All Chapters of A Knight for Victory: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

"How are you feeling?" Arthur asked gently as the dark grey BMW silently sped into the city. He pulled Victory's slender hands into his and gave them a light squeeze, giving her his assurance that things will get better. She tore her gaze away from both their hands which were entwined on Arthur's lap and looked up to observe the damage that Aaron had imposed on his face. His gentle tone was in contradiction to how dreadful his face looks. His left cheek was already swollen in an angry shade of red. Combined with his busted lips and messy hair, within the dark confines of the car, he appeared more sinister and yet still manage to look dangerously attractive. Unconsciously, she pulled up one of her hands away from Arthur's hold and palmed it on his swollen cheek. Her thumb caressed his skin in slow gentle strokes. Arthur hissed as her hand touched the raw and swollen area of his cheek. "Does it hurt?" She asked gently, her emeral

Saturday rolled in quickly and before she knew it, Victory was already packing her bags and getting ready to leave the apartment. Arthur had suggested that it would be better for them to check in at the hotel for the weekend, thus eliminating the need to drive back to the apartment after the party. In fact, Arthur had booked rooms for all their family members at the Plaza Hotel's executive floor. Well, technically Victory had to do all the bookings since she is still Arthur's personal assistant. She insisted to Arthur that things should not change, despite the fact that she is going to be Mrs. Victory Knight in less than a month's time. In fact, she refused to think of the upcoming nuptials at all, leaving all the planning to both her mother and future mother-in-law. It terrified her to know that very soon she'll be sharing a life with Arthur.  Once her bags were ready, Arthur had picked them up and handed them over to Gerald, who placed the

After his heart-felt speech, Aaron tried to amble to where Victory and Arthur were seated, a champagne flute held precariously in his right hand. His usually immaculate dark hair is in disarray, his face flushed and his blue eyes unfocused and wild. Alcohol clouding his judgment, he stumbled as he tried to walk. His knees buckled, causing him to sway and fall unceremoniously on the floor, making a loud thumping noise as his body came into contact with the carpeted floor. This was followed by a clinking sound. The champagne flute rolling carelessly on the floor and away from his sprawled body, spilling all of its contents in its wake. Grunting, he tried to push himself off the floor. The ballroom fell eerily into silence. You could literally hear a pin drop in the large room. All eyes were now staring at Aaron in trepidation. Five minutes later, he had to be carried out of the ballroom by security because he was fighting drunkenly with one of t

Victory groggily woke up to the sound of machines beeping loudly next to her. She tentatively opened her eyes and they were instantly flooded by bright lights, causing her to squint. Slowly her eyes adjusted to the brightness and her blurred vision came into focus. Where am I? She asked herself. Her green eyes roamed slowly across the small room that she was in, trying to note of her surroundings. White concrete walls, bright flourescent lights and sterile linoleum floors greeted her eyes.  I'm in a hospital room, she realised. She looked up to her left at the machine that was beeping next to the hospital bed where she lie, it's high-pitched sound reverberating in the small room. Her eyes moved down and followed one of the transparent intravenous line that were connected to a drip next to the machine, leading to the back of her wrist. It was then that she noticed a familiar mop of dark hair resting on the right hand side of the bed next t

My wedding day had felt like the worst day of my life.  And most probably it is. It was the day when I decided to leave everything behind, my fiancé, my family, my best friend and the cushy lifestyle that I had. Literally everything that is Victory Sinclair. It is said that most brides would experience some semblance of cold feet right before their wedding.  For me, the deathly cold feeling seeped through my bones and oozed through every fibre of my being the day I found out that I had miscarried. Oh, the irony. It was an unplanned pregnancy and with the least likely person in the world. The pregnancy forced us to declare our ill-fated association with each other. Then, we were demanded to host a very public engagement party, creating the illusion that a romantic bond have been formed between us.  A bond did exist between the two of us, tying us together in the most mysterious way, a bond that was cr