Adrian Royce, once a commanding force in the business world, now hides in the shadows of his fears and a wheelchair. Cynical and broken, he’s forced into a marriage with Serena Cooper, a fiery young woman whose dreams are as big as the struggles she’s endured. A healer at heart, with her grandmother’s ancient remedies and an indomitable spirit, Serena has known heartbreak and betrayal—but never defeat. From their first meeting, sparks fly—not of passion, but of sharp words and clashing wills. “You think I want your money?” Serena snaps when Adrian accuses her of being a gold digger. “No, Mr. Royce. I want a college seat.” Reluctantly, Adrian lets her into his life, and Serena’s presence becomes more than just physical healing. Her selflessness and quiet resilience begin to chip away at his icy walls. Despite himself, Adrian starts waiting for her each evening, sharing meals he once ate in solitude, his heart unknowingly opening to her warmth. As their contract of necessity shifts into something deeper, Serena finds herself captivated by Adrian’s rare smiles and the vulnerability he hides behind his sharp tongue. Serena, who vowed never to trust again, feels her walls crumble under the weight of Adrian’s gaze. His touch sends shivers down her spine, his presence a constant reminder that she isn’t alone. And yet, she fears the same pain that has haunted her past. But as emotions rise, so do the challenges—old flames, family betrayals, and scars from their pasts. Can Serena overcome her fear of losing someone she loves again? Will Adrian be brave enough to fight for her? The Cure Is You, is a heart-stirring tale of resilience, betrayal, and the healing power of love that will leave you breathless until the very last page.
Lihat lebih banyak°SERENA°
I waited and waited, even fate laughing at me, my supposed groom still didn't arrive. "Now, a final call to Mr. Adrian Royce to come forth," the priest announced. Silence. No one stepped forward. I stood there, head bowed, a bouquet trembling in my hands. Scanning the sea of unfamiliar faces, my eyes landed on my father. His cold, icy gaze met mine, devoid of even the slightest concern for his daughter—who had just been stood up at the altar. The murmurs of the crowd grew louder until someone approached the priest, whispering something in his ear. The priest nodded, then held out a ring to me. "With the power vested in me," he declared, his voice carrying a tinge of pity, "I now pronounce Adrian Royce and Serena Cooper husband and wife." And just like that, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing alone in a veil of humiliation. Guests began to disperse, their eyes casting fleeting glances of pity—or judgment. I spotted my father preparing to leave and rushed to his side, desperation clawing at me. "Where are you going? Take me with you. What am I supposed to do here?" I pleaded, clutching his arm. He shook me off like I was nothing. "You're of no use to me anymore. Wait here until the Royces come to collect you," he said, his voice colder than the marble floor beneath my feet. Tears blurred my vision, streaming down my face in silent agony. I know he didn’t love me, but it tore me apart to realize he hated me this much—for what happened years ago. "Stop crying, or you'll look like Annabelle when your crippled husband sees you," my sister, Anna sneered as she passed by. "Who knows, even he might kick you out." Her taunt stung, sharp as a blade. This entire drama was because of her, yet she stood there without a shred of remorse. She shoved me aside and walked away, leaving me crumpled on the floor. And there, under the weight of abandonment and betrayal, I wept quietly. It was at that moment that the girl who once craved love finally died within me. A Day Before “It hasn’t even been a week since Grandma’s death, and you want me to marry some stranger?” I protested, my voice shaking with disbelief. “Correction,” Anna sneered, “he’s not a stranger. He’s the first son of the Royce family.” “If you know so much about him to sing his praises, why don’t you marry him—” Before I could finish, a sharp slap landed across my cheek, sending me crashing to the floor. I looked up, stunned, to see my father towering over me, his eyes filled with pure disgust. “The marriage proposal was for your sister,” he growled. “Thank your stars you’re taking her place and marrying into the Royce family.” He said that as if I have to kneel and thank her for giving me this opportunity or more like a death sentence. “I would have married him, Serena,” Anna interjected, inspecting her long red nails. “But he’s a cripple—better suited for a country girl like you.” “Get her ready tomorrow,” my father ordered coldly. “No need to ask for her opinion.” “But I—” “If you say one more word,” he interrupted, his voice icy, “you’ll never see your grandmother’s grave again.” My breath caught. Grandma—the only person who had ever loved me unconditionally—was now being used to threaten me. I couldn’t lose her too. I nodded silently, my spirit breaking as I agreed to the arrangement. The next morning, the house was bustling with activity as gifts and jewelry from the Royce family poured in. Anna snatched up the wedding gown as soon as it arrived and barged into my room. “Now, like the perfect sister I am, I’ll help you get ready,” she said, smiling ear to ear. “No, thanks,” I muttered, retreating to the changing room. When I stepped out, she was still there, her eyes glinting with malice. I turned to the mirror. The gown, clearly not my size, hung awkwardly, its heavy embroidery scratching at my skin. The straps slipped from my shoulders no matter how often I adjusted them. “Don’t bother,” Anna scoffed. “No one cares how you look anyway.” I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to