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Helplessness
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2025-01-01 22:56:11SERENA
“You’re a piece of work,” he said, almost to himself. I snorted softly, shaking my head as I packed up my equipment. “Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment.” I bet that would be the most appreciation he would have ever given. Heartless guy. He didn’t respond, and I took that as my cue to leave. But as I turned toward the door, his voice stopped me. “Why did you agree to this? To us?” The question caught me off guard, and I hesitated, my hand on the doorframe. Was he genuinely asking this question, or was this one of his attempts to mock me? “Why does it matter?” I asked, my voice quieter now. “It matters,” he said, and there was something in his tone—something I couldn’t quite place. I turned to face him, meeting his gaze once more. And he looked really genuine, making my heart skip a beat. Does he really care? “Maybe because I had no other choice. Or maybe because I wanted to prove to myself that I could survive this too.” His eyes narrowed slightly, as though he were trying to read between the lines of my answer. “You’re not what I expected,” he said finally, his voice low and thoughtful. A flicker of curiosity sparked inside me. What did he expect? A simpering damsel? A submissive servant? The urge to ask burned on my tongue, but I swallowed it down. This wasn’t the time to delve into his expectations—or mine, for that matter. “Good,” I replied with a faint smirk. “I’d hate to be predictable.” And with that, I walked out of the room, leaving him and his questions to himself. He is a mixture of a tyrant, heartless, ruthless guy—but now I think he may be a bit kind too. For a moment, he shows me his ruthless side, barking orders without a care in the world, and then there he is, asking about my helplessness. Helplessness. Has he ever felt that? Probably not. He was raised with all the luxuries in the world, with a ton load of money. He wouldn't know what it feels like to be abandoned, to be treated as nothing by your own family. I sighed. Does he even care if I said I have been forced into this? Apparently not. The only reason he is letting me stay here is because I can cure his legs. Just a cure to his legs. Yes, Serena, don't think too much about his almost non-existent kindness. I have had my lesson, and I will never trust someone again and feel that abandonment. What if I cured his legs and he too abandoned me? Will he? Well, I guess so. I don’t want to think about that heartless guy anymore. I just want to sleep peacefully in my comfy bed now. Oh, my bed. It has been one hell of a day. --- Morning arrived all too quickly, pulling me out of a restless sleep. At precisely 6 a.m., my body, ever obedient to routine, forced me awake. I stretched, wincing at the dull ache from yesterday’s endless tasks. The herbs I had set to soak were still brittle—a reminder that patience was an unkind teacher. With nothing else to do, I wandered into the kitchen, my stomach already growling. To my surprise, the aroma of freshly prepared food greeted me. The cooks, bustling about, barely spared me a glance. “Can I… eat this?” I asked hesitantly, my voice cutting through their quiet chatter. They exchanged uncertain looks, as if deciding whether I was worthy of such a privilege, until one finally stepped forward. “Of course, ma’am,” he said, his tone neutral. “Thank you,” I mumbled, grabbing two sandwiches, filling a bowl of fruits, and taking a glass of milk. I didn’t care if they found me rude; hunger trumped politeness. --- By the time I reached the school gates, I was already late. The cab had taken forever to arrive, and I couldn’t help but blame him. Why does he have to build his mansion in the middle of nowhere? Was isolation part of his charm, or just another display of wealth? I sighed, adjusting my bag as I hurried to class. It was going to be another long day. --- I returned home, and I have never felt this level of guilt or happiness before, but yeah—it was at least useful, so it’s all been worth it. “Why the fuck do you need that?” A sharp voice yelled at me the moment I stepped into the mansion—a voice I knew all too well. The mansion was drop-dead silent, and the air was thick with tension. I swallowed hard, trying to push away the fear that crept into me at the sight of him. What have I done to anger him now? With labored breathing and a pounding heart, I looked at the only man who could have this level of intimidating effect. My dear employer—or husband, if you prefer.Related chapters
