Daniella’s Point of View Unrequited love was supposed to be bittersweet, wasn’t it? But to me, it felt more like a curse. I didn’t blame Liam for not loving me back—love couldn’t be forced. Yet, I couldn’t shake the deep sting of betrayal and humiliation that had festered for weeks.That was why I decided not to go to the hotel. Instead, I went home, poured myself a glass of wine, and began deleting every memory of Liam and me, one by one. Truth be told, there weren’t many photos to begin with—most of them I’d taken in secret. Back then, I used to cherish them. Now, it felt liberating to hit "delete." Oddly, we didn’t even have a single picture together, just the two of us. My chest still ached, but with each erased image, I felt a little lighter.My love for him had failed—just like my mum always said. “Finding someone you love who loves you back is the biggest miracle of all,” she used to tell me. She wasn’t wrong. Love could fade, grow silent, or twist into something ugly, but it
“What’s your problem?” I demanded, though my voice trembled despite my effort to sound firm. Liam opened his mouth, and sure enough, words I didn’t want to hear spilled out. His tone—sharp, clipped, and detached—was the one I despised most. He frowned, his expression unreadable to most, but not to me. After all these years, I knew exactly what that look meant. It was the face of someone who didn’t understand why I was talking so much all of a sudden. Why I couldn’t just leave things as they were. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to hold back the curse hovering on my tongue. I didn’t want to look at him—at that perfectly handsome face that now mirrored the disapproval he felt toward me. Disapproval for daring to want more than he was willing to give. Liam Gravalle. Billionaire. Perfect background. Perfect career. A man who had never once been denied anything in his life. And me? I was just his assistant. A glorified working slave who fetched his coffee, scheduled his meetin
The sheer audacity of his calmness snapped something inside me. He didn’t even acknowledge what I’d just said. Didn’t deny my accusations. Didn’t argue. He just sat there, staring at me with that detached expression, as if I were the irrational one.No matter how angry I got, how much I screamed or cried or held back, I was nothing more than a puzzle for him to solve. A minor inconvenience in his otherwise perfect life.Liam Garvalle didn’t love me. He didn’t want to be with me. He didn’t have me in his future plans.But he wouldn’t even give me the courtesy of saying, “I wish you well.”Instead, he needed me to keep repeating myself, to keep begging for scraps of understanding, to keep twisting myself into knots trying to figure out his intentions.What was the point? Was this my life now? To spend the rest of my years hopelessly in love with a man who couldn’t even pretend to care? To live for the fleeting moments when he’d let me into his bed, only to discard me again?I stared at
Daniella's POVIt had been two days since Liam’s infuriating declaration: "You can move in if you must."The words reverberated in my mind, stoking the flames of anger each time I replayed them. It wasn’t just the dismissive tone, but the sheer audacity behind them. In that moment, a bitter realization had struck me like a slap in the face: Liam hadn’t rejected me all these years because he didn’t care about me; he had rejected me because he didn’t respect me.The revelation hurt in a way that was almost physical, as if it were a weight pressing against my chest, making it hard to breathe. I had spent years hoping—clinging to the idea that maybe he just didn’t know how to express his feelings, that beneath his cold demeanor, there was something worth salvaging. But no. Liam didn’t see me as an equal. He never had.In a fit of frustration, I had poured every last bottle of red wine in the house down the sink. Watching the dark liquid swirl away felt cathartic, as though I were flushing
Daniella’s POVLiam’s controlling nature is a beast of its own. He can’t stand the thought that anyone might leave him willingly. Maybe he doesn’t even realize it—it’s like some deep-rooted compulsion. He doesn’t know how to let go because he’s always been the one holding the reins. And now? Now he’s decided it’s “unfair” to me that Matilda can live in his house while I never have. As if that’s the issue. Suppose I do move in with him the way he wants. Let’s humor the idea for a second. It wouldn’t even take a month before Liam convinces himself he’s “made it up” to me. He’d pat himself on the back, thinking he’d done the honorable thing, and then he’d find some excuse to sweep me out again. I know this because I’ve loved him for ten years. I know everything about Liam. And Liam? He doesn’t love me enough to even try to know me. I took a shaky breath, my heart pounding in my chest, and forced myself to meet his gaze. “Let’s set aside the fact that your sister would never approve o
Liam's POVThe silence in my penthouse was deafening. The leather couch beneath me felt cold, and even the faint hum of the city outside the large glass windows couldn’t fill the void. I ran a hand through my hair, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. She left. Daniella Thornhill, the woman who had been my shadow for years, was gone. And why did it feel like I was the one who got dumped?It was absurd. I was Liam Garvalle. The man who called the shots controlled the boardrooms, and had women falling over themselves for a mere glance. Yet here I was, sitting alone in the aftermath of a departure I thought I wanted. My penthouse, with its modern design and carefully curated artwork, now felt like a museum—beautiful, but lifeless.I glanced at the desk in the corner, where Daniella had often sat, quietly going through files or planning my schedule. She had a way of blending in, making herself invisible unless I needed her. And yet, her absence now screamed louder than any argument we ever