lash out. Did she not realize I was doing this for her? This whole nightmare was because of her greed. A knock at the door broke the tension. “Come in,” Anna called before I could respond. Two women in their mid-thirties entered, armed with makeup kits. “That’s the bride,” Anna said dismissively. “Get her ready. We’re short on time.” She left without another word. The women went to work on my face without asking my permission. When they were done, I barely recognized myself. Heavy eyeliner rimmed my eyes, making me look haggard. My lips were painted an aggressive red that clashed with everything else. Together, it made me look years older—and utterly unlike myself. At Present “Are you Miss Cooper?” a man in a suit asked as I sat on the marble floor, my bouquet discarded beside me. I couldn’t summon the strength to speak. My throat felt constricted, my voice lost somewhere between despair and exhaustion. I nodded weakly, avoiding his gaze. “The madam of the Royce family sent me to fetch you,” he said, his tone devoid of warmth. So now they remembered me—their new daughter-in-law. A pity they hadn’t remembered before leaving me humiliated at the altar. Without a choice, I staggered to my feet, clutching the folds of the heavy gown to keep from tripping. My legs wobbled as I followed him to the sleek black car waiting outside. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of the gown and my situation pressing down on me. The car rolled up to a grand villa, its towering gates opening with an air of command. The structure itself was breathtaking—ornate columns, sprawling gardens, and a fountain so grand it seemed like something out of a dream. It was then I understood why Anna said she would have married him, if not for his physical state. But no beauty could mask the dread curling in my stomach. This wasn’t a home—it was a gilded cage. The driver opened the door for me, and I stepped onto the stone pathway leading to the villa’s entrance. The gown caught on the uneven ground, and I stumbled slightly, steadying myself before anyone could notice. As I crossed the threshold, the atmosphere changed instantly. The warmth of the outside world evaporated, replaced by the cold, sterile air of wealth and formality. Chandeliers glittered above me, their crystals refracting the light in dazzling patterns. Yet everything felt oppressive, as though the walls themselves were watching. I barely had a moment to take it all in when a deep, menacing voice boomed through the grand hall. The words struck me like a physical blow, freezing me in place. My heart raced as the voice reverberated through the room, each syllable heavy with authority and disdain. “Who let you in?”°ADRIAN° “Serena!” Her body crumpled to the ground like a lifeless doll, a soft thud that shattered the world around me. Panic tore through me — raw, blinding. Was she shot? Was she— “Fuck!” I dropped to my knees, gravel biting into my palms as I scooped her limp form into my arms. Her skin was cold, too cold, her head lolling helplessly against me. I patted her cheeks, desperate, frantic. “Serena. Serena—” No response. Not even a twitch. Blood roared in my ears, drowning everything else. "Fred!" I twisted around, searching— There. Staggering toward me, blood soaking the cloth wrapped around his hand. “What the fuck happened to you?” I barked, clutching Serena tighter. He pressed a shaking hand to his side, blood slick between his fingers. A breathless, humorless laugh escaped him. “Your little wife,” he rasped. My heart lurched. I turned — Cassandra. Lying there. Still. Lifeless. A fresh wave of horror slammed into me. She saved us. She didn't deserve this. I
°SERENA° I was pushed aside suddenly, my body jerked violently into some kind of wall… The sound of the gunshot still rang in my ears, sharp and disorienting. My vision blurred for a second. My body throbbed where I’d hit the wall — my shoulder scraped raw against the stone. Voices were shouting, echoing, overlapping — but I couldn’t make out any of it. My hands scrambled against the floor to push myself up. Dust clung to my fingers. My heart was slamming against my ribs. And then I saw her. Cassandra. She stood just a few feet away — or was she swaying? Her hands were pressed to her abdomen, but blood was already seeping fast through her fingers, thick and dark, running down her arms, staining the hem of her top. Her breathing was ragged. No. No, no. “What the hell—” I whispered, barely able to move. She had stepped between us and Victor. She’d taken the bullet. “Cassandra!” “Cassandra!” Fred and I shouted at the same time. The panic in his voice mirrored min
°SERENA° “SERENA!” Cassandra’s scream rang through the cold stone halls, but before I could answer, rough fingers latched onto my arm—tight, urgent. I knew from the grip, from the sheer force, that it was a man. Instinct took over. I clenched the small knife she’d slipped into my hand earlier, spun, and slashed hard. My blade met flesh, and a choked gasp followed. Warm blood sprayed across my skin. A vein. I’d aimed for it. This would weaken Victor. It had to. We needed just enough time— “Ah… Serena!” That voice. My heart skipped and I turned sharply, breath caught in my throat. “Fred?” I gasped. His eyes were wide with pain, his hand clutched tight, blood flowing between his fingers like a river he couldn’t stop. My stomach dropped. Shit. What have I done? “Shit! Why did you grab me?” I was at his side before I finished speaking, panic clawing at my throat. He winced, and I didn’t wait—I tore a strip from my shirt, the fabric protesting with each tug. My f