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Serena.I looked at him, fear flashing in my eyes. Adrian sat in his wheelchair, positioned between the two massive couches like a king on a throne. Tim stood beside him, his head low, shoulders tense. Did he do something?I didn’t have long to wonder. Adrian repeated his question, this time his voice dangerously low, sharp enough to cut through the air.“Why do you need that?”God! Help me.“W-what?” I managed to stammer.He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he tossed an iPad onto the table with a sharp thud. The sound made me flinch. What if it broke? Does he have any value for things? He doesn't even value humans, Serena.An icy glare from him brought me back to reality. I tiptoed closer to the table, cautiously picking up the device. The tension in the room was suffocating. What had gotten under his skin this time? Disrespecting was his second nature, but what had I done to provoke it?I glanced at the lit screen, and my eyes widened. My breath caught in my throat. Does he have
Last Updated : 2025-01-02The Cure Is you Is she the same
°ADRIAN °Today, my legs felt strange—sore and tingling where the needles had pierced. Was that normal? I would ask her. I was already out when it struck me. She’d probably be at college by now.Whatever. I’d grab some food instead.I called for my attendant, who helped me down the stairs. Each step was a brutal reminder of how much I hated this—being dependent, being weak. I hope these sessions work soon. This wasn’t a life I intended to endure much longer. I have many unfinished businesses out there.By the afternoon, I was knee-deep in estate work with Timothy when the door swung open without warning.By an Uninvited. Unwanted. And the person I despised most in this fucking world—my half-brother, Victor Royce.“Stop,” I said sharply, my tone cold and biting.“Relax, Adrian,” Victor said, smirking, already testing my patience.“Leave,” I ordered, my voice low and measured, barely containing the disdain beneath it.Victor chuckled, throwing himself onto the couch as if he owned the
Last Updated : 2025-01-03The Cure Is you Emotions.
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°SERENA° “But don’t treat everyone as if they’re beneath you. We’re humans, Adrian. We have emotions too.” I don’t even know why I am saying this; he won’t understand anyway. All he ever does is what he wants. I stumbled to my bed, hugging myself, as his words cut through me again and again. It hurts. It really hurts to know he thought I was like that—someone so vile, so opportunistic. For a split second yesterday, I thought maybe, just maybe, he had a heart too. But today, he proved me utterly wrong. And with his cold dismissal, he buried the fragile hope that had dared to sprout, that had threatened to appear. I should be used to this by now—the accusations, the judgment, the way his eyes harden every time he looks at me. But no amount of time or repetition makes it easier. If anything, it carves deeper, each word and action leaving a scar I can’t quite hide. I thought, even though he doesn’t care about me, at least he respects and understands me. That he sees I am not as des
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°SERENA°It’s been three weeks, and as promised, Adrian hasn’t questioned my methods. Well, apart from his occasional jabs—like calling me “half-dead” or “little gold digger”—everything else felt... normal. Maybe even good.If life could just stay this way—steady and uncomplicated—things might actually turn out okay. Three more years to finish my degree, and I’ll finally become the doctor I’ve always dreamed of being, ready to help those in need.But even as I try to focus on the future, there’s a question gnawing at the back of my mind. One I’ve been avoiding because I’m terrified of the answer.Adrian has started to move his fingers, and every now and then, even his legs show a flicker of motion. It’s incredible, really. He’s been working so hard, pouring his strength into the exercises, along with continuous simulations, and taking the herbal medicine. If things continue like this, it won’t be long until he’s walking again.And while that thought fills me with joy—it really does—th
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°SERENA° It’s been three weeks, and as promised, Adrian hasn’t questioned my methods. Well, apart from his occasional jabs—like calling me “half-dead” or “little gold digger”—everything else felt... normal. Maybe even good. If life could just stay this way—steady and uncomplicated—things might actually turn out okay. Three more years to finish my degree, and I’ll finally become the doctor I’ve always dreamed of being, ready to help those in need. But even as I try to focus on the future, there’s a question gnawing at the back of my mind. One I’ve been avoiding because I’m terrified of the answer. Adrian has started moving his fingers, and now and then, even his legs twitch with effort. It’s incredible to witness. He’s been working so hard, pouring his strength into the exercises, along with continuous simulations, and taking the herbal medicine. If things continue like this, it won’t be long until he’s walking again. And while that thought fills me with joy—it really does—there’s
