All Chapters of Sunshine and The Beast: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

MatthiasThere were times when I had to go to the hospital. It wasn’t like this was my first time being hospitalized for more than a day. I have had my rough days since I was a kid.I remember those visits all too well. I wasn’t a stranger to pain, to the sterile smell of antiseptic and the bright, cold lights of emergency rooms. As a kid, I was constantly getting hurt—scrapes from falling off my bike, cuts from climbing trees, sprains from running too fast. Each time, my body would bear the marks of my recklessness, but it wasn’t just the physical wounds that left scars. It was the absence of anyone by my side.There was never anyone to sit with me in those hospital rooms. My father was too busy with his business. That was always his excuse. Always on calls, always in meetings, always away. He didn’t have time for the little things—like showing up when his son needed him most. I learned early on to rely on myself, to toughen up. The doctors and nurses would come and go, but I’d be le

Althea "How close are you and that Kennedy boy?"No hi, no hello, no good morning, no how are you, no let’s eat—not even a grunt of acknowledgement before he threw the question at me out of nowhere, mentioning someone I didn’t expect as part of our first morning conversation.Not that I expected anything different from Matthias. If he ever did greet me properly, I’d be more inclined to believe I was still dreaming, that I had accidentally overdosed on my medication, or that Matthias had been abducted and replaced by an alien struggling to impersonate him.But that didn’t mean I was used to hearing him drop random, out-of-nowhere questions while I was still in that disoriented space between sleep and wakefulness. My brain was still sluggish, my limbs heavy, and my awareness fragmented into every corner of this room–or anywhere, I didn’t know.I blinked, trying to process his words through the lingering fog in my head. Kennedy boy? Who the hell was he talking about?Did he mean Tristan

AltheaAnother day, another meeting to attend.I used to think being a boss or holding a high-ranking position was an easy job. Not easy because the work was enjoyable, but because there would always be someone else doing the boss’s work. Isn’t that why so many people want to be leaders?Unfortunately, reality wasn’t as beautiful as I had imagined. The position I currently held barely allowed me to relax or sit back and do nothing. There were always calls and emails to respond to. There was always news—sometimes beneficial, sometimes shocking because of how "innovative" it was (that was sarcasm, in case you didn’t get it). And peace felt like a rare luxury when money was something I had to deal with every single day.“You’re getting better at meetings, ma’am,” Rebecca told me. “This time, they asked fewer questions than in the last meeting.”Following the success of The Art Palette, I knew Erbeauty had to keep moving forward and coming up with new ideas. That’s why I was working on th

AltheaHis kiss was rushed, messy, yet hot at the same time. My breath hitched. The kiss was urgent, heated, like he was trying to make a statement without words. His hands remained on the desk, caging me in, but he wasn’t pulling me closer—not yet. As if he was waiting for something. A reaction. A rejection.But I couldn’t move.My fingers tightened against the desk’s surface, the cool wood pressing into my skin as my mind scrambled to catch up with what was happening. Matthias—cold, brooding, unreadable Matthias—was kissing me. His lips were firm yet seeking, like he was testing a boundary neither of us fully understood. Heat coiled deep in my stomach, spreading through my limbs like wildfire, but my thoughts remained a tangled mess.This shouldn’t be happening.Every logical part of me screamed at the sheer absurdity of it. He was frustrating, impossible, and so infuriatingly distant most of the time. But none of that mattered at this moment. The only thing I could focus on was th

AltheaHave you ever wondered what the right feeling should be in a specific situation? Should you feel relief, sadness, or something in between? Should you even feel anything at all?That was the uncertainty that consumed me now. Hearing Marcus’s story some time ago brought a slight sense of relief and pride. My mother was a great woman. She was kind, caring, and well-liked. She had everything it took to be a good mother—at least in my opinion.She could have been. She should have been. But in the end, I was still left with no one. And that was where the mixed emotions began to settle in, twisting inside me like an unshakable weight.The more I thought about it, the more questions piled up in my mind, growing heavier with each passing moment. Marcus spoke so highly of my mother, yet there was an unspoken tragedy lingering behind his words. It was like there was a missing piece—something that didn’t fit into the beautiful image he had painted of her. What exactly happened? What led he