Masuk
The sterile smell of antiseptic filled the air as I slowly opened my eyes, blinking against the harsh fluorescent lights. My body ached, each pulse of pain a reminder of the violence that had shattered my world.
Faint voices floated around me—muffled conversations between a doctor and a nurse. Their words were distant, like echoes from another life.
“She’s deeply injured… possible assault… We need to stabilize her.”
Assault. The word hit me like a jolt of electricity, but my mind was a foggy haze, struggling to grasp the reality of what had happened. I could feel the weight of my memories slipping away, like sand through my fingers.
All I knew was pain. My body felt foreign, bruised, and battered, and I was alone in this sterile room. Thoughts raced through my mind, but they were fragmented—snippets of laughter, shadows of faces, and a darkness that threatened to swallow me whole.
I tried to move, to sit up, but a wave of agony washed over me, forcing me back onto the pillow. Panic surged within me. What had happened? Who had done this to me? The questions clawed at my mind, but the answers eluded me, lost in the void of my memory.
"Mrs. Carter, Calm down, you are injured; please don't move," the nurse told me.
When the nurse said 'Mrs. Carter,' I remembered who I was: Howard Carter's wife, the faint memory of his face, and the cruelty he showed.
“Stay calm,” the nurse said, her voice soothing yet firm. “You’re safe now. We’re here to help you, Mrs. Carter.”
Safe. The word felt hollow. How could I feel safe when he had chosen to save his adopted sister and left me with those hungry wolves who ruined me? I remembered what had just happened. I was kidnapped. I could still hear Anastasia's cruel, mocking laugh echoing in my mind. How easily she drew everyone's attention to her.
When I saw Howard, I thought he had come to save me. After three years of marriage, he finally showed that he cared for me. But what he did only broke me further. Anastasia had acted so perfectly, pretending to be a victim as well, claiming that Howard's enemy, Jeremy Roger, had kidnapped her. I had helped Jeremy, pretending to be kidnapped myself, and the worst part was that Howard trusted her. Even after I begged him for help, even after I told him I was pregnant with his child, he chose to save her.
I still remembered his words, the way they cut through me like a knife: “Please, Howard, save me. I am not lying; she is the one who is lying. I did nothing. Trust me, I... I’m pregnant.”
And what did he do? He laughed bitterly, a sound that echoed with disbelief and contempt. “Pregnant? Who knows who the father of this child is? Stop your act, Charlotte; you are caught already.”
The weight of betrayal crushed me. I had hoped for a glimmer of understanding from the man I loved, but instead, I was met with scorn.
Anastasia's laughter filled my ears again, a reminder of how easily she manipulated everyone around her. I had been fighting for my life, for my dignity, while she played the role of the innocent victim. Howard had turned his back on me, believing her lies over my desperate pleas.
The walls of that room felt like they were closing in on me, and I was drowning in the realization that the man I had trusted had chosen to abandon me at my lowest point. I was left with nothing but the haunting echoes of his rejection and the bitter taste of betrayal.
Howard turned to leave with Anastasia; she paused and turned back to me, a smirk curling on her lips. The look in her eyes was one of triumph, as if she reveled in my despair. “Enjoy your stay, Charlotte,” she taunted, her voice dripping with mockery. “I hope you’re comfortable. You’ll be here for a while.”
With that, they disappeared into the shadows, leaving me alone with the men Howard thought were mine. My heart raced as I faced them, their predatory gazes locking onto me like vultures circling their prey. I stumbled backward, pressing against the cold wall, desperation clawing at my throat.
“Please, just leave me alone!” I begged, my voice trembling. “I haven’t done anything to you!”
One of the men stepped forward, a cruel grin spreading across his face. “Oh, we know all about you, sweetheart."
Jeremy was the first to approach me, his eyes dark and filled with malice. “You really thought Howard would save you?” he sneered. “He’s too busy with Anastasia. She’s offered me quite a deal, you know.”
“What do you mean?” I stammered my pulse quickening.
