Lahat ng Kabanata ng She, His Enigma: Kabanata 121 - Kabanata 130

Ellaya knelt on the rain-slick ground, her trembling fingers splayed across the jagged edges of the gravestone. The icy night wind lashed at her exposed skin, turning her hands numb as the cold seeped through her drenched clothes. Strands of her hair stuck to her tear-streaked face, the relentless downpour soaking her completely. The weight of despair pressed heavily on her chest, tightening with every ragged breath. Her sobs came in sharp, uneven gasps as the venomous words of the man she had once given her heart to echoed in her mind, relentless as a cruel melody. *“I regret meeting you. I regret marrying you—even if it was only on paper, even if it was for revenge.”* The memory of his voice was a knife, twisting and tearing through her already shattered heart. She had believed in him, in the love she thought they shared. Every touch of his hands had felt like a symphony, every word a promise of a future together. She had abandoned everything for him—her career, her family, ev

**Trigger Warning** The chapters ahead contains depictions of attempted sexual violence, survival, and themes of trauma that may be distressing for some readers. Please prioritize your well-being and proceed with caution. If these themes are sensitive for you, consider skipping this chapter. _______________________________ With a crushed heart and shattered hope, Ellaya sank to the cold, damp floor, her hands obscuring her face as tears streamed through the cracks of her fingers. The muffled sobs echoed in the vast villa, heavy like the weight of betrayal pressing down on her chest. Around her, faces twisted into masks of indifference, some even smirking. Mr. Stone leaned casually against the arm of the chair, pushing the woman on his lap away lightly before rising, towering over Ellaya. Rosi, fists clenched at her sides, threw her arms up in frustration. "You were the one who supported her every whim! Look where it’s gotten her!" “Enough!” Mr. Stone's voice boomed through

"Please let me go…. Please, I am your daughter", Ellaya's plea rang in the room as her so-called father threw himself on the bed, clutching her hands tightly and attempting to kiss her. She kicked and scratched him on the face protecting herself. " Fuck. You bitch", he slapped her. Richard gripped her legs tightly. "Help… help .. mumma please help ..."she plead again and again. She retorted, "Fuck you bitch, you deserve it," She yelled as she sat on the couch and began polishing her nails as if watching a television drama. "You know what, Ellaya? Her soul was deeply wounded by her father's filthy remarks, "I always wanted to rip your clothes and make you feel good, baby girl." She wanted to hurl it in his face as her stomach roiled. For his own daughter, how could a father think this way? She shook her head, "No.. no.. please." Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she was crying and sweating but still fighting. The grip on her leg was cutting into her skin. "Now be a good g

The buzz of his phone dragged him from oblivion, sharp and insistent, like a wasp stinging him back to life. He groaned, clutching his pounding head, the taste of regret bitter on his tongue. The screen’s light seared his eyes, but he answered anyway—out of reflex more than intention. “Kai,” he croaked. His voice was shredded. “What is it?” “Where the hell are you, Iden?” Kai’s voice was raw, urgent. “I’ve been calling you all night. What the fuck is going on?” “What could possibly be so important,” Iden growled, voice jagged, “that I can’t have one night to myself?” Kai’s laugh was cold. Dead. “Your wife turned herself in this morning.” The words were simple. But they detonated inside him. He didn’t breathe. Didn’t blink. Just… broke. His hand tightened around the phone like it might hold him together. “What?” It came out strangled. The forest swayed around him, uncaring. Trees moved with the wind, indifferent to the fracture inside him. The ground shifted, unreliable und

The room was drowned in shadows, lit only by the moonlight filtering through half-parted drapes, dancing like ghosts across the cold wooden floor. The air was still, but heavy—cotton curtains swaying gently in the midnight draft spilling from the cracked window. It should have been a peaceful night. The moon looked soft, radiant—throwing its silver blessings onto the room like scattered pearls. But inside, a storm raged. Iden sat on the floor, back hunched against the edge of the bed, legs sprawled as if the strength had left his body entirely. His elbows rested on his knees, fingers tangled in his hair, tugging—desperate for any sensation that wasn't this gnawing emptiness. His head hung low, shoulders shaking with each labored breath. His eyes—once sharp, unshakable—were now dull and lifeless, buried beneath the weight of sleepless nights and unshed truths. He looked like a man hollowed out from the inside. Like something vital had been scooped from his chest and he hadn’t even