Novel-novel oleh Ainin_ain

Night fell over London, accompanied by a light rain that washed against the crystal panes of the Vance Global headquarters. On the top floor, in the very office where my father once built his dreams, I stood watching the city lights flicker below. Adrian’s accounts were frozen, his access to classified data severed, and his influence over the board was trembling like a house of cards in the wind. But I knew this wouldn't be the end of it. Adrian was a snake; he would crawl through any gutter to reclaim his throne. The heavy double doors groaned open. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was. The scent of sandalwood, expensive tobacco, and that suffocating aura of dominance belonged to only one man. Alistair Blackwood strode in. He had discarded his blazer, leaving only a black shirt that strained against his powerful frame. He walked straight to the private bar in the corner, pouring two glasses of whiskey in silence. "You won the first battle today, Elara," his voice was l

Vance Global’s headquarters—now officially under the iron-clad oversight of Blackwood Enterprises—felt like a frozen battlefield. The click of my stiletto heels echoed sharply against the granite floors of the main lobby. The staff who once knew me as Elaine Vance, the "missing" heiress, watched me with hushed, fearful whispers. They saw a "ghost" walking with her chin held high, clad in a steel-grey couture power suit that hugged my curves perfectly. Alistair had intentionally chosen not to arrive with me this morning. "Let the little wolves think you are alone," he had whispered at the breakfast table while fastening his cufflinks. "Show them that even without me by your side, you are the storm." I strode into the main boardroom without knocking. Inside, Adrian stood by the massive window, while Sienna sat in the chair that once belonged to my father, nonchalantly polishing her nails. She acted as if she didn't have a single care in the world. "Get out of that chair, Miss Montg

The crystal glass in Adrian’s hand trembled violently before it finally slipped, shattering into a thousand jagged shards against the marble floor. The sound was like a death knell piercing the stifling silence of The Savoy’s ballroom. Beside him, Sienna Montgomery dug her sharp red nails into Adrian’s sleeve, her face turning a ghostly pallor as if she were staring at the Grim Reaper clad in red silk. "E—Elaine?" Adrian’s voice cracked, barely audible beneath the rising fever of the guests' whispers. I didn't blink. I let the silence hang, savoring every second of the terror crawling across the face of the man I once called my fiancé. But according to the plan Alistair and I had forged in the car, I didn't give him the answer he sought. I tilted my head slightly, observing him with a hollow, vacant expression as if he were nothing more than an insignificant insect that had accidentally flown into my path. "I beg your pardon?" my voice came out with a heavier, smoother, and en

London always knew how to hide its secrets behind a thick shroud of fog. Inside the majestic stone mansion on the outskirts of Belgravia, I no longer felt like the pitiable Elaine Vance. Here, under the heavy shadow of Alistair Blackwood, I was a masterpiece being meticulously restored. A week had passed since Adrian discarded me in the Black Forest during our journey to a private resort. He thought the silence of the woods would swallow my corpse. But fate had other plans when his father, Alistair—a man who had spent twenty years in self-imposed exile from his son's scandals—found me on that freezing asphalt. "Stand tall, Elaine. A Blackwood does not bow their head, not even before the Angel of Death." Alistair’s voice shattered the silence of a dressing room larger than my old apartment. He stood in the doorway, clad in a perfectly tailored three-piece tweed suit. In his hand, he idly fiddled with a gold pocket watch—a symbol of ancestral power. I stared at my reflection in

The world likely believed I was rotting at the bottom of a ravine in the Black Forest. But within the marble-clad luxury of Alistair Blackwood’s estate, I was being reborn. The body was the same, but the soul within was unrecognizable. The foolish, naive Elaine Vance was gone—that discarded girl had perished in the cold. In her place, a stranger had emerged. And I would make damn sure that Adrian would never reach the summit he so desperately coveted. Three days had passed since that bloody night. Alistair hadn't taken me to a public hospital; instead, he had sequestered me in his private penthouse overlooking the River Thames, the very heart of London. Here, I was tended to by silent medical staff and tight-lipped servants. Alistair himself was a ghostly presence—always there, watching from the shadows with an authority that felt untouchable. That morning, I stood before a massive floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the Vance Global building that loomed arrogantly in the distance.

The Black Forest no longer carried the soothing scent of pine. To me, the smell of damp earth and sharp pine needles was now the stench of a shallow grave. My body dragged across thorny brambles as I continued to crawl. Every inch of my torn skin felt like it was on fire, but the physical agony was nothing compared to the crushing weight in my chest at the memory of Adrian Blackwood’s face—the man who was supposed to recite holy vows to me at the altar next week in London. "Forgive me, Elaine. But Sienna is carrying my child. She needs recognition, and you... you just need to rest forever," Adrian had whispered two hours ago, right before he shoved me into a shallow ravine on the edge of this German forest. I had been unconscious for two hours. It was exactly midnight when we arrived here, and he discarded me like common refuse. Before leaving, he didn’t even bother to make sure I was dead. He was too much of a coward to look at blood. He simply threw me away, hoping the freezing