do u like the chapter? comment your thoughts. this story will get better, and you'll understand it so soon. anyway, it's Mavi Ivanov's story, Rosette's older brother , the father of Phiel, and his real name is Maximus. hope that clears up the confusion. tnx for reading as always:)
I was back to square one. My husband appeared to be keeping something from me, and I couldn't shake that feeling.When I inquired if he was worried, he didn't respond. Instead, he abruptly left the room, seemingly ignoring my question completely. I felt bewildered and offended. Is he truly my husband? Why isn't he behaving like one?Following that incident, he didn't visit or contact me to check on my well-being. I felt disappointed.But then again, it couldn't be helped.Days passed, and the absence of my husband weighed on me. The unanswered questions and the growing void in our interactions left me grappling with a sense of isolation. I yearned for some connection, for reassurance, but he remained elusive."He hasn't visited or even checked on me. Is this how a husband should act?" I questioned, my voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and sadness.Emma, always composed, offered a reassuring smile. "People cope with difficult situations in different ways, Miss Ophelia. Perhaps
“Ma’am, your husband has already left,” Emma said, her tone cautious as she addressed me. These days, I wasn't in the best of moods, not because of any lingering sickness, but due to the nagging feeling that something was being kept from me. “He has left for work, and he’ll probably be back a week from now or so.” I nodded silently, then took a sip of the tea she had prepared for me. The revelation that my husband had left bothered me, but I chose not to show it. Why should I care or worry? After all, he didn’t even come to bid farewell himself, so why should I react as if I were genuinely disappointed. “Tell me, Emma,” I uttered, my tone seeking answers. “What were we like as a married couple before I lost my memories?” Caught off guard, Emma hesitated, her usually composed demeanor faltering for a moment. I closed my eyes briefly, taking a deep breath to steady myself before opening them again to face her. “I-I really didn’t know much, ma’am," she admitted, her words coming out
I've already made up my mind. I'll leave this place. I don't think there was a reason to stay. They were all lying to me, blatantly telling me lies that were obvious. They were deceiving me.Staying became increasingly challenging, especially since my husband, the supposed anchor for my presence here, was consistently absent. Despite their claims of my marriage, their inability to provide any evidence, not even a picture from my own wedding, added to my growing sense of disillusionment.I hung around for a while, hopeful that they'd eventually come clean. Unfortunately, that never happened – not even a bit.It became disheartening and hard to trust anyone.Disappointment settled in, directed at every individual under this roof.Leaving now feels not just necessary but also freeing. Staying doesn't do anything for me anymore. The lies have unraveled, showing a truth that lines up with what I've been feeling.I waited until everyone in the mansion was sound asleep before putting my esca
Emma left the room to give us some space and privacy. I clenched my fist as the tension between us thicken. I didn’t expect him to be back all of a sudden. Perhaps, it is a good thing as well."I don't want to stay here anymore," I declared with a steely gaze, my determination to leave this house firm in my mind. The sense of betrayal had eroded my trust in everyone around me, leaving me with a deep-seated desire to escape. "I will leave this house," I added, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions within.His eyes sharpened, and the tension in the room heightened as he gritted his teeth. My heart raced, but I maintained a composed exterior, unwilling to let him perceive any vulnerability. "Leave, you say? Ophelia, this is our house," he retorted after a brief pause, his voice laced with controlled intensity as if he were suppressing an inner turmoil. "You cannot leave."“Why not?” I hissed, my gaze narrowing into slits as I gritted my teeth. “Why can’t I leave?”“Because I don’
Emma left the room to give us some space and privacy. I clenched my fist as the tension between us thicken. I didn’t expect him to be back all of a sudden. Perhaps, it is a good thing as well."I don't want to stay here anymore," I declared with a steely gaze, my determination to leave this house firm in my mind. The sense of betrayal had eroded my trust in everyone around me, leaving me with a deep-seated desire to escape. "I will leave this house," I added, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions within.His eyes sharpened, and the tension in the room heightened as he gritted his teeth. My heart raced, but I maintained a composed exterior, unwilling to let him perceive any vulnerability. "Leave, you say? Ophelia, this is our house," he retorted after a brief pause, his voice laced with controlled intensity as if he were suppressing an inner turmoil. "You cannot leave."“Why not?” I hissed, my gaze narrowing into slits as I gritted my teeth. “Why can’t I leave?”“Because I don’
