is just a couple of blocks away, so I figure I can hoof it. The sound of my footsteps echoes through the eerily quiet street, accom
Chapter 1: Lilac How does one reason with a bride convinced that a garden wedding during the rainy season is a splendid idea? I'm walking a tightrope here, trying not to undermine what the bride, Amanda Sykes, envisions as the 'wedding of the century.' Who in their right mind plans an outdoor ceremony when the rain has been relentless for weeks? Kimberly discreetly rolls her eyes, murmuring, "This is such a brilliant notion, isn't it? Marrying Jett Byrd of all people." Franco chuckles softly, his hand covering his mouth as he interjects, "Well, at least he's a living Adonis. Have you seen those piercing eyes of his? Goodness, I might swoon on the spot if he so much as glances my way. And those forearms..." Franco smacks his lips, savoring the mere thought of Jett Byrd, the groom. "What's so terrible about him? You're just against marriage altogether! Yes, he may have been a notorious playboy, but he's turning over a new leaf. He's settling down!" Franco argues. "Enough gossip, yo