로그인Ricardo lifted his eyes slowly. "I can't blame Laila. She was forced into marriage with me. Every one of those children belonged to the man she truly loved—her father’s gardener.” Victor’s voice hardened. “What so you mean you can't blame her? She cheated on you, knew those children weren’t yours, and still let you love them, raise them, and bond with them as if they were. That’s cruelty. I never thought she could be worse than my own wife." Ricardo’s mouth twitched. “What’s going on with you and Amelia? You’re still not divorced? I thought you two worked things out." Victor exhaled. "I thought too but she hasn't changed at all. She keeps using my impotence to keep me under her thumb. And my biggest regret is our adopted daughter. I spoiled her far beyond what I should have.” Ricardo sighed. “Is it too late to bring her back to reality?” Victor looked up. “What do you suggest?” “Talk to her.” Ricardo replied. Victor gave a bitter laugh. “Talk to her? She is n
AUTHOR'S POV (RICARDO’S ESTATE) Ricardo sat behind his massive black desk, one hand wrapped around a glass of untouched whiskey, the other resting against the polished edge of the table. Across from him sat his favorite cousin, Victor—the only member of the family Ricardo trusted enough to hear about everything that had changed in his household over a year now. Victor studied him carefully. “So let me get this straight,” he said at last. “You’re telling me Andres wasn’t your true heir… and that your three daughters aren’t yours either?” Ricardo let out a short, humorless laugh. “You heard me correctly. Honestly, even now I still find it almost impossible to believe. Those were the same children whose first steps I watched. I gave them everything—the best schools, monthly allowances, protection from every danger I could foresee.” His fingers curled into a fist against the desk. “And when that bastard killed my friend, I carried the weight of it. I took full respons
"My feet."He looked at her feet.Then at her."What's wrong? Does it hurt?"She nodded."Can you help me with a massage?" she asked.Tarzan didn't hesitate.He immediately pulled his chair closer, gently lifting her feet and settling them across his lap. His hands wrapped around one foot first, thumbs pressing carefully into the sole.Lena immediately relaxed; her shoulders dropped, and her eyes fluttered closed."Oh..."Tarzan smiled."That felt good?""So good."She chuckled.Tarzan worked slowly, moving from her heel to the arch, then toward her toes. Whenever he pressed a particularly sore spot, Lena's toes curled slightly—and he noticed."Here?""Yes."He massaged the area again, more softly this time."Better?""Much."She picked up another bite of food and ate while he continued. Every few moments, she glanced down at him. There was something almost absurdly tender about the sight: the man who could be intimidating when he wanted to, now sitting there patiently massaging her f
"We are not married yet," Lena reminded him. She expected a reply, but he was quiet. I wonder if that made him upset in some way.*I haven't even divorced Mitch yet ..I have a lot to do when we get back to the United States.* Lena stepped into the warm bath. He waited nearby, listening to the soft splash of water as she soaked. When she finally stepped out, she reached for her bathrobe. Tarzan handed it to her before taking the towel. "Come here," he instructed. He gently dried her hair, carefully patting away the excess water before running the towel through the ends. Lena stood quietly in front of him, eyes half-closed. There was something incredibly domestic about the moment—the way he patted her hair dry and massaged her scalp. It felt so nice, so romantic. Just him taking care of her. When her hair was damp rather than dripping, he guided her out of the bathroom. Lena put on her cozy bedroom robe, and he led her toward the vanity. "Sit." She sat. He picked up the h
NEW LOCATION: PARIS, France The morning had slipped by in quiet stillness, and by afternoon, the sky had turned overcast, releasing a soft, steady rain. The room was unusually peaceful, filled with the muted hush of summer rain streaming down the floor-to-ceiling windows. Tarzan had been awake for hours. He sat comfortably against the headboard, one leg stretched beneath the covers and the other bent slightly, a book resting open in his hands. But every so often, his attention drifted from the page. To Lena. She was still asleep beside him, barely having moved all morning. She lay curled beneath the blanket, her hair fanned out across the pillow in a messy halo. Every time he glanced at her, a smile tugged at his lips. She had slept through the entire morning, and he hadn't had the heart to disturb her. After last night, she certainly needed the rest. Still, he had quietly prepared a meal for when she woke, making sure something warm would be waiting for her. Eventually,
She watched the young women startle and immediately scattered back to their duties. But the truth was, she hadn't heard a word they'd said. Their voices had been nothing but a dull hum beneath the roaring in her ears. However, she knows for sure they were talking about her. Her eyes clouded with unshed tears, and her chest felt heavy—like someone had filled her lungs with stones. She blinked rapidly, desperately, refusing to let the tears fall. Not here at work, she can't be crying at work. "How can I ever see Lena to ask for her forgiveness?" The thought came like a stabbing idea in her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut, and the memories of the last time she was with Lena came back. That night. The rain had been pounding against the windows. Lena had shown up on her doorstep, drenched and desperate, her mascara running down her cheeks like black tears. "Julia, please, you have to believe me. He's lying. I would never—" But Julia hadn't listened. She'd bee
LENA'S POV What a day... I drifted through the rest of my shift like a shadow, barely present. Julia and the girls noticed. They gently pulled me aside and told me to take a break—they'd cover for me, they wouldn't say anything to the boss since she's still on maternity leave. I whispered a sh
The first guard blinked at him, then let out a short, disbelieving laugh under his breath. "No," he said flatly. "No way." The second didn't even turn his head. "You're in denial," he whispered back. "I'm realistic," the first shot back. "You're telling me him—the young master" he jerked his c
Suddenly, we heard the front door slam.Jake's head snapped up."Jake?!"Jake's wife, Sarah, called out as she stormed down the stairs like a hurricane in yoga pants and a messy bun. Her face was twisted with pure rage, eyes already red and glassy."You cheating piece of shit!" she screamed, pointi
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







