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I heard Rosa speak to me again and blinked. "What is wrong with you? I have been talking to you!" she snapped. "I'm sorry—I really don't understand the language you were speaking." "You are not Latina?" she asked suddenly, tilting her head as she studied my face. "Um... no." "You look like one," she said. First Indian, now Latina...? I wonder what other ethnicity I'll be told I look like. Mother, I wish you'd told me who I really am before you left me alone in this world. "Now, as you can see, this is the kitchen," she declared, waving me forward with both hands. "Come in, come in! Don't just stand there like a lost puppy." I muttered a quick "thank you" and stepped fully inside, my eyes wide as I continued to admire the space—professional-grade ovens, a walk-in pantry that could feed an army, and every gadget imaginable. "Over here," she snapped her fingers sharply, pulling me out of my daze. I blinked, heat rushing to my face. "Sorry! I got distracted by the beauty... this
LENA'S POV The sharp knock on the door jolted me awake with my heart slamming against my ribs like a startled bird. I blinked rapidly, disoriented, with silky sheets tangled around my legs. Oh no! Only then did the memories flood back. I had let my guard down completely, falling asleep in this unfamiliar room after accepting an offer in a haze of desperation yesterday. I had told myself to stay awake not and not be too trusting but I fell asleep instead. "Who..who is it?" I called out, my voice still hoarse from sleep. "This is Chef Rosa. Are you still asleep in there?" The voice replied. I blinked, and the last remnants of sleep vanished from my eyes immediately. That's right. Yesterday, I'd accepted the position as an assistant chef and even signed a full-year contract because I was utterly desperate for a place to stay. It came with a roof over my head and the chance to do what I loved most—cooking. The man who made the offer, though... he was someone I'd rather avo
If you are paying attention from the beginning of this book: · Mitch praised Lena for her cooking skills. · Lena is working at the café because she loves anything that has to do with cooking, which includes baking. · The culinary school didn't come out of nowhere. · She is not going to the school yet because she has no MONEY, of course 🫢 · She was only thinking about her new dreams of having a restaurant, and then she was thinking of focusing on herself and going to culinary school if she gets the MONEY. · Her childhood dream, which she buried after she met MITCH and decided to be a houseWIFE. 2) Now... about the driving to somewhere unknown—her destination will be revealed soon. But the SUITE SCENE IS A DREAM 🫡 If you read the next chapters, you can see it was TARZAN'S DREAM. LENA'S POV stopped at her going somewhere in a car, while AUTHOR'S POV began with Lena seeing Tarzan in a suit. The two are different scenes: ONE is REALITY; the other is A DREAM. That's why I used
"We did it... Our true love’s kiss healed you. It wasn’t a stupid idea after all." Lena said with a delightful laugh and threw herself into his arms. They tumbled backward onto the bed. Tarzan’s deep laughter rumbled through his chest as Lena giggled against his neck, pure happiness bubbling out of her. "You will always be my dream, Lena," he murmured, cupping her face with both hands, his voice low and fervent. "I can’t imagine a life without you." Lena blushed deeply, the color blooming across her cheeks. She searched his eyes. "So... do you really mean those cruel words you said to me before?" Tarzan’s expression softened with regret. He pulled her closer, their foreheads touching. "All lies. Every single one of them. I wanted to keep you safe... That was the only way I knew how. It worked, but at the cost of our love." She kissed him then — slow, deep, and full of forgiveness. When she pulled back, her face softened even more "That’s all I wanted to hear.
His tongue swept into her mouth, tasting her tears nd she moaned into him in a low, involuntary needy sound that vibrated against his lips. "Mmm..." The moan slipped out again as he angled his head, devouring her like a starved man. His other hand gripped her waist, fingers digging into her flesh through the fabric of her clothes, pulling her body close against his. The kiss grew hotter, messier with their tongues tangled, breaths mingled in ragged gasps. Lena’s hands roamed his chest, forgetting for a moment the blood still seeping from his side. She whimpered when he sucked on her lower lip, biting it gently before soothing it with his tongue. Another moan escaped her—deeper this time, raw with pent-up longing. Tarzan groaned against her mouth, but this groan was different. Despite the excruciating pain radiating from his wound, despite the weakness dragging at his limbs, heat flooded his body. He felt himself growing hard, his cock thickening and straining against the
"He won’t answer," Tarzan said quietly. "None of them did. I’m alone... I only have you, Lena." Panic clawed at her throat. She bolted toward the door to get help, but the moment she reached it, the door simply vanished. A solid wall stood in its place as if it had never existed. Lena froze, heart hammering wildly. "A wall?" she whispered in disbelief, pressing her palms against the hard surface. "The door... it just disappeared right in front of me." She spun back to him, eyes wide with horror. "Did you see that? What's going on?" "It’s okay," Tarzan murmured, his breathing shallow. "The closed walls will keep you safe. I made sure of it. Once I’m gone... they’ll open again for yo and you will have a better life." Rage and fear collided inside her. She stormed back to the bed, grabbing his collar with both hands and yanking him closer. "What the hell are you even saying?!" she shouted, voice cracking. "Tarzan, this isn’t a game! You’re bleeding out! The door is g
“The usual,” Julia said with a knowing smile. “That tall biker guy is back. Only he gets our girls this excited.” My stomach did a little flip. “Who?” “You know exactly who — the mysterious one who makes all the young girls drool over him. The biker one… the tallest one.” She was trying rea
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
I forced myself up and walked back into the bedroom Mitch and I had shared for three years of our marriage. I hadn’t slept in that bed for over two years now. Not since I left it. Every morning, he used to wake me up to complain about my snoring. I apologized. Then… I started staying awake







