LOGIN[WARNING 18+] This book contains descriptive intimate and violent scenes. There could be triggering content like self-harm, drug addiction, and depression. [TROPES] Billionaire. Revenge. Second Chance. Escape while pregnant. - When Mellow Fanning married Zeath Lupin, the cold chairman of Lupin Group, she thought their love was forever. But everything crumbled when he introduced his pregnant mistress at a family dinner. Angry, Mellow sought to make Zeath restless by kidnapping the mistress. However, that resulted in a tragedy that nearly claimed her life and that of the child growing inside her—a child Zeath didn’t deserve. She faked her death and ran away, bound to return as Zeath’s only means to remain as the chairman of Lupin Group. Would he recognize her? Would she accept his apology if he ever gave one? And what would happen when the threat she once fled from rekindled, endangering her and her child’s lives once more? >>>>> “Do you know how much I wished you wouldn’t come near me, or even... touch me?” Zeath drones on. “All those cuddles and kisses, all the affection, made my skin crawl—like a troll embracing its victim before gobbling them. One can only imagine how much it stinks. You are no different from that troll. You merely caught my attention because you were a self-absorbed twonk, and we needed to test if you even had the heart to love another.” “We?” I croak out. Then Zeath’s fingers trail gently along my face, his eyes glinting with pure poison, and his voice is no better. “Poor Mellow, it is all a dare, a gratifying one. Divorce or not, it’s your choice.”
View MoreMELLOW.
“We’re eleven weeks pregnant!” the bitch squeals, exalted by cheers from everyone. Zeath showing up at the Lupin family’s dinner with his ex-girlfriend is insulting. And I can’t believe my eyes as I gaze at them standing at the head of the table. He doesn’t explain himself. Nobody else does. But they know what the heck’s going on and are hell-bent on leaving me in the dark. It crosses my mind to remove myself from the situation. However, instead of doing that, I blurt out, “Zeath, babe, what’s going on?” The man ignores me. Now I’m just sitting where I am, eyes stuck on him as he pulls out a seat for his ex before sitting beside her. She softly bumps her shoulder against his, then watches as he dishes food for her. I want to believe it’s a prank. And I’m waiting for someone to say, ‘Got ya!’ Can someone please tell me what is going on? I can’t be the only one who’s curious, right? Except, I am. No one seems to mind. They’re all absorbed in the moment, acting like it’s normal. And the more their silence stretches, the more it feels like I could choke on my food. Mama Tia, Zeath’s grandma, has been watching me for some time now. She was always the best comfort: soft-spoken and never hesitated to mention her love for me. But her next words drive a spike through my heart. “Whoever feels uncomfortable should leave.” Aside from me, no one else feels uncomfortable, at least not the way I see it, which means those words are for me. If only she knew I’m not leaving until I’m done with my dinner. Zeath’s brother raises a champagne glass. “A toast to my brother, his beautiful wife, Yolie, and their blessed unborn.” After a moment of hesitation, everyone raises their glasses in silence. I do too, but I frown deeply. I only now observe the toaster, East, from beneath my lashes while sipping my wine. He meets my gaze and smirks, then relaxes in his seat. “Sorry, I forgot you, Melon,” he says. He’s mocking me. “Shall we toast to your twenty-six years of abstinence, then?” I scoff. Fuck East and his rotten toast. I could squash his glass on his head and force the pieces into his mouth. Pray that it cuts the bloody fucker’s tongue. “To hell with you, East,” I snap, right before Zeath gets up noisily and heads toward the restroom. And despite the eyes on me, I follow him. Male toilet or not, I stand behind him as he relieves himself. He doesn’t even act like I’m there, going as far as trying to leave when he’s done. Only, I’m faster. I push myself to his front before resting against the door to block his way out. “This is about the child, isn’t it?” I rap, taking a breath and a moment of silence before adding, “Or sex.” Zeath chose not to reply. He slowly walks to the sink again, resting his hands on it while looking at himself in the mirror. His side face is what I get—a smoking beauty, but mostly the center of enthrallment that flaunts a crown in the wake of its glory. I want to hold him like I always did: jump on his massive form and stick my arms and legs around him like a koala while reveling in the feel of his bulging crotch against me. He’s way past six feet, while I’m eye-level with his chest. The courage to measure my height hasn’t really found me yet. What’s the use, anyway? It’s better to see it than to count in feet, after all. “Zeath,” I sigh before pulling myself from the door to approach my husband with a whisper, “We were fine... yesterday. This morning too. Fuck, even an hour ago. What went wrong?” I stop about two paces from him, just enough to view him fully. “Answer me, Zeath, please. We’ve never quarreled, we’ve never argued, we’ve never disagreed or misunderstood each other, so this is just... weird.” The man tries to walk away again. This time, I lunge at him, nudging him backward with my chest so he won't go near the door. Every action he takes is bound to erase every trace of what we had. And he seems to know that, to want that. “Is this how you want to do this? Be weird?” I bark, pissed to the core. “I never thought I’d ever have to do this, but maybe I should!” Fingers curled and secured, each fist pounds repeatedly into Zeath’s chest. “You embarrassed me in front of your fucking family, Zeath! Stop being a coward! You can’t just ghost me, can you? This is not what we are! This is not what we dreamed of becoming, so tell me, babe, tell me why you’re doing this!” I’m left in a puffing and panting state when I’m done, while he merely stands in front of me, staring down at me with eyes colder than the Eastern Antarctic. “Are you being threatened?” I mutter amidst deep breaths, unable to stop my heart from beating very fast. Then I nod as if realizing something. “You’re being threatened, right?” There’s so much I know about Zeath. And it’s that he has so many enemies they’re nearly uncountable. The ones he got from high school and college that grew into adulthood are breathing well. Not to mention that bring