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°ADRIAN° Everything is going unusually well, almost too well, which gives me an odd sense of unease. Life can’t possibly be this good. That little gold digger has been behaving herself—doing her job without complaint and even keeping her sharp tongue in check. Perhaps it’s because I’ve started to respect her, and I treat her accordingly. After digging into her past, I discovered something unexpected: she wasn’t the bride Evelyn had chosen for me. She’s the bride’s younger sister. That explains why she’s so…different from what I expected. And I think Evelyn is still unaware of that fact. She wasn’t raised in the usual privileged bubble. Instead, she grew up with her grandmother, a herbal medicine healer. She wasn’t lying about that, and I’ve verified it myself. I’m not naive enough to trust anyone who claims they can heal my legs, but I can’t ignore the progress. It’s been three weeks, and I can now move my fingers with ease. Even my legs respond with effort—small movements, but
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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 ru
Last Updated : 2024-12-10
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The Cure Is you Something wrong
°ADRIAN° Everything is going unusually well, almost too well, which gives me an odd sense of unease. Life can’t possibly be this good. That little gold digger has been behaving herself—doing her job without complaint and even keeping her sharp tongue in check. Perhaps it’s because I’ve started to respect her, and I treat her accordingly. After digging into her past, I discovered something unexpected: she wasn’t the bride Evelyn had chosen for me. She’s the bride’s younger sister. That explains why she’s so…different from what I expected. And I think Evelyn is still unaware of that fact. She wasn’t raised in the usual privileged bubble. Instead, she grew up with her grandmother, a herbal medicine healer. She wasn’t lying about that, and I’ve verified it myself. I’m not naive enough to trust anyone who claims they can heal my legs, but I can’t ignore the progress. It’s been three weeks, and I can now move my fingers with ease. Even my legs respond with effort—small movements, but
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°SERENA°It’s been three weeks, and as promised, Adrian hasn’t questioned my methods. Well, apart from his occasional jabs—like calling me “half-dead” or “little gold digger”—everything else felt... normal. Maybe even good.If life could just stay this way—steady and uncomplicated—things might actually turn out okay. Three more years to finish my degree, and I’ll finally become the doctor I’ve always dreamed of being, ready to help those in need.But even as I try to focus on the future, there’s a question gnawing at the back of my mind. One I’ve been avoiding because I’m terrified of the answer.Adrian has started to move his fingers, and every now and then, even his legs show a flicker of motion. It’s incredible, really. He’s been working so hard, pouring his strength into the exercises, along with continuous simulations, and taking the herbal medicine. If things continue like this, it won’t be long until he’s walking again.And while that thought fills me with joy—it really does—th
The Cure Is you A peace offering.
°SERENA° “But don’t treat everyone as if they’re beneath you. We’re humans, Adrian. We have emotions too.” I don’t even know why I am saying this; he won’t understand anyway. All he ever does is what he wants. I stumbled to my bed, hugging myself, as his words cut through me again and again. It hurts. It really hurts to know he thought I was like that—someone so vile, so opportunistic. For a split second yesterday, I thought maybe, just maybe, he had a heart too. But today, he proved me utterly wrong. And with his cold dismissal, he buried the fragile hope that had dared to sprout, that had threatened to appear. I should be used to this by now—the accusations, the judgment, the way his eyes harden every time he looks at me. But no amount of time or repetition makes it easier. If anything, it carves deeper, each word and action leaving a scar I can’t quite hide. I thought, even though he doesn’t care about me, at least he respects and understands me. That he sees I am not as des
The Cure Is you Emotions.
