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112. Another Kiss, Another Lie
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2025-08-02 18:01:09My feet wouldn’t move.
I stood there like the ground had grown teeth and clamped around my ankles, frozen in the echo of that kiss. It was so right on the lips, right in front of me, like I didn’t even exist.My chest tightened as if the world had just twisted sideways. Something bitter rose in my throat, burning.“Lorraine.” Misha’s voice cut through the air behind me, low and urgent.But I didn't look at him.I couldn’t.The sound of the gala inside was already a distant echo of soft music, clinking glasses, voices I no longer cared to decipher. My heart was beating so loud I could barely hear Misha calling my name.I ran. I didn’t stop. Didn’t turn around.The night air was cold, and I stumbled once, hard enough to nearly hit the asphalt. My breath hitched, vision swimming, and that was when I yanked the shoes off, the straps cutting into my fingers as I ripped them free. I hurled one toward the edge of the
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Accidentally Kidnapped the Warlord and Became His Wife 112. Another Kiss, Another Lie
My feet wouldn’t move.I stood there like the ground had grown teeth and clamped around my ankles, frozen in the echo of that kiss. It was so right on the lips, right in front of me, like I didn’t even exist.My chest tightened as if the world had just twisted sideways. Something bitter rose in my throat, burning.“Lorraine.” Misha’s voice cut through the air behind me, low and urgent.But I didn't look at him. I couldn’t.The sound of the gala inside was already a distant echo of soft music, clinking glasses, voices I no longer cared to decipher. My heart was beating so loud I could barely hear Misha calling my name. I ran. I didn’t stop. Didn’t turn around.The night air was cold, and I stumbled once, hard enough to nearly hit the asphalt. My breath hitched, vision swimming, and that was when I yanked the shoes off, the straps cutting into my fingers as I ripped them free. I hurled one toward the edge of the
Accidentally Kidnapped the Warlord and Became His Wife 111. Right On the Lips
The woman looked down at herself, blinked, and then, to my absolute confusion, laughed. A bright, amused sound burst from her, light and unbothered. “Well,” she said, still chuckling, “That’s certainly one way to leave an impression.”She didn’t look like the other women at the gala with their glitzy theatrics or overdone glamour. There was an ease to her elegance, like she didn’t need to try. Mid-thirties, maybe around Misha’s age, with poised features and sharp dark eyes that didn’t miss much. Her raven-black hair was swept into a smooth knot at the nape of her neck, a few deliberate strands curling near her cheekbones. The ruined dress clung to her figure like it had been custom-made, but she didn’t seem to care about the damage at all.“I guess I finally have an excuse to leave early,” she added with a shrug. “I was getting bored out of my mind.”I stared at her. “Wait—you’re seriously not mad?”She smiled. “Not in the slightest. Hon
Accidentally Kidnapped the Warlord and Became His Wife 110. Dinner with the Backstabbers? Absolutely Not
The game ended more than an hour later. I knew the tension didn’t vanish, because there was still talk about what's to be done next. Vincent rose first amongst the others. Silas followed without a word, already scanning the room like he was reading everyone’s next three moves. While Misha stretched lazily, like winning hadn't taken any effort, and let out a theatrical yawn before joining them. He must be acting, but I also witnessed how he easily played Sebastian and his friends at the casino. As the trio dispersed into quieter conversations with the city’s puppet-masters, I stood by, half-invisible, not quite sure where to go next. That’s when Renaldi approached, smiling too brightly.“You shouldn’t be lingering around all this testosterone and politics, Miss Lorraine,” he said with a playful lilt, gesturing subtly toward a group of women near the bar. “Come, let me introduce you to some proper company. I’m sure you’ll find their conversations much more
Accidentally Kidnapped the Warlord and Became His Wife 109. Behind Every Chips
I watched the blood drain from Ezra's face like water through a cracked cup. His eyes shot to me, then back to Vincent, then again to me, as if trying to find a crack in the truth. A tell. A lie.“You’re joking,” he said, a weak laugh punching through his throat. “This is some… what? Some bit? You’re joking, right? This girl?” He gestured wildly toward me. “She’s your—no. No, no, that doesn’t make sense.”I raised an eyebrow. “Still calling me ‘this girl’? Bold choice, Borken.”Ezra flinched like I’d slapped him.Mitchell finally spoke, but even he sounded uncertain. “Mr. Vescari… with all due respect, if this is a misunderstanding—”“There is no misunderstanding,” Vincent cut in, his voice calm as ever. “You’re right. She didn’t belong here.” He looked at me then. “Not until now that I brought her here with me.”My heart punched hard against my ribs.“She’s my daughter,” he said, softer now, but it e
Accidentally Kidnapped the Warlord and Became His Wife 108. Useless Ex-fiancée
“Lorraine? What the hell are you doing here?”I turned slowly. The same way you turn when you hear an old song that once meant something and now only stings.My fucking cheating ex-fiance. Dressed to impress. Hair perfect. Tie carefully loosened like he didn’t try too hard, but of course he did. Same smug mouth. Same arrogant eyes. And still just as good at pretending he’d never done a single thing wrong.I let my smile tilt. “Ezra Borken. I could say the same to you.”His father stood beside him, as stiff and immovable as a statue. His name was Mitchell Borken, the former city mayor turned councilman. Cold-eyed and whisper-powerful. He glanced at me, but said nothing. Ezra took a step closer, but before he could open his mouth again, Misha’s hand slid around my waist possessively.Then, with that low, smooth voice of his, Misha greeted. “Hey, Borken. Small world. Still circling tables, huh? I figured you’d be somewhere more exclusive. Like a therapist’s office, for example.”Ezra’s
Accidentally Kidnapped the Warlord and Became His Wife 107. A Little Game Old Men Plays
I’d never been to a place like the Harrington Estate.Gilded ceilings. Champagne towers. Laughter that sounded rehearsed. People with diamond cufflinks and cold eyes. The kind of crowd that could ruin lives with a word and smile while doing it. Politicians. They turned when we entered.Vincent Vescari was nearly seventy when the world thought had lost all four of his children. He hadn't been seen at a public function in years, and now here he was, walking in like a ghost resurrected, with a young woman at his side.Whispers followed us like shadows.“Is that her?”“She looks nothing like—”“I thought they all died.”“Long lost daughter? Seriously? Who fucking believes that?”But Vincent basked in it. Smiling. Nodding. Shaking hands with practiced ease. For all the darkness I’d seen in him, tonight he wore charm like a second skin.“She’s my daughter,” he told them. Over and over, to every curious face that greeted us. “We were separated for years. Life’s cruel like that.”He said it
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