Hello readers, How's Michael, hmm!? Hehehe
Michael's pov - I glance at my phone and notice the time. It's already past 10 at night, and I've missed a couple of calls from Abigail. I quickly type a message to reassure her that I'm fine and that I'll be home soon. As I step out of my cabin, I realize that the office is empty, with everyone having left for the day. As I make my way through the rows of intern desks, I'm taken aback by the sight before me. A soft, warm light emanates from a table lamp, casting a gentle glow on the figure of Ema, who is fast asleep with her head resting on the desk. I approach cautiously, trying not to disturb her slumber. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I glance at the computer screen in front of her. The document displayed on the screen is titled "Fragrance of Love." My heart skips a beat as I realize that this must be the copy of the book she was working on, the one named after the scent of Tuberose. Could it be that Ema is Tuberose? A mix of emotions swirls within me—surprise, disbelief,
Michael's pov - I step into the house, my mind a chaotic storm of conflicting emotions. Abigail awaits me in the living area, her eyes searching mine for answers. Ignoring her, I make my way toward the bedroom, the weight of frustration and confusion heavy on my shoulders. How do I confront her about what Ema said? Abigail's compassionate nature and countless selfless acts make it difficult for me to question her motives, but Ema's words continue to echo in my ears, stirring doubt within me. Inside the bedroom, I forcefully loosen my tie, grappling with the best approach to broach the subject. Abigail follows me, her voice filled with genuine concern. "Michael, is everything okay? You look exhausted," she asks, her worry palpable. Without turning to face her, I shoot the question that has been tormenting me, my eyes piercing and sharp. "Who is Tuberose?" The room grows tense, and I sense Abigail's unease in her trembling response. "Why are you asking this suddenly?" she replies, her
Ema's pov - As I hang up the call with Michael, a shiver runs down my spine. The conversation with him had left me unsettled, torn between loyalty to my best friend Abigail, and the love I hold for Michael. William's presence behind me offers a temporary respite, his arms snuggling around my neck. I close my eyes, seeking solace in his embrace. His voice breaks the silence, filled with a chilling edge. "I am impressed," he murmurs, his words dripping with sinister intent. I instinctively pull away slightly, feeling the weight of his darkness grow heavier. "Thank you. Without your guidance, I wouldn't have gathered enough courage to do anything," I responded, my voice tinged with a mix of gratitude and apprehension. A wicked chuckle escapes William's lips as he asks about his desires. His words send a cold shiver down my spine, knowing all too well the depths of his resentment towards Michael. "I want to snatch Michael's love from him," he confesses, his eyes burning with a malicious
Michael's pov - I sit in my office cabin, the weight of the previous night's events still heavy on my mind. Jack, my trusted friend, and confidant, stands before me, his face etched with confusion and concern. I had shared everything with him, hoping for some clarity amidst the chaos that had consumed my world. But as I recount the words I had uttered to Abigail, the disappointment in Jack's eyes is evident. "How could you say those things to Abigail, Michael?" Jack's voice holds a hint of reproach, his brows furrowing in disapproval. "Regardless of what happened, you shouldn't have spoken to her in such a manner." Frustration wells up within me, mingling with the remnants of anger that still linger. I struggle to comprehend how Jack cannot see the situation from my perspective, and how he fails to recognize the betrayal that I feel. "Jack, I understand your concern, but you weren't there," I explained, my voice laced with urgency. "Abigail's words... they cut deep. I couldn't help
Michael's pov - I sit in my cabin, lost in thought about the incident from last night. Ema, the talented writer of Fragrance of Love, had revealed in the morning that she is Tuberose. It was surprising, considering that Abigail had claimed to be Tuberose the previous night. The conflicting claims had puzzled me, but before I could delve deeper into the matter, my phone rang, interrupting my thoughts. It's my dad calling. "Where is Abigail? She didn't come for breakfast," my dad's voice rushes through the phone. "I checked in your room, and she's not there. Not even in the guest room or anywhere. The guard informed me that she left last night. It was a rainy night, Mick. Where is your wife?" Startled by my father's rapid stream of questions, I try to calm him down. "Don't worry, she's probably fine. Maybe she just wanted some time alone after our fight. It's nothing to be overly concerned about." "Just shut up! Is this how I raised you? How could you let your wife leave the house at
Michael's pov Once inside, I lay Abigail gently on the couch, her weakened state evident in her pale complexion. I cover her with a warm blanket, tucking it around her body, hoping to provide some relief from her fever. My mind races as I remember where the family doctor keeps his emergency contact information. I quickly retrieve the details and dial his number. The doctor assures me that he will arrive at our home as soon as possible. I thank him and end the call, my attention immediately returning to Abigail. I sit by her side, holding her hand, and murmuring words of reassurance. Minutes later, the sound of the doorbell echoes through the house, signaling the arrival of the doctor. I quickly let him in, and he wastes no time in examining Abigail, checking her temperature, and prescribing necessary medications. His calm demeanor and expertise bring a sense of relief to my worried heart. As the doctor tends to Abigail's needs, I find myself pacing the room, unable to sit still. I'