the Chairman of Lupin Group, it’s either the masses against him or competing groups. Hell, even his brother’s a damn villain. And maybe Mama Tia should start shredding her peels of goodwill as well. Who knew what they made him do? Seeing as I haven’t given him a child or consummated our marriage yet, he must have been pressured into feeling the need for one. Maybe this is all my fault for keeping to my family’s damn law! What does it provide, anyway, aside from a broken marriage? “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Mellow,” Zeath says flatly, “or envy either.” Those words roll right into my brain. They make me even angrier. “You think I’m jealous and envious?” I yell, throwing my hands in frustration. “Thirty-something fucking months together, and that’s what you reduce me to? I don’t even know if I’m mad at you. Maybe it’s disappointment. I expected so much more, and these actions of yours are lower than the ocean’s depths!” I smack his chest with that last word, then I turn around to open the door, stepping out before facing the motherfucker again. “But, oh, you will tell me the reason. I give you today as a pass. I won’t be so compliant next time.” The sound of the slamming door is thrilling and satisfying, yet not enough to quench the pain boiling in my chest. I never knew agony could drive so deep. How would I, though? I’m the Fanning princess. Even as my sister would take over my mom’s factories, I got freedom. And I was satisfied. How many can say they married the man they loved, attended the school they wanted, and could have whatever in the damn world pleased them? I’m Mellow Fanning Lupin, the second daughter of Country Zee’s president. But fairy tales are mere delusions. They’re colorful... even blinding. Until the sheaths come off and worms writhe in the distaste of a painful reality. Zeath Lupin and I have been married for two years. We are the perfect model couple. Always trending for the right reasons. I thought we were in love. But maybe not. The pretense only had a quick run under a storm we couldn’t catch its prints—I couldn’t catch its prints. Now that I’m caught up with it, I’m stepping into its deep footprints. Squelchy ones that trap my legs in the mud like a sinkhole. My knees are feeble and threatening to fail in the discomfort of my heels. Still, I keep them going. I can’t be caught slacking off even as tears claw at my glands, stinging my eyes, an antagonist to my desire to stay strong.Everybody knows about House Fanning’s abstinence rule, which is why the internet always fusses big time on a Fanning woman’s marriage.People joked about the rule, creating memes to satisfy their bloody humor. If only they knew what really happened behind the formal facade. Anyways, it’s not as if they care, seeing as they are fucking applauding and cheering to the announcement of my death—that I can’t help but laugh at.“Let’s keep moving,” I tell the driver while wiping tears off my face.The media wanted a scapegoat after my sex video was posted. They wanted something fun to look forward to. My father provided them with just that by making this goddamn video. Who knows what political shenanigans is going on behind the scenes; what dirty secrets they’re trying to hide by getting the mass distracted. And who knows whose body is being burnt in place of me? I don’t know if this is my father faking my death or someone has just fucked with their orders and got me out. Whichever one
A harsh ringing in my head says I’m fucked. Too fucked. My back aches so bad, and where I’m lying on feels moist and hard, carrying a metallic musky smell that leaves me heady.Opening my eyes, I find the place is dim and foggy. But it doesn’t mean I don’t see the little pools of water at different spots on the floor, which are probably from the drops leaking through the ceiling.I try to sit up with a groan. Large space full of undecipherable stuff. Metals walls. Ceiling made of iron rods. This is no other than a warehouse. These bastards fucking brought me to another warehouse? What now? Will they dig my grave here and bury me alive? Or will they set the whole place on fire?My escape is in front of me though—an ajar door letting in harsh sunlight. I could run and get away from all this. Who knows if this is my one chance to live.I cough as I get to my feet, dragging the latter toward the entrance before something catches my attention. There’s a floor-length mirror with a missin
MELLOW.They say time flies so fast. But, to me, a minute seems like a day of lingering pain. Thunder bolts and lightening ruling at my top, agony and inferiority sinking below.I was in the cube box before I suddenly blacked out. Waking up now, I find I’m in a new space. The walls are an unblemished cream, yet it’s the crystal clear ceiling that catches my attention.I don’t know how it was built. It looks like a dragon inhabits it, and the fiery paint splashed across it in the shape of many dancing swans is the creature’s proof of its wrath.As I hear footsteps approach from the hallway, I only notice where I am. This isn’t my home, though the design can only be a Lupin house. It isn’t Mama Tia’s either.Did Zeath bring me to one of the Lupin’s other buildings that he inherited? Because I’m certain he won’t bring me to his mom’s or his brother’s.“Hi, Melon,” East’s voice comes through the open door. I sit up to find him standing there—the ever dumb man with the demeanor of a mafi
ZEATH.“How about Yolie?” Mellow asks, her soft and pure eyes divulging all that there is in her mind. Fear. She’s terrified—of me, of what I could do. If only she knew what really awaits her; and it’s not the divorce papers she may be expecting. Of course, she’s going to live each day thinking I may serve her divorce papers. But she won’t see what’s coming.“I… will take care of her…” I couldn’t complete that sentence. I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise now, would I?She keeps looking at me with innocence in her eyes. But maybe it’s why I despised her in the first place. I’ve not always inclined to those who look guiltless. No one is ever not guilty—that’s what I think. And I hate it when some people can mask their sins. Yolie has a mild face, her attitude however says different. Unlike Mellow, she shows what she really is. But if anyone told me Mellow would do what she did to her, I wouldn’t believe, as her pure looks are deceiving, as well as her character.Arriving at my ma






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