°ADRIAN° “Yes, sir. The card was last swiped at a hospital.” The moment the words left his mouth, a million questions struck my mind. That's not what I expected. A hospital? Why would she be at a hospital? Questions churned in my head, relentless and unforgiving. Had she paid someone’s bill? Was it out of necessity? Charity? A calculated move to appear noble? Or was this a ploy, another angle I couldn’t yet see? Was she truly that selfless? The word didn’t sit well. It clashed with the Serena I had constructed in my mind—the little gold digger who married me for money and power. Opportunistic. Manipulative. A woman who knew exactly what she was doing at all times. And yet, here she was, standing in front of me, arms crossed. Her posture was defensive, but not combative. I caught the faint trace of tears clinging to her cheeks, her nose tinged pink from crying. She looked... Cute. Damn it, Adrian. Stop. It doesn’t matter. “Fine. Go,” I said, waving her off dismissively, t
The Cure Is you Is she the same
°ADRIAN °Today, my legs felt strange—sore and tingling where the needles had pierced. Was that normal? I would ask her. I was already out when it struck me. She’d probably be at college by now.Whatever. I’d grab some food instead.I called for my attendant, who helped me down the stairs. Each step was a brutal reminder of how much I hated this—being dependent, being weak. I hope these sessions work soon. This wasn’t a life I intended to endure much longer. I have many unfinished businesses out there.By the afternoon, I was knee-deep in estate work with Timothy when the door swung open without warning.By an Uninvited. Unwanted. And the person I despised most in this fucking world—my half-brother, Victor Royce.“Stop,” I said sharply, my tone cold and biting.“Relax, Adrian,” Victor said, smirking, already testing my patience.“Leave,” I ordered, my voice low and measured, barely containing the disdain beneath it.Victor chuckled, throwing himself onto the couch as if he owned the
The Cure Is you Not a slave.
Serena.I looked at him, fear flashing in my eyes. Adrian sat in his wheelchair, positioned between the two massive couches like a king on a throne. Tim stood beside him, his head low, shoulders tense. Did he do something?I didn’t have long to wonder. Adrian repeated his question, this time his voice dangerously low, sharp enough to cut through the air.“Why do you need that?”God! Help me.“W-what?” I managed to stammer.He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he tossed an iPad onto the table with a sharp thud. The sound made me flinch. What if it broke? Does he have any value for things? He doesn't even value humans, Serena.An icy glare from him brought me back to reality. I tiptoed closer to the table, cautiously picking up the device. The tension in the room was suffocating. What had gotten under his skin this time? Disrespecting was his second nature, but what had I done to provoke it?I glanced at the lit screen, and my eyes widened. My breath caught in my throat. Does he have
The Cure Is you Helplessness
SERENA “You’re a piece of work,” he said, almost to himself. I snorted softly, shaking my head as I packed up my equipment. “Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment.” I bet that would be the most appreciation he would have ever given. Heartless guy. He didn’t respond, and I took that as my cue to leave. But as I turned toward the door, his voice stopped me. “Why did you agree to this? To us?” The question caught me off guard, and I hesitated, my hand on the doorframe. Was he genuinely asking this question, or was this one of his attempts to mock me? “Why does it matter?” I asked, my voice quieter now. “It matters,” he said, and there was something in his tone—something I couldn’t quite place. I turned to face him, meeting his gaze once more. And he looked really genuine, making my heart skip a beat. Does he really care? “Maybe because I had no other choice. Or maybe because I wanted to prove to myself that I could survive this too.” His eyes narrowed slightly, as t
The Cure Is you Got my attention.
ADRIAN "Why didn’t you respond to my text?" I asked, gripping her wrist firmly.She stopped in her tracks, her eyes narrowing at the hold I had on her. I felt the tension in her slender wrist, though she didn’t pull away. Not yet."And why were you prying on me?" she shot back, her voice sharp, unapologetic."I asked first," I said evenly, my grip unwavering. Her defiance was beginning to irritate me, though I couldn’t deny it intrigued me too.She tilted her head, her dark eyes scanning my face like she was trying to solve a puzzle. "I was angry that you pried at me," she finally admitted, her voice softer but still edged with defiance.Was that the truth? I couldn’t tell. But I let it slide—for now."And you?" she pressed, her gaze locking with mine, refusing to let the conversation die."Just making sure you were alive," I replied dryly, releasing her wrist.The moment I let go, she stepped back, creating space between us. But her eyes remained locked on mine, throwing daggers now