°SERENA° Victor didn’t respond to my insult. Not with words. Just his eyes—sharp as shattered ice, cold as steel, burning with fury. He stared at me like I was the last stain on his empire, and he was ready to scrub me off the face of the world. But only if staring could kill. “I’ll let you think about obedience,” he muttered, snatching up his phone. “Maybe the next time I walk through that door, you’ll have learned your place.” He turned. Walked. The door creaked—slow, deliberate. Then slammed. The sound ripped through the room like a gunshot. And then, silence. Not peace. Never peace. But a tense, eerie quiet clung to the air like smoke after a blaze—thick, choking, haunted. Still, for the first time since I was dragged into this nightmare, I wasn’t afraid of the silence. I welcomed it. I exhaled—slow, shaky. My lungs trembled like they were just relearning how to breathe, my chest sore as if someone had punched the life out of me and left behind an ache n
°SERENA° I woke up with a sharp jolt, my head dizzy and heavy, as if it had been struck by a hammer. My eyes fluttered open, but the world spun in a blur. Where am I? Last I remembered, I was with Tim. We were supposed to go to Nina’s house. I could still feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, the laughter in the air as we joked about old memories... But now? Now, I was here. I blinked, trying to adjust to the dim light filtering through cracked windows. The room smelled musty, like damp wood and stale air. My fingers tingled from the tightness of the ropes around my wrists, and my legs were bound just as tightly to the legs of the chair. The cold wood beneath me seemed to seep through my clothes, making my skin crawl. How did I end up here? Why am I here? Panic started to claw at my chest as I tugged at the ropes, the rough fibers scraping against my skin. My heart hammered in my chest, every beat a reminder that I was trapped. I tried to recall how I got to this hellish p
°ADRIAN° "Yes. And it begins with—" My phone rang. A shrill, stabbing sound that cut through the room like a blade. I stopped mid-sentence, breath caught mid-chest. Fuck. Annoyed, I pulled it from my pocket—half-ready to snap at whoever dared to— Then the world dropped out from under me. Victor’s face filled the screen. Smiling. No—grinning, smug and twisted, like he’d won a game I didn’t even know we were still playing. His eyes sparkled with something feral, something unholy. Then the camera tilted. My heart turned to stone. Serena. Tied to a chair. Hair clinging to her face, her lips cracked, trembling. A bruise darkened one cheek—deep, fresh. Like someone had slammed their palm across her face. "Adrian..." she whispered. And I couldn’t breathe. Air wouldn’t come. My lungs were locked in ice. He hit her? HE FUCKING HIT HER? My hands clenched around the phone, trembling with barely controlled violence. I could feel the heat rise up my neck, my chest—
°EVELYN° Adrian Royce. The Royce heir stood before me—just as he had five years ago—unflinching, unreadable, and devastatingly composed. But he wasn’t the same boy I once pitied. No. That shattered boy with a broken spine was long gone. In his place stood a man carved from silence and sharpened by betrayal. And in his eyes, I saw every secret I thought I had buried claw its way back to the surface. Was this the reckoning I had feared? The collapse of everything I had built with blood, deception, and a twisted kind of love? He didn’t speak. Just walked in with the quiet arrogance of someone who owned the air I breathed—like he knew exactly what it cost me to stand tall. Behind him, that bastard friend of his carried the file—that file—the one that should’ve remained ash and dust. Five years of silence, and still, Adrian found a way to exhume the corpses I buried with trembling hands. I shouldn’t have arranged his marriage. Not to Serena. It was Anna who was meant for
°ADRIAN° The door closed with a soft thud. Almost fragile. But it echoed like a gunshot in my skull. She left. And once again, what should’ve felt like a home felt like a mausoleum. Just blocks of bricks and the ghosts of her laughter echoing through the silence. My fingers curled into fists at my sides. I hadn’t moved from where I stood—hadn’t dared. My chest felt hollow, like something had been ripped out of me. A vacuum. A space where love used to live. I let her go. No—worse. I asked her to leave. I told her it was for the best. That I was a mess. But the truth is… I didn’t know what else to do. And now the air reeked of her absence. Her scent still clung to the couch where she curled up with her books. Her favorite sweater still hung off the chair, half-folded. And the food she cooked... it sat on the table. Untouched. Growing cold. She hadn’t eaten. And I pushed her out anyway. Where would she go? To her father? The man who poisoned her. The sa
°SERENA° "Adrian, please… just look at me." But he doesn’t. His eyes stay locked on the floor like it’s safer there—like if he dares to meet mine, he’ll fall apart. His posture rigid, fists clenched, his chest rising and falling with staggered breaths. He looks calm from a distance, but I know him better than that. I can feel the war inside him. "I'm not my father," I whisper, barely audible. "You know that, don't you?" A hollow, bitter laugh slips from his lips. It cuts deeper than silence. Like it was pulled from a place inside him that’s long been bleeding. "I don't know anything anymore, Serena." "You know me." My voice trembles. "You listened to me when no one else did. You saw parts of me I never showed anyone. Did you forget all that?" His head lifts slowly, like it takes everything in him to meet my gaze. His eyes are bloodshot, swollen with grief, and when they finally meet mine—something inside me breaks. It feels like glass shattering in my chest. "I don’t wa
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