Framed for murder by the man who vowed to protect her, Mikaela lost everything, including her memories. Now, he returns, claiming her as his wife once again, knowing sheâs forgotten his betrayal. And as she falls for him, she has no idea she's in love with the wrong manâŚ. again.
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Mikaela: âMikaela Abrams Selene, this is not a smart move to make. I'm not letting you give the family's art conglomerate to Ethan! Because you're the heir doesn't mean you can do whatever you want. If you go ahead, then I'm cutting you off!â âOh really, Mom? Really? You're cutting me off because I'm deciding to give the company to Ethan? Because I'm deciding to love him? Does that sound smart to you?â I scoffed, turning away as I approached the stairs. âHe will shatter you. You're too young for that, I don't want you to taste the bitterness I struggled with as a young adult. You're just nineteen!â I halted, my body going stiff. âWell, I heard that a million times already, but he hasn't broken my heart, has he? And We've been together for five months. Your words are invalid. Try again." "Your Father already had a deal with the Davidsons before he passed away, you are to marry Mr Davidson's son, Kevin. What has Ethan done to show that he loves?â I let out a sigh, my shoulders dropping. As I crossed my arms, I turned to face her. âOh, we're talking about this again? Because Kevin bought me a car doesn't mean he loves me, okay?â âWell, what does Ethan have to show? Is it the dirty jeans he owns? Don't be stupid! He can't even afford a bicycle. Let me guess, he doesn't pay for the gas when you pick him up. The only difference between Ethan and a beggar is that he has an apartment, which you pay the rent for!! Mika, he is poor. We are wealthy. There's a line between the wealthy and the poor that cannot be erased. What are you thinking?! A lot of guys are in love with you, but you chose a guy below average?â She raised her voice, a vein bulging across her forehead. "I'll make him wealthy. He has the potential." âExactly! He's after our money, and your body. What else do you want me to say to convince you?â âYou don't understand. I love him." I whispered, shaking my head. "But he doesn't love you.â âHe does!" âDon't come back crying to your dear mother when he breaks you!â â That was exactly four years ago, and I really wished I listened to my Mother. Instead of listening, I went ahead and got married to him. A lovely marriage somehow grew into a loveless one due to my inability to give him a child. I thought that was the worst that could happen to our marriage, only for my husband to come home with another lady a few months ago as she was carrying his child. I lived under the same roof with the woman my own husband loved. Everyday was a new reason to walk away from the marriage. The maltreatment from his mistress. The loneliness. The disrespect. It wasn't worth it. Each day unfolds with a greater hatred for Ethan dwelling in me. At the same time, I loved him. I loved him, yet hated him. I hate to love him! I let out a sigh as I strode down the passage, approaching my mother-in-lawâs room to pick the cup used to serve her tea an hour ago. She was the only person that didn't make me feel worthless. She loved me and believed I could give her son a child anytime soon. My brows furrowed as I got closer to the room. I could hear voices coming from inside. I pressed my head against the door, listening carefully. âYou are just being ungrateful, Mom!â Ethan's voice boomed. âUngrateful? Oh, Ethan, you have some nerve to call your own mother ungrateful!â Ma'am Maryanne, my mother-in-law, retorted. âWhy wouldn't I? I'm trying to build a family with Ava, yet you're going to stay on Mikaela's side? She is barren!â âYou expect me to be on Ava's side? Ava is nothing but a husband snatcher, and no modest woman would do something like that to her own gender!â She spat back, and the silence that followed was heavy. âI trained you better than this, Ethan.â âI love Mikaela but I can't commit to a marriage that's not going to develop a family for me.â âFamily? You think love is all about building a family? I'm so disappointed in you.â Her voice broke and her next words were barely above a frail whisper. âMikaela gave you everything we lacked, and this is how you plan to repay her?â Ethan remained silent. âShe loved you unconditionally and left her family for you. She gave you her father's company. She stood by you when you had nothing, and is still standing by you after this mistake you made.â She added. âI didn't ask her to.â He blurted out, his words cold and ruthless. I chewed the corner of my lips, my heart clenching in my ribcage. Before I could process anything, I felt the door swing away from me. Immediately, I raised my gaze, only to find Ethan standing before me. His teeth grinded, and his eyes burned with something I wouldn't want to name. He slammed the door behind him, stepping forward to close the distance between us. I retreated, slowly moving back. My eyes were etched with fear. âHow much did you hear?!â He barked, his teeth tightly clenched together. My back hit the wall. âI heard enough, at least.â I responded. Our eyes locked. He didn't say a word, but his eyes said it all as the bright emerald ate me up slowly. âDo you even love me?!â I screamed. âGive me one reason why I would love someone like you.â I sacrificed everything for him. I gave up my family. My pride. My heart. My inheritance. And now, I wasn't worth his love? I wasn't even worth a child? My stomach twisted, the pain heavy and gripping. âYou're good at everything, even eavesdropping, but you're unable to carry a child. You should be ashamed.â He spat, nailing my neck to the wall with his hand. âIf you ever eavesdrop on my conversations again, I will fucking kill you!â I gasped, struggling to breath. My fingers crawled up, and tried hitching off his hand but he wouldn't budge. He finally let go, giving me a last glare before storming away without looking back. I watched him walk away, his black hair shifting slightly with each determined step he took. My nails dug into my palm, and I swear I felt my heart shift for a second. I squeezed my eyes shut, letting out a sigh, as I turned to the door. As soon as I stepped into the room, I was met with Ma'am Maryanne lying loosely on the ground. My brows furrowed. âMa'am.â I called, my voice soft. She didn't respond. I squatted before her, glancing at her face that seemed a little pale. âMaryanne.â I called again, my voice breaking this time. She maintained the same position, and worry washed over me. I moved closer, placing my index and middle finger on her neck. A cold sensation traveled from my head to my toes while I struggled to process the situation. Ma'am Maryanne wasâŚ.dead. Immediately, I scrambled my way out of the room, halting when I spotted Ethan at the other end of the passage. He was just about to enter his room. âEthan!â I screamed, my voice booming through the mansion. His neck cocked to look at me. âEthan!!â I screamed again. My chest heaved up and down. I was unable to leave the spot I was standing as my legs were giving up on me. âCome, quick!â His gaze twitched. He knew something was wrong. Quickly, he headed back, his footsteps heavy. âWhat?â He asked as soon as he got to where I was standing. âYour Mom. She'sâŚâ I stuttered, lowering my gaze. He snatched my jaw, forcing me to look into his eyes. âShe's what?!â He retorted. I gulped, unable to just blurt it out to his face. His grasp tightened, the pressure sinking deep into my bones. I winced, trying to plead, but I didn't have control over my own mouth. I felt something sting under my flesh as his fingers penetrated further. I could tell if he squeezed with a little more pressure, something would crack. Yet his eyes held no sympathy. They were a blazing fire. He shoved me aside with so much force, throwing me to the ground before storming into the room. I pulled myself together and returned to the room. Ethan kneeled beside his mother, his eyes shining with doubt as he cupped her face tenderly. âMom.â He raised his gaze to look at me. For a split second, his eyes darted to the cup on the coffee stool. âWho served her tea?â He mouthed, his expression twitching. He sounded as if he could shred me into pieces at the moment if I made a wrong move. My eyes widened. âEthan, I swear, I did nothing to her tea.â âListen, Mika, I'm going to ask you once more. Who served her tea?â My eyes widened as I fought to pull myself together. âAnswer me! Who served her evening tea today?!â He raised his voice, his eyes gleaming with pure rage. âMe.â I whispered under my breath. His eyes scanned my face for a while as if he was searching for something. As if he wanted to believe me but couldn't. âYou murdered her.â My dear husband accused me. âAnd I will make the world see the true colors of the monster you are.âChapter SevenMikaela:I heard a soft knock, then checked through the peephole. It was Samuel, Ethanâs personal driver for years. Trusted. Quiet.I opened the door just slightly.He held a first-aid box, a food pack, and a black bag. âBoss said to bring this and wait.ââWait?â I raised a brow.âIn case you need to leave,â he continued. âHe booked a safer hotel on the outskirts. No cameras. Third floor. Cash paid. Clean.âI nodded and opened the door fully.He walked in quietly, set the bags on the table, and walked back outside.I cleaned the wound on my shoulder, biting into a towel to stop from screaming. Samantha didnât wake up. She was exhausted.I changed into fresh clothes I found at the motel closet. A black long-sleeve and jeans. Light, easy to move in. Then I opened the food pack and ate. Slowly. Every bite felt like I was chewing stone, but I needed strength.Ethan called again. âYouâre moving to the new hotel. Samuel knows the way.ââI canât risk switching rooms yet. I need
Chapter SixMikaela:The womanâs voice was low, but commanding. She wasnât yelling, which meant she had done this before. She wasnât afraid. She was cold. Calculated. And just below.My hands gripped the edges of the vent but I fell back down inside. I fucking failed. I pulled myself together quickly, my back pressed against the wall just under the vent. I could hear the footsteps fading, orders being given. Keys. Samatnthaâs little footsteps above.If I didnât get out of here now, theyâd pin me in like a lab rat. I was either going to die or crawl through that damn vent with one arm and just rage.I reached up again. My arm trembled, but I didnât stop. I got one elbow into the frame, then the next. This time, I didnât slip. This time, I did ot give the woman a chance to pull me down. I folded my knees up tightly. By the time I got through, my shirt was shredded, but I was out. Out into the night.Samantha rushed over, trying to pull me further away from the vent.âCome on, come on,
Chapter FiveMikaela:For a full minute, I couldnât move. I couldn't even exhale. I just stared at this⌠girl, this ghost of Samantha Abrams.I buried her. I buried her. I buried her.They let me stand over a casket. Cry. Mourn. Collapse. They showed me the body and watched me crumble.What the fuck did they bury? What the fuck did I cry on?âYouâre lying,â I whispered, but I didn't even believe myself.Samanthaâs head slowly turned toward me. âNo.âThe ache in my chest broke wide open.I crawled towards her, my hands shaking.The blood from my shoulder soaked through my sleeve. My body didnât care. Pain didnât matter anymore. Not when my daughter, the one I thought I lost, was sitting in front of me, looking like what's left of Samantha. Only skeleton.I reached for her. She flinched.âDonât,â she whispered. âThey said if I talk, theyâll take my eyes.âI pulled my hands back slowly. âNo oneâs taking anything else from you ever again.âA sound echoed from the corridor. Fast footsteps,
Chapter FourMikaela:I didnât just scream. I tore instead. I couldn't take this anymore. I was tired of proving tough and unbreakable.And their mission was to break me? Well, they got it.It wasnât fear. It wasn't a weakness.It was rage. Hot, boiling, endless rage. Like a volcano erupted in my chest, struggling to burst out.The kind of volcano you donât cry through. The kind that makes your skin itch to be peeled off. The kind that comes when everything you ever trusted flips on you like a fucking backstabber in a mask.I trusted the detective. Now who else was left to betray me? Ethan?I just knew there were still loyal people