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Chapter 122

作者: Bunnykoo
last update 公開日: 2026-02-22 19:40:36
The executive wing was a different world—deep-pile carpet that swallowed sound, silk wallpaper in cream and gold, massive arrangements of white lilies on marble pedestals. The silence was absolute except for the hum of climate control and Aria’s ragged breathing.

Suite 3205 was at the far end. That’s where Mrs. Smith should be waiting with the land deeds.

But Cassandra was standing outside the door next to it—Suite 3204. She fumbled with a keycard, her movements jerky and unpracticed, then disap
Bunnykoo

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コメント (7)
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Susan
Seriously whats going on… Please release 3 chapters a a time….
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Leena Batohi Jaijai
More than one chapter a day please, at least four at a time so to enjoy the story
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JoJo mojo
What's wrong with Aria? health wise
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    A fresh wave of horror and grief washed over her, but she aggressively forced it down. She refused to break down again. She walked over to the edge of the mattress and sat down, the springs groaning loudly beneath her weight. She felt completely, utterly broken. Her head throbbed with a vicious migraine, and her bones ached with a deep, settling exhaustion.She slowly unbuttoned her heavy wool coat, letting it fall open but keeping it on for warmth as the room's radiator weakly clanked to life. She reached into her pocket, pulling out the remaining cash, and spread it out on the faded bedspread.Two hundred and forty-five dollars left.Aria stared at the bills, her exhausted mind trying to run the calculations. If she stayed in this cheap motel, paying sixty dollars a night, and ate only the cheapest food she could find at a corner bodega, this money would last her exactly four days. Maybe a week if she pushed it and skipped meals.And then what?

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    The harsh, blinding glare of the morning sun was what finally pulled her back to consciousness.Aria gasped, her eyes snapping open as a brilliant beam of light sliced through the scratched plexiglass of the bus shelter, hitting her directly in the face. For one fraction of a second, her sleep-addled brain thought she was back in the penthouse. She expected to feel the heavy, warm expanse of Damian’s chest pressed against her back, the soft Egyptian cotton sheets tangled around her legs.Then, the freezing New York wind whipped across her exposed neck, and the brutal, suffocating reality violently crashed down on her.She was not in a bed. She was lying curled on her side on a freezing metal bench on a deserted sidewalk.Aria squeezed her eyes shut, a jagged, breathless whimper escaping her cracked lips. The memory of the previous night slammed into her mind like a physical blow. The ruined roses. The shattered glass. The terrifying, dead look in

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    Desmond Hale.Her father. The man who had publicly cut all ties with her, announcing to the world that she was dead to him. The man who had looked away while Cassandra abused her for years. He was a cold, calculating, selfish man, but he was her blood. He was the only family she had left in the world. Surely, if his pregnant, penniless daughter showed up at his doorstep freezing to death in the middle of the night, he wouldn't let her stay on the street.Aria forced herself to stand. Her legs were incredibly weak, trembling beneath her weight, but she forced them to move.She walked for another agonizing hour. The miles stretched endlessly, her boots dragging heavily against the pavement. By the time she finally reached the exclusive, heavily guarded neighborhood where her father’s sprawling estate was located, she was completely exhausted. Her vision was spotting with dark edges, her stomach cramping lightly from the physical exertion and the lack of food

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    The heavy glass doors of the luxury high-rise slid shut behind her with a quiet, dismissive whisper. Aria stood on the edge of the concrete sidewalk, completely frozen. The biting, bitter wind of the New York evening whipped down the avenue, tearing through her unbuttoned wool coat, but she didn’t feel the cold. She didn’t feel her feet inside her boots. She didn’t feel the air entering her lungs. She stood under the harsh glare of a streetlamp, staring blankly at the passing traffic, looking exactly like a living corpse. Just twenty minutes ago, she had been vibrating with the greatest joy of her entire life. She had been carrying the physical proof of their future in her hands, her heart bursting with the absolute certainty that Damian would sweep her into his arms, that his dark eyes would light up with the overwhelming love he had shown her every single morning since he placed that diamond on her finger.

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    Damian looked down at her crying at his feet. For a fraction of a second, the violent, explosive rage in his face seemed to fracture, giving way to a devastating, completely broken agony."Is this revenge?" Damian asked, his voice dropping into a raw, trembling rasp. The heartbreak bled heavily through the words. "Did you hate me that much for how I treated you in the beginning? Did you play the long game just to ruin me?""No! Never!" she wept, gripping his legs tighter. "I fell in love with you! You are my whole world!"Damian’s jaw tightened. The brief, agonizing window of vulnerability slammed permanently shut. He reached down, his massive hands grabbing her shoulders. With one violent, merciless jerk, he ripped her off his legs and threw her backward onto the floor."Get off me," he sneered, looking at her with absolute, freezing contempt.Desperation clawed at her raw throat. She was losing him. The digital footprint had entirely blinded him. She frantically looked around the de

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    The first was a shot of her sitting at her favorite French cafe three blocks south of their building. But she wasn't alone. Sitting directly across from her was a blonde man in a sharp grey suit. The photo was perfectly framed through the cafe window, capturing Aria’s hand resting intimately, undeniably, over his on the center of the small wooden table.The second photo shifted to the dingy, yellow lighting of a cheap hotel room. A lumpy mattress. And there, tangled in the sheets, was the same blonde man, his hands gripping the hips of a woman whose head was thrown back in ecstasy, her dark hair splayed across the pillows. Aria stared at the woman's face. It was her. The beige trench coat she had bought last month was clearly visible, discarded on the filthy floor.Beneath the glossy photos were thick pages of printed text. Transcripts. Encrypted chat logs leaking highly confidential corporate details, contract numbers, and blind spots in Damian’s internal company servers.The blood i

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    Something flashed in his eyes. Dangerous."You're comparing—""I'm telling you the TRUTH!" Her voice cracked. "You're not punishing me for lying! You're punishing me because I saw something in you that wasn't there! I thought you were better than this! I thought—" She choked on the words. "But you'

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    The coat Damian had sent—the camel wool armor with the threatening note hung in the back of Aria’s closet, hidden behind a row of old flannel shirts.She hadn’t worn it since that night. She couldn’t. Every time she looked at it, she felt a phantom weight on her shoulders, a reminder of his cold, di

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    "I need a dress," Damian said, cutting through the pleasantries.He gestured to Aria, who was standing awkwardly behind him, dripping rainwater onto the plush carpet.The manager looked at Aria. He looked at her cheap sweater. He looked at her wet hair. His nose wrinkled slightly."For... the young

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