Vicky_dare 的作品

‎For five years, the Vance mansion felt less like an empire and more like an empty room nobody wanted to be in.‎Ethan Vance sat in his dimly lit office on the top floor of the Vance Group skyscraper, a glass of scotch resting untouched on the desk. He stared out at the city skyline and saw nothing. His face had forgotten how to feel anything. The grey strands of hair growing out was the visible sign of what was eating him alive.‎Five years ago the truth had shattered him. And the moment he found that crumpled pregnancy test in Rosalie's drawer he had torn the world apart in hope of making amends for his mistakes.‎He had spared no one. The morning after Rosalie vanished he stripped Eleanor of every card, every asset, every luxury tied to the Vance name and moved her to a modest apartment on the outskirts of the city, far from the circles she valued more than people. Chloe met a harsher fate. He exposed her scheme publicly, blacklisted her family from the business world and left her

The freezing downpour slammed against the glass doors of the hospital as Ethan stepped back inside, his coat heavy and drenched with rain. Water droplets trailed down his jawline but he didn't feel the chill. His chest felt tight, his heart still hammering with that same irrational panic that had gripped him the moment Rosalie walked away. His ego had told him she was playing a game, that she was waiting on the sidewalk for him to chase her. But the empty rain-slicked streets had proven him wrong. She had vanished into the dark without a trace, leaving his wealth, his name, and his life behind without a single glance.‎He walked down the sterile corridor, his steps muffled by the quiet of the late-night ward, heading back toward the intensive care unit. As he approached the semi-private recovery room where Chloe had been transferred, he noticed the door was cracked open. A sliver of warm light cut through the dim hallway.‎Ethan paused, his hand hovering near the handle as a low hush

‎‎Chapter 1: The Breaking Point‎‎The burn on her cheek was the only thing she could feel.‎‎"You absolute parasite!" Eleanor's voice shook with a venom that matched the force of the slap she had just delivered. She stood breathing heavily, her manicured fingers still trembling with rage. You ruined my son's life, you dragged our family name through the mud, and for what? To end up precisely where you belong in the gutter.‎‎Rosalie didn't move. She didn't press her hand to her cheek, nor did she look up to meet Eleanor's cold glare. Instead, she kept her eyes on the sterile hospital tiles, watching a stray drop of rainwater slowly dry against the porcelain.‎‎Eleanor's eyes narrowed when Rosalie said nothing. She stepped closer, as if silence was an insult she couldn't let go of. She paced the narrow corridor, the sharp, clicking of her designer heels echoing in the quiet hall. I knew from the moment you came to our home that you Were trouble. You think you can just walk away f