She didn't know how she ended up with a place like that. She was only trying to find food. Her stomach was hurting so bad from hunger. Someone offered her food but she didn't realise it was only a trap to capture her. Now, she was lined up together with the girls that had also been abducted like her.They were being cleaned, starting from their heads and to their toes. The people who abducted them made sure they were clean and good enough before they ushered them towards the dressing room. They put some makeup on their faces before they dress them up with some tiny clothes, barely covering their bodies.It was cold and made Margarette shiver, though she paid no mind to it. The moment they were pushed through a platform, her attention was no longer focused on the discomfort she had. Instead, her focus was disrupted by the cries of the girls she was with. They have been crying since they were in the cell, shaking in fear and distress. She was supposed to feel the same way like them, bu
She was taken into the mansion of Ivanov where armed men scattered around the seemingly palace of her owner. She wasn't given any clothes to get warmed nor was she given any privacy when she was pulled out of the car. His people, though, never dare to spare a glance at the stranger in their house. They knew better than to anger their leader.Her owner pushed her against an old, petite woman. "Bring her to one of the guest rooms and clean her up. I want her in the dining room at eleven. Understood?""Yes, sir," said the middle-age woman who nodded her head politely to the young boss.Margarette watched as he walked away upstairs. His back was so lean and ripped against his tux. She gulped. There was no doubt he was a wealthy man."Let's go, ma'am," the said woman. She nodded her head and let the woman take her to one of the rooms. She was ushered towards the bathroom and was bathed before being dressed into an oversized shirt and a loose short. It was comfortable enough for her not to
It has been 5 days since the auction. Margarette rarely sees Xavier around the house for the next couple of days. People dressed in black scattered all over the mansion. They were stoic, like a robot, and didn't talk to her. Though, she was allowed to go to the garden and has a personal maid following after her, tending her needs.She was really lucky. Not only was she given a delicious meal every day, but she also had to live a happy and privileged life. Being bought by him was a blessing in disguise. Margarette was so grateful to her owner.But then, she knew little about him yet. He was so rich, he had so many men, maids, and a huge house. But she barely sees him around. Margarette began questioning her role in this house.Wasn't she bought for a purpose?She has yet to know it, though."Ma'am, the boss wants to see you," her personal maid, Clarise, said. Margarette's heart began to beat quickly. She stood up almost immediately and followed Clarise nervously. Clarise knocked on Xa
Emma left the room to give us some space and privacy. I clenched my fist as the tension between us thicken. I didn’t expect him to be back all of a sudden. Perhaps, it is a good thing as well."I don't want to stay here anymore," I declared with a steely gaze, my determination to leave this house firm in my mind. The sense of betrayal had eroded my trust in everyone around me, leaving me with a deep-seated desire to escape. "I will leave this house," I added, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions within.His eyes sharpened, and the tension in the room heightened as he gritted his teeth. My heart raced, but I maintained a composed exterior, unwilling to let him perceive any vulnerability. "Leave, you say? Ophelia, this is our house," he retorted after a brief pause, his voice laced with controlled intensity as if he were suppressing an inner turmoil. "You cannot leave."“Why not?” I hissed, my gaze narrowing into slits as I gritted my teeth. “Why can’t I leave?”“Because I don’
Emma left the room to give us some space and privacy. I clenched my fist as the tension between us thicken. I didn’t expect him to be back all of a sudden. Perhaps, it is a good thing as well."I don't want to stay here anymore," I declared with a steely gaze, my determination to leave this house firm in my mind. The sense of betrayal had eroded my trust in everyone around me, leaving me with a deep-seated desire to escape. "I will leave this house," I added, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions within.His eyes sharpened, and the tension in the room heightened as he gritted his teeth. My heart raced, but I maintained a composed exterior, unwilling to let him perceive any vulnerability. "Leave, you say? Ophelia, this is our house," he retorted after a brief pause, his voice laced with controlled intensity as if he were suppressing an inner turmoil. "You cannot leave."“Why not?” I hissed, my gaze narrowing into slits as I gritted my teeth. “Why can’t I leave?”“Because I don’
I've already made up my mind. I'll leave this place. I don't think there was a reason to stay. They were all lying to me, blatantly telling me lies that were obvious. They were deceiving me.Staying became increasingly challenging, especially since my husband, the supposed anchor for my presence here, was consistently absent. Despite their claims of my marriage, their inability to provide any evidence, not even a picture from my own wedding, added to my growing sense of disillusionment.I hung around for a while, hopeful that they'd eventually come clean. Unfortunately, that never happened – not even a bit.It became disheartening and hard to trust anyone.Disappointment settled in, directed at every individual under this roof.Leaving now feels not just necessary but also freeing. Staying doesn't do anything for me anymore. The lies have unraveled, showing a truth that lines up with what I've been feeling.I waited until everyone in the mansion was sound asleep before putting my esca