Michael's pov - As I arrive at the office, I find myself unable to concentrate on my work. Abigail's words haunt me, her pain and disappointment etched into my memory. I realize that I can't let our relationship crumble like this. I made a promise to protect her, to love her unconditionally. And now, I have to find a way to make things right. The rain continues to pour outside, mirroring the turmoil within my heart. I realize that I can't let pride or ego stand in the way of what truly matters. I need to swallow my pride, apologize, and fight for our relationship. With a renewed determination, I leave the office early, my mind set on one goal: to reach Abigail and make things right. The rain-soaked streets feel like a metaphor for the challenges ahead, but I'm ready to face them head-on. As I approach our home, I can't shake off the sense of trepidation that lingers within me. I don't know how Abigail will receive me, whether she'll be willing to listen or shut me out completely. B
Jenelia's pov - "Hello, Will. I am back in New York. I need to meet you. I want you at home within one hour," I say firmly into the phone, my voice carrying a sense of urgency. Ending the call, I take a moment to collect myself. It's time to face the challenges that lie ahead. Opening the drawer of my study table, I'm greeted by a photograph of David from his younger days. The memories flood back, reminding me of the love that stole my peace and left me restless. But it was all one-sided. David never cared about my feelings. That doesn't matter anymore. I made the choice to marry his business rival, Mr. Stark, and now our sons are destined to be rivals as well. I raised William with the intention of turning Michael into not just a rival but an enemy. As I gaze at David's picture, emotions swirl within me. I close the drawer, locking away the memories of our tumultuous past. The present demands my attention. Our recent defeat weighs heavily on my mind, and I must uncover the reasons
Author's POV -[9 months later]As Abigail awakens, she finds herself in a rather wet and unexpected predicament. Without a moment's hesitation, she unleashes a resounding yell, "Miiiiiiiiiccccccccckkkkkkkkkk..."In a remarkable display of Olympic-level sprinting, Michael, wrapped in nothing but a hastily grabbed towel, races out of the washroom, his face an exquisite blend of confusion and concern. "Baby, what happened?"Abigail points to her soggier-than-a-sponge state. "Look at my state, damn it. My water's broken! Take me to the hospital!"Michael, in the middle of trying to don a pair of trousers and an inside-out t-shirt, pauses for a moment, contemplating the situation. "Just a moment, let me wear something."But his fashion crisis is swiftly dismissed as Abigail, with a hint of a smile, quips, "You wore the t-shirt's wrong side.""Leave it. You and the baby are more important." He hastily adjusts his pants and tugs the t-shirt to its rightful orientation. Scooping up Abigail in
***mature content*** Abigail's POV - I am flying in the ninth sky. My every ride and his grip on my hip. I fail to hold for more and cum again. I fail to stay on my knees but his grabs make me get into the missionary position and he is still inside me. He starts thrusting without any warning. I pull him closer. His strong biceps are my pillar now. His joystick is quite large for me to take. Still, it's a pleasure I wanted all the time. There is no manipulation or conspiracy. Only our love and us. He leaves my grip and gets on his knees. Our sweated bodies, heaving chests, and louder exhales are the witness of our pleasure. He brings his dick out and grins at me. "Let's take a 5 minute break. You are so exhausted. I don't want this night to end faster with our tiredness but to keep it alive till dawn or maybe later." He starts kissing me all over my body. I doubt he is leaving an inch to travel his brim against my skin. He again holds my legs and gets on his knees. "It's time for an
Michael's POV -I break the kiss and pull her closer. I make her sit on my thighs and take the ice cream. "Do you know? There is a unique way to have ice cream." I want to start what I wanted for a long time slowly."What is that way, Sir?" She has a shy smile on her lips.I put a little bit of ice cream on her chin and lick it gently. She quivers into my arms. "Mick.""It's my turn. You said that you would let me do everything I wanted after our wedding. So, it's the time. Isn't it?" My husky voice and her ear lobe. Just a perfect combination. I am sucking her ear lobe and she is releasing a slow moan."Did I say no?" I grin at her reply."I want to put you into the swimming pool and get inside you but that might be later. It's not going to be two or three rounds. Maybe the whole night." I am on her neck now. My grip is around her so tight that I will not allow her to move if I don't want to."Anywhere or anything. I am okay with everything." Our love is now at the peak of lust.I lif
