LOGIN“Good.” Chef Isabelle Moreau tapped her clipboard sharply. “Mise en place finishes in fifteen minutes. Then we begin. Remember: your stations are your domains. Defend them.” She paused. “Lena—” Lena’s head jerked up. “—you look like you’re somewhere else today. Bring yourself back.” “Yes, Chef,” Lena replied, her cheeks warming. She gripped her knife tighter and glanced sideways at Antoine, who offered her a small, encouraging nod. Lena had always been the standout student in her cohort—talented, focused, and from one of the wealthiest families in the program, which made her equally popular among both students and instructors. As Chef Isabelle Moreau strode out of the kitchen to fetch their special guest, Antoine leaned toward Lena and whispered. “Famous guest, huh? Who do you think it’s going to be?” Lena exhaled slowly. “No idea… but I’m ready for anything.” "That's why you are my partner, gorgeous and courageous." Antonie said with a chuckle. "Go back to your stati
AUTHOR'S POV**LOCATION: École Supérieure de Cuisine, Paris, France**The air inside the training kitchen hummed with intensity.Twenty students in chef whites with double-breasted jackets buttoned tightly, black-and-white houndstooth pants, and neckerchiefs knotted, were all moving around their stations.Lena stood at station four,spacing out. Her dark hair was tucked neatly beneath her white chef’s cap, but her mind was miles away, replaying the fan edits and celebrity shipping videos of Tarzan she had watched out of jealousy the night before until she finally fell asleep.“Lena?”A familiar voice cut through the fog.It was Antoine, her regular partner on group projects, leaning over the counter with a half-grin. His jacket sleeves were already rolled once, revealing forearms marked by the faint scars of a hundred accidental nicks.“You’ve been staring at the wall like they owe you money,” he said. “What’s going on?”Lena blinked then forced a quick smile.“Nothing. I’m fine. Just
LENA'S POVMy second week at culinary school, and Andres still hadn’t called. Mother and Father said he was swamped with business—too busy to talk. If I needed to speak with anyone else in the family, I should call Christy instead. Even though I tried to be happy for him, I couldn’t shake the unease. Andres had called me almost every single day since I left home. Then, during our last conversation, he asked an unusual question: *Are you pregnant?* His tone wasn’t playful or cocky like usual. He sounded… certain.I didn’t want to dwell on it. But ever since I moved out, the dreams had stopped.Back at home...Every night, Andres would visit me while I was mourning my lost baby...I always had the worst terrifying dreams. In those dreams, I tried to tell him no, but the words never left my mouth. My body felt heavy, paralyzed. I could only make weak, senseless sounds while he had sex to me..putting me in different various sex positions...or maybe rape is the word. Afterward, he wou
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“Are you surprised?”Lord Ricardo asked, tilting his head slightly. His eyes were dead—hollow voids of betrayal.Andres crumpled further onto the floor, lying flat in a spreading pool of his own blood, his body trembling with each shallow breath. Then, a heavy, psychotic laughter bubbled up from his chest—raw, guttural, and unhinged.Doctor Han betrayed him. He had confessed only because Ricardo had spared his life after revealing that Andres had wanted him dead."Fucking hell."Andres cursed, dragging a blood-smeared hand across his face, then slowly pulling it away. His eyes burned with madness and anguish as he stared up at the man he had once called father.“I have been nothing but a kind father to you… and this is how you repay me?” Ricardo’s voice cracked with venom. “You rape my daughter? Just days after you killed her baby? I should have ended you when you murdered my best friend. My own weakness—my sentiment—has cursed my daughter with this future trauma. You bastard!”Lord
AUTHOR'S POVAndres's convoy rolled through the towering gates of the Ricardo's estate.One of the guards, a burly man named Marco, rushed ahead and swung open the grand oak door with a respectful nod.Andres stepped out, adjusting his sleeve cuff with his usual arrogant composure.Before he could even cross the threshold, Damon appeared at the entrance. In his hand, a black pistol was aimed directly at Andres's chest.Andres froze mid-step, surprise flashing across his face—then he pushed it aside and smirked."Damon? What the hell is this? Have you lost your mind? If you're planning to avenge your boyfriend, do it in secret—not inside my domain!"Damon's lips curled into a mocking sneer, his finger steady on the trigger."Lost my mind? I should be asking you that, you piece of shit. You really thought you could just stroll back into this Estate like nothing happened?"Piece of shit? Did he just call me a piece of shit? Andres thought in awe."I am tired of this circus show. Someone
The first man leaned back, his eyes narrowing as he looked me over again. I noticed his gaze lingered on my stomach. “Damn,” he said with a cruel laugh. “No wonder you’re so uptight. Look at the size of you. How much do you weigh, anyway? Two-fifty? Three hundred? Bet that’s why your husband alwa
After the morning shift at the restaurant, my legs were already aching, but I still had to rush home, shower, and get ready for my night job at the bar. I hadn’t eaten anything since morning—just water—because I was still fasting to lose some pounds. Mitch hated the extra weight I’d gained. The mo
The message I sent to my husband Mitch was left unanswered. Just like the ones I sent days ago… weeks ago. He had stopped replying to my texts. I scrolled through the one-sided conversation, my heart tightening at how pathetic it looked. Suddenly, a message popped up. Hoping it was his reply, I
MITCH'S POV I was staring at the TV replaying highlights of the match we’d lost 3-1 with bottles on the table in front of me. I cracked open another one, trying to flush down the frustration inside my chest. My childhood friend Jake walked in from the kitchen, towel over his shoulder, and rai