He leaned closer, his breath hot against my skin. “Anastasia promised me that if I helped her with this little kidnapping scheme, she’d convince Howard to drop that cheating case against me. She knows how to play him, and now I get to have my fun with you.”
“No! Please, Jeremy, don’t do this!” I cried, tears streaming down my face. “You don’t have to hurt me. Just let me go!”
He laughed, a harsh, mocking sound that echoed in the dimly lit room. “Let you go? After everything? You’re nothing but a pawn in this game, Charlotte. And I plan to enjoy every moment.”
As he moved closer, I felt the walls closing in around me, the air thick with fear and hopelessness. I was trapped, left to face the consequences of a betrayal I never saw coming.
“Anastasia will pay for this,” I whispered to myself, even as I felt the grip of despair tighten around me.
I blinked awake, the harsh fluorescent lights above me piercing through the fog of pain and confusion. My body felt like a battlefield—wounded and bleeding, every breath a reminder of the ordeal I had just endured. As I tried to move, a wave of agony washed over me, forcing me to gasp and clutch the sheets.
Panic surged through me as I remembered. “My baby!” I thought, my heart racing.
I reached out, my hand trembling as I grasped the nurse's hand. “Please,” I whispered, my voice hoarse and filled with desperation. “How is my baby?”
Her expression told me everything I feared; the sorrow in her eyes was enough to shatter my hope. I lost my baby.
The metallic tang hit him first, sharp and nauseating, mingling with the stale urine stench of the place. Chaos erupted instantly—nearby passengers froze, then screams pierced the air, high and jagged, as a woman clutched her chest and backed away. Phones were whipped out; flashes popped like gunfire.Matthew burst in seconds later, his team fanning out to block the door. "Clear the area!" he barked, voice booming over the hysteria. A scrawny teenage boy in a hoodie lingered too close, phone raised, filming with a ghoulish grin. "Hey, kid, put that away!" Matthew roared, lunging toward him.Ryan dropped to his knees beside Daisy, ignoring it all. His fingers pressed gently to her neck, slick with blood, searching for a pulse. It fluttered—weak, thready, barely there, but real. Hope surged through him like adrenaline. He looked up, voice low and steel-steady despite the tremor in his hands. "Matthew, stop. She's alive. We need to get her to a hospital now."Matthew whirled, face paling
Ryan's hands trembled slightly on the steering wheel as he pressed the phone harder against his ear, the gridlocked traffic a taunting barrier ahead. "Daisy is about to be attacked," he said, his voice low and urgent, cutting through the hum of horns.Logan replied flatly from the other end, skepticism sharpening his words. "In a place that packed with people? I don't think those guys would be dumb enough to try it."Ryan's eyes darted between lanes, seeking any sliver of escape. "Crowds are perfect—no one notices a damn thing. Tell me, is she alone right now, or is anyone near her?""Old woman next to her, sitting on the bench," Logan reported, his tone all business.Ryan floored the accelerator into a narrow gap, tires screeching. "Don't take your eyes off Daisy for one second. If anything happens to her, I'll never know what she's after or what Anastasia really wants.""As you say, boss," Logan acknowledged curtly. The call clicked off.Ryan slammed the phone into the passenger sea
Howard gripped the wheel of his sedan, easing out into the quiet morning streets as the cool sun cast long golden rays across the dew-kissed lawns and empty sidewalks. His mind, usually laser-focused on office briefs and meetings, drifted entirely to Charlotte—her gentle laugh.His mind, usually laser-focused on office briefs and meetings, drifted entirely to Charlotte. Breakfast that morning replayed in vivid detail: her gentle laugh bubbling up as he bit into the cupcake, smearing cream across his lips. "Oh, Howard," she said, eyes sparkling with amusement, reaching for a tissue from the counter.He took it with a grin but wiped the wrong side—his right side of lips instead of left. Charlotte burst out laughing again, a sound like wind chimes. "No, no, you missed it!" She grabbed another tissue, leaning in close across the small kitchen table, her fingers brushing his chin as she gently dabbed the cream away. Time slowed. Her eyes locked on his lips, soft and intent; his gaze held h
Howard stirred in the dimly lit bedroom, the shadows cast by the early morning sun slicing through the curtains like knives. He tossed off the covers, swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and planted his feet firmly on the plush carpet. Sleep had evaded him all night, his mind a battleground of regret, anger, and a creeping sense of vulnerability.He stalked to the bathroom, the marble cold beneath his feet, and splashed water on his face. The chill did little to banish the fatigue etched on his features. He stared at his reflection, the eyes staring back sharp, cold, and unyielding. "Get it together, Howard," he muttered, reaching for a towel.Dressed in a crisp white shirt and tailored suit, he exited the bedroom, the hallway stretching out before him like a gauntlet. The maid, Maria, looked up from polishing the banister, surprise flickering across her face."Good morning, Mr. Carter," she said, bobbing a curtsy. "Would you like breakfast—""No," he cut her off, his tone clippe
Howard sprawled on the king-sized bed in his cavernous bedroom, silk sheets tangled around his legs, eyes locked on the shadowed ceiling fan spinning lazy circles overhead. Vanessa's bitter slap burned fresh in memory, Ruby's tiny casket lowering into rain-soaked earth replayed in loops, and Charlotte's quiet departure sliced sharper than expected—minds tangled in grief's knot, twisting tighter with each breath.He rolled onto his side, punching the pillow once, hard—then flipped back, sheets whispering protest. The clock glowed 11:47 p.m.; sleep should've claimed him hours ago. Rest. Need it. But eyes stayed wide, body wired.A growl ripped from his throat. He sat up abruptly, raking hands through disheveled hair, feet hitting cold hardwood. Can't bear this empty room. Marriage barely days old—no love, no fire between them—yet her absence gnawed like hunger, the vanity mirror bare without her brush strokes, air too still sans her steady presence.He stalked to the mahogany bar rack i
Howard paused at the bedroom door in Carter Mansion, the once-dreaded space tied to his strained marriage with Charlotte now pulling him forward with a shifted mind, boots scuffing the marble threshold."Howard," came Anastasia's sweet voice from behind, lilting like honey.He turned, spotting Anastasia gliding down the hall, a steaming coffee cup cradled in both hands, her silk robe tied loosely, face beaming brighter than any day prior—eyes sparkling, steps light and eager.Howard's gaze dropped to the cup, steam curling up, then lifted to her glowing smile. She chimed happily, closing the distance with a sway, her innocent act blooming—head tilted, lips soft in that practiced pout."Howard," she cooed sweetly, voice dripping warmth as she stopped inches away, holding the cup higher. "I know you're angry with me, but really—I never wanted anything that hurts you. I care for you always. After all, you and your family treat me like your own, even though the truth is I'm not blood-rela
Howard entered his office without a word, the sound of his shoes echoing sharply against the marble floor. He caught sight of the files on his desk—stacked precisely, just as he’d instructed.Julia stood beside the desk, posture tense. When Howard glanced her way, she offered a quiet, “Good morning
Howard was busy on his laptop in his bedroom when there was a knock on the door.“Come in,” he said.Moments later, Anastasia entered with a cup of coffee, smiling sweetly.“Howard, your coffee,” she said.Howard looked up at her and smiled faintly.“Anna, thank you, but you don’t need to bring thi
Charlotte’s irritation grew. She finally broke the silence.“This is my duty time, and I’m supposed to be focused,” she said sharply, her voice edged with frustration. “And here I am with you... You neither take any initiative nor let anyone else do anything. At least tell me—where are we going?”H
The hall shimmered under soft chandeliers, elegant yet restrained. A touch of gold, a few white floral arrangements, and muted music set a dignified tone rather than an extravagant one.Eliot Carter, Mr. Wendell's son and the evening’s host, stood confidently on stage beside his father, greeting th