I was reviewing some documents at my desk when my colleague Jason walked over, phone pressed to his chest. He leaned in close and whispered, “It’s Anna from Garvalle’s company…”I froze, my pen pausing mid-way. My mind raced. Why was Anna calling me here? I had made it very clear that I was done with Liam and everything associated with him. I had ignored her previous calls, but apparently, she’d found another way to reach me. Clever. Annoying, but clever.Jason gave me a puzzled look as I hesitated. Reluctantly, I took the phone from him, forcing a tight smile. “Anna,” I greeted coolly.“Miss Thornhill,” Anna’s voice came through, polite and almost apologetic. “I’m sorry for disturbing you at work, but I really need your help.”I leaned back in my chair, already annoyed. “What is it, Anna?”“Well… I wanted to ask a few things about Mr. Gravelle,” she began hesitantly. “First, where do you usually order food for him from? Besides the meals you cooked yourself, of course.”My lips twitc
Daniella's pov“Mr. Garvalle... I am calling Miss Thornhill,” I heard Anna’s trembling voice on the other end of the line.Even through the receiver, I could hear her anxiety—her words faltering, her breath hitching—poor girl. For a moment, I felt a flicker of pity for her—a fleeting pang of guilt that she was caught in the middle of something she didn’t fully understand. But that pity vanished the moment I heard Liam’s voice in the background. Low, sharp, and unmistakably annoyed.Liam. The name alone was enough to tighten the knot of frustration in my chest. He had a way of demanding the impossible, of dragging people into his whirlwind without considering the consequences. I’d been swept into it once, but I wasn’t about to let it happen again.I hung up the phone without hesitation, cutting off the conversation mid-sentence. There was no point in entertaining this circus.“Martin,” I called out sharply, summoning my paralegal. When he appeared in the doorway, I didn’t waste time.
The damp chill of the underground cell gnawed through Elizabeth’s thin, torn tunic, and the stench of mold and decay lingered in the air like a curse that refused to be lifted.Chains rattled faintly with her every movement, and little Habibah lay curled in her mother’s lap, her breath warm against Elizabeth’s bruised skin. Elizabeth’s fingers ran slowly through her daughter’s tangled curls, each strand a small comfort against the storm of fear in her chest. For a brief, aching moment, there was silence. Suddenly, the silence broke. The sound of heavy boots echoed down the corridor—slow, deliberate, merciless. Elizabeth stiffened, her hand tightening around Habibah. The child whimpered.A cruel laugh drifted through the air, low and mocking, bouncing off the cold walls like a specter.“No,” Elizabeth whispered, eyes lifting toward the cell bars. “Please, not again.”The shadows moved, shaped themselves into a familiar figure. A woman stepped into the dim torchlight, flanked by three
Elizabeth sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor, her back against the heavy, fortified wall of the secret chamber. “Will Papa really come back soon?” Habibah whispered for what felt like the tenth time, her voice barely a breath.Elizabeth gave a small, reassuring nod. “Your father said to stay put. He’ll come for us when it’s safe. We just have to trust him.”Habibah bit her lip, glancing nervously at the heavy steel door that kept them hidden from the chaos outside. The chamber had been built centuries ago as a refuge, and it was nearly impenetrable, soundproof, and sealed tight. Until—A sound broke the heavy silence — the soft, unmistakable creak of footsteps approaching.Elizabeth stiffened immediately. She pressed her hand gently to Habibah’s arm, signaling her to stay silent. Both of them leaned in, hearts pounding so hard it was almost deafening in their own ears.The door handle shifted, moving slightly.Habibah's breathing quickened, and Elizabeth gripped her hand tightl
Three years had passed since little Habibah was birthed and welcomed into the Emerald Pack. In those years, she had blossomed like a rare flower, her laughter ringing like bells across the pack grounds. The pack loved her fiercely — not only because she was the Alpha’s daughter, but because there was something radiant about her, she had a bright and untamed spirit with the gentleness of her mother, Elizabeth, and the fire of her father, Czar.Elizabeth, her mother, watched her every day with quiet awe. Sometimes, she would run her fingers through Habibah’s dark curls and wonder how such a miracle had come into their lives after all the pain they had endured.Czar, the Alpha, was no different. He had vowed since the day Habibah was conceived and born that he would protect her with everything he had—even if it cost him his life.But these were troubled times.The werewolf territories were embroiled in an endless war — pack against pack, hunters against wolves, betrayal seeping into once
Elizabeth basked in the glow of an expectant mother, she could not be more thankful for the peace, joy, and love that found her. She and Alpha Czar counted the days till the birth of their child, until word arrived that the Willow Creek Pack — an ally under Emerald's protection — had been attacked, the news shattered the pack's peace, especially that of Elizabeth. Alpha Czar knew his position and wasted no time. Without hesitation, he assembled his warriors; his vow to all allied packs must be fulfilled no matter the cost or consequences. "Under my watch," he had sworn, "no friend shall fall alone."Elizabeth, heavy with child and only weeks from her due date, had begged him to stay. But duty was a jealous, unyielding master. Alpha Czar kissed Elizabeth's forehead, lingering there a little longer than usual, his hand pressed over her swollen belly. His voice, low and steady as he made her a promise, “I’ll be back before you know it, my love. You and our little one — you’re my world
Czar's parents, welcomed Elizabeth with open arms. Their trust in their son's judgment was unwavering. “He’s never made a decision that endangered this pack,” he told the council once. “If he sees a Luna in her, then so do I.”The majority of the pack mirrored this sentiment, embracing Elizabeth as one of their own.However, not all shared this enthusiasm. A few elders from the high council murmured amongst themselves. They saw her lineage—or lack thereof—as a threat to tradition. A Luna should come from a bloodline of power, they argued. Not from nowhere.“We do not doubt your leadership, Alpha,” Elder Harran had said, rising to speak. “But a Luna must come from strength. Her background is unknown. How can we be certain she is the right choice?”Czar had risen slowly, his frame imposing, his voice calm but razor-edged."Have I ever led this pack into ruin?" he asked, locking eyes with each elder."No, Alpha," they replied in quiet unison."Have I not fought, bled, and sacrificed to k
The forest had always whispered ancient secrets, but Elizabeth had never expected to be part of one. She’d only wanted to explore some of the old trails beyond the marked boundaries. But somehow, she’d wandered too far, drawn in by the haunting beauty of the wild and the unearthly quiet. Trees loomed like sentinels, and the shadows stretched deeper than they should have. Before she knew it, a group of imposing men had surrounded her.They moved with eerie grace and frightening precision, their eyes glowing with something primal. She hadn’t even had time to scream before she was bound and blindfolded, the cold roughness of rope scraping her skin.When the blindfold was finally removed, she found herself in a cold stone cell deep within a prison under the Emerald Pack's stronghold.****************That was the first time Alpha Czar laid eyes on her.He was there for a routine inspection, flanked by two of his guards. His towering figure filled the hallway, his black coat whipping behin
ALMOST 30 YEARS AGO Many, many years ago, before the moon ever looked kindly on the Emerald Pack, before it bore the name that would inspire awe across the territories, it had another name — one spoken only in hushed tones by the old and the haunted. Once, it was a place of shadows and fear, ruled by a tyrant whose reign had withered every shred of hope from the hearts of its people. His name had long since been erased from the histories, not out of ignorance, but out of deliberate intent. The pack had chosen to forget.This alpha, cruel and insatiable in his thirst for power, ran the pack with an iron fist. He saw his members not as family, but as tools — to be used, to be discarded, to be punished. Families lived in fear, mothers whispered warnings to their children, and warriors bore scars not only from outside battles, but from within. The woods that now stood tall and proud were then filled with silent dread.But change, as it often does, came from the unlikeliest of places.He h
“We found her,” Dalton said, his voice low with a mixture of relief and disbelief.There was a brief moment of silence before Roy spoke again, his voice wavering slightly. “Are you serious? Where is she now?”“Safe. Daniella and Sophie are safe. They’re out of the danger zone, and Sophie’s being discharged in three days.” Dalton paused, a rush of emotions flooding his chest. “I’m having them stay with me for now. I don’t think Daniella’s ready to go back to her own place yet.”“Good. We’ll come right after she is discharged,” Roy responded.Dalton nodded, even though Roy couldn’t see him. “It is for the best, because the hospital does not want the place to be crowded, since the security is outside her ward, and it is already causing tension at the hospital.. Tell Grace I’ll be there to pick you both up. I’ll bring them home.”The call ended, and Dalton exhaled deeply. His hand lingered on the phone for a moment longer, as if trying to steady the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions sto
Dalton sat stiffly in the rigid hospital chair, his elbows perched on his knees, fingers laced tightly together. The room was dim except for the soft glow of the machines monitoring Daniella's vitals, their rhythmic beeping a painful reminder of her unconscious state. She looked pale under the harsh fluorescent light, fragile in a way that unsettled him deeply. He hadn't left her side except for a single coffee break and the occasional trip to the restroom, but even those short absences gnawed at him. He didn’t want her waking up alone—not now, not after everything.Hours had slipped by. Time moved differently in hospitals, suspended in a heavy fog of antiseptic air and sterile silence. His men had yet to report anything, and the longer the silence stretched, the more agitated he became. Sophie was still missing.Just as he reached for his phone to call his head of security, it buzzed in his hand. Relief surged in his chest when he saw the name."Tomas," he answered briskly, voice sha