Novel-novel oleh Omia

SAVANNAH’S POV The morning sun invaded the room, some of it spilling on my face. My hands grazed the bed and I realised there was no one there. He was gone. Did he really hate me that much? To want to leave before I even wake up. But why did I care? I never wanted to marry him anyway. I rolled out of bed lazily, navigating the room as I didn't get the chance to observe it properly the previous evening. I walked with a yawn towards the large window, yanking the curtain wide open. My lips cracked open with a smile because the view from up here was magnificent. I could see far into the bustling city and for a moment, I forgot my problems. While in thoughts, I heard a knock on the door and a lady rushed in, bowing. Her fingers squeezed her black on white uniform tight. “Good morning ma’am. I'm Tara the head housekeeper, and Mr Diego asked that I show you how things work around here,” she said calmly. I stared at Tara blankly for seconds. I wasn't used to being waited on. My morni

DIEGO'S POV I longed to make beautiful babies with this woman as quickly as possible. Babies with her eyes, her hair and her skin. I wanted us to spend the rest of our days together. I loved her. I had loved her since that day—the day at the masked party five years ago. I remember the first time my eyes fell on her; she stood at a corner confused and innocent. She was too charming for me to resist, even though I hadn't seen her face at first. We spent the night outside, away from the party, under the moonlight. She told me soothing stories. She made me feel the best version of myself. For the first time in my life, I could let go of my terrible past and focus on what was in front of me. I knew I wanted her near. I still have her mask—a white sparkling mask. She lost it while running back home. Since then, I vowed to find her and protect her. I waited for this day—a day to finally make her mine. And I have succeeded. The moment she stepped into the wedding hall, I could sens

SAVANNAH’S POV Babies? My life was literally slipping from my hands but his concern was making babies. I gulped hard because it felt like a threat only to look down to see his palm stretched proudly towards me. He led me to the car outside as guests tagged behind us. Congratulations flew past my head but I didn't care. My stepmother watched me closely from the stairs as a satisfied smile tugged at her lips—she had won. As we entered the car, I stared out the window, observing the crowd and saying goodbye to my old life. There was no going back now. We arrived at his mansion after a long drive. Stepping out of the car, my eyes widened in shock. A large beautiful building was in front of me, draped in hyacinths and had a water fountain in the middle. Three maids lined up to welcome us, their hands folded in front of them. “Welcome to your new home,” Diego's voice rang from behind me. My new home. I would have to adapt to a new life, a new name and that ridiculous pet name—little bu

SAVANNAH’S POV Married tomorrow? He walked away without looking back, leaving me to drown in thoughts. How can he be so casual about something that could ruin my life? I can't do this! Or maybe there is no need to resist. Maybe I should accept my fate and marry him. I couldn't run away. If I did, how will I get back everything my step mother has taken from me? I stood there as my mind pondered on every possibility. The cold air brushed on my sensitive skin and I shivered, wrapping my hands around my body. I walked, my feet broke through the grass as I found my way to my room. In a few minutes, I was right in front of my door. I pushed the weak door wide open as I collapsed on my old and worn-out bed, drifting off to sleep. The next morning, I was jolted out of sleep by a knock on my door. “Come in,” I said groggily, rubbing my eyes still heavy with sleep as I wondered what it was this time. The housekeeper rushed in with a box, beaming. “This just came in for you.” I stare

SAVANNAH’S POV “Don't leave this room until you're done!” My stepmother Vera McGrathy’s voice split through the air, her face red with fury and disgust. “When it's time to serve we’ll call you.” I stood in the dimly lit room, alone, clutching a mop stick with a bucket on another hand. My chest ached. I spontaneously wiped the hot tears gathered beneath my eyelids with my stained apron as cheers and laughter echoed from outside. How could they be celebrating my suffering? This is a nightmare I want to wake up from. Thirty minutes later, I was finished cleaning. My stepmother’s stilettos echoed in the hall, growing louder until she was right in front of me again. “Take this,” she snapped, flinging a dress at me. “Change into it. We can't have you looking like a maid in front of our guests.” I scoffed, clutching the mop stick even tighter. Of course, I was a maid—one they used however they pleased. Ever since my father died, My step mother and sister changed from the loving family