Abigail's POV -Our wedding day, and it holds an even more special significance this time—it's our 3rd anniversary. Mick chose this very day for our re-wedding, and we've been eagerly anticipating it for weeks. Today, I have a unique wedding gift for my husband—a manuscript of my new book, 'Fragrance of Love 2'. I know it will light up his face with joy, and that's precisely what I want to see.As I hold the bound manuscript in my hands, I hear his voice calling for me, and a smile tugs at my lips. "What is my wife up to on our wedding day?" he asks, his eyes dancing with excitement. "I can't wait to recite our vows again. I wish we could have a grand celebration, but I respect your wish."He pouts playfully, and I can't resist the urge to pull his cheek gently. "Mr. Husband, I want this day to be special in its simplicity, just for us." I say, putting a quick peck on his lips."But after the wedding, Abby, there's something I've been patiently waiting for, and you've been using this '
Michael's POV -The morning sun barely peeks through the curtains as I awaken, wrapped in the warmth of Abigail's embrace. Last night was nothing short of magic, the kind that leaves you in awe of the universe, feeling blessed and alive. Her peaceful slumber beside me is like a painting, serene and beautiful. I gently brush a stray strand of hair from her face and plant a soft kiss on her forehead."Good morning, my love," I whisper, my voice a gentle murmur in the quiet room. She stirs, her eyes fluttering open, and a smile graced her lips."Good morning, hubby," she replies, her voice a sweet melody that warms my heart. She stretches her body, her bare back exposed, and I can't help but admire the graceful curve of her spine. But as I lean in to kiss her, she covers her chest with her hands, her cheeks flushing a delightful shade of pink.I can't contain my laughter. "Are you serious, wifey? I held you undressed all night, and now you're covering yourself?" I playfully tease as I tuc
Abigail's POV -"Why did your husband try to put my wife behind bars? How could I stay passive?" William's voice clashes with mine, both of us brimming with anger."Now you can understand, can't you? Your wife attempted to murder his wife. Wouldn't he seek justice? I let that go, so you shouldn't attempt to harm my husband," I retort, my eyes blazing with fury."What is happening here?" Ema, that cheating friend of mine, suddenly appears out of nowhere."Your husband tried to harm my husband. I swear, Ema, if you don't keep your husband under control, you might end up a widow, and no one can stop me," I seethe, my words dripping with resentment and disdain."Mind your tongue, Abi," she snaps, but I cut her off, a storm of emotions fueling my rage. "Abigail Pattinson. Address me by Abigail. You've lost the right to call me Abi. Besides, I would love to slap you harder, but if I did, it would be considered animal abuse, and I don't want to stoop to that level," I declare, my gun still po
Abigail's POV -Days flow steadily, like a calm river winding its way through life's landscapes. I sit at my desk, penning down words that weave stories of love and heartache. Fragrance of Love, my most successful novel to date, brought the intoxicating aroma of success into my life. Now, I'm immersed in crafting its sequel, Fragrance of Love Season 2, hoping to give the love it couldn't find in the first part—a story mirroring my own life's journey, finding its path to happiness.These past two years have been transformative. The catering business Chole and I started, now known as 'A&C,' has flourished under Chloe's capable leadership. Despite Michael's proposal for a business collaboration between our companies, I was adamant about maintaining our individuality. Our love might be on the mend, but our businesses remained separate entities.In this time, I've managed to complete seven books, each a piece of my heart poured onto the pages. Fragrance of Love holds a special place, its su
Abigail's POV -Two weeks have passed since that dramatic day in the heart of New York City when I gave Michael one last chance. It's been a whirlwind of emotions, but the most important thing is that he's recovering well. I've been dividing my time between the hospital and home, and even though he's eager to come home, I've insisted on staying by his side at the hospital.Honestly, I can't help but be a bit possessive. I don't like the idea of nurses fussing over him, even if it's for his own good. And, to my relief, it seems that Mick has noticed too.Today, I'm driving to the hospital from home. As I enter his room, I see one of the nurses talking animatedly with Mick, both of them sharing a friendly smile. My heart gives an involuntary pang, and a touch of jealousy creeps in. I can't help it; I just want all his attention for myself.Summoning my bravado, I stride over to them, trying to mask my irritation with a polite smile. "Excuse me," I say sweetly to the nurse. "Could you giv
Michael's POV -Pain pulses through my body as we speed through the city streets, my thoughts consumed by one burning question: where is Abby? I've tried calling her countless times, my desperation growing with each unanswered ring. It's as if she's vanished into thin air, leaving me with a deep sense of emptiness.In my desperation, I dial my father's number. "Dad," I say urgently, "I need you to call Abby and keep the line open for at least 30 seconds. We can trace her location that way."The seconds feel like hours as I wait for my father's call back. Every passing moment is a torment, and I can't bear the thought of Abby slipping further away from me.Finally, my father's name flashes on my screen, and I answer with bated breath. "Dad, did you—"But his words cut me off. "She hung up, Mick," he says with a heavy sigh. "And she sent a message, saying she'll talk to you when she returns to California."My heart sinks as I hear those words. I wanted to see her, to hold her, to beg for