“Ma’am, your husband has already left,” Emma said, her tone cautious as she addressed me. These days, I wasn't in the best of moods, not because of any lingering sickness, but due to the nagging feeling that something was being kept from me. “He has left for work, and he’ll probably be back a week from now or so.” I nodded silently, then took a sip of the tea she had prepared for me. The revelation that my husband had left bothered me, but I chose not to show it. Why should I care or worry? After all, he didn’t even come to bid farewell himself, so why should I react as if I were genuinely disappointed. “Tell me, Emma,” I uttered, my tone seeking answers. “What were we like as a married couple before I lost my memories?” Caught off guard, Emma hesitated, her usually composed demeanor faltering for a moment. I closed my eyes briefly, taking a deep breath to steady myself before opening them again to face her. “I-I really didn’t know much, ma’am," she admitted, her words coming out
I was back to square one. My husband appeared to be keeping something from me, and I couldn't shake that feeling.When I inquired if he was worried, he didn't respond. Instead, he abruptly left the room, seemingly ignoring my question completely. I felt bewildered and offended. Is he truly my husband? Why isn't he behaving like one?Following that incident, he didn't visit or contact me to check on my well-being. I felt disappointed.But then again, it couldn't be helped.Days passed, and the absence of my husband weighed on me. The unanswered questions and the growing void in our interactions left me grappling with a sense of isolation. I yearned for some connection, for reassurance, but he remained elusive."He hasn't visited or even checked on me. Is this how a husband should act?" I questioned, my voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and sadness.Emma, always composed, offered a reassuring smile. "People cope with difficult situations in different ways, Miss Ophelia. Perhaps
I took a deep breath as I followed him into his office. The man, who claimed to be my husband, seated himself at the desk with casual ease. I stood there, feeling like a fool, waiting for his next command. His expression soured when he saw me hesitating. "What are you doing?" he demanded, his jaws clenching in annoyance. I blinked, my mind still trying to process the overwhelming information he had just laid upon me. I was shocked and utterly disoriented, unable to pull myself together and act with a rational mind. I felt like a leaf, caught in the unpredictable currents of this surreal situation. "What?" he snapped. "Come here." I slowly and reluctantly walked over to his side, my thoughts still swirling with the revelations. When I was close enough, my husband extended his arms towards me. I hesitated, glancing at his outstretched arm. "I won't hurt you, okay? So come here now," he said, annoyance evident in his voice. Biting my lower lip, cheeks burning with embarrassment, I g
Staring into his stunning blue eyes, which revealed no emotion, I couldn't help but notice his tall, masculine figure—undeniably handsome and attractive. Despite his physical perfection, I hesitated to accept him as my husband. In my dreams, the man who claimed that role held me with warmth and tenderness, his gaze filled with affection. The contrast between those dreams and the current reality was stark.The man in front of me felt distant, his demeanor cold and uninviting. An invisible barrier seemed to separate us, making it hard for me to connect the dream figure with the person standing before me. The discrepancy between the dream's warmth and the real-world chill heightened my confusion and left me questioning the authenticity of this man's claim to be my husband.I must have stood there like an idiot for what felt like an eternity. My gaze was fixed on him, my lips parting and closing like a gaping fish. Describing my state as surprised would be a severe understatement—I was ut
It felt as though the world had turned upside down, my head throbbing painfully as I attempted to recall the events that transpired during my time in a coma. The last tangible memory I could grasp was being in... a dark room.And beyond that point, my recollections became an impenetrable fog, leaving me grappling with the disorienting void that stretched between the past and my current state of consciousness.I gazed at the coffee cradled in my hands, its warmth and the sweet aroma wafting up, stirring a nostalgic feeling within me. Yet, my mind struggled to unravel the threads of memory, unable to pinpoint when or where I had last experienced this sensation. Was this scenario familiar, or was it a moment my consciousness had yet to encounter?“It’s time for your medicine now, ma’am,” Emma said as she handed me the pills that I have been taking for a month. Yes, it has been a month, and up until now I was still pondering what really happened, who am I, and where the hell I am. The onl
I jolted awake, gasping for breath, my eyes fluttering open to the harsh reality of my bedroom. Sweat trickled down from my forehead, soaking through the sheets as I grappled with the remnants of a haunting dream—a nightmare that lingered in my waking mind. As I lay there, heart racing and senses on high alert, I couldn't shake off the lingering unease that the dream left in its wake. The echo of a distant scream, the shadows that danced malevolently in the corners of my mind—everything felt vivid and disconcerting. I took a deep breath, attempting to shake off the remnants of the nightmare. Yet, the tendrils of fear still clung stubbornly, leaving me with an unsettling awareness that the boundary between dreams and reality was thinner than I had ever imagined. "Good morning," a voice suddenly exclaimed, prompting me to turn my gaze towards its source. There stood a woman in her mid-twenties, adorned in what appeared to be a maid's uniform. A tray laden with breakfast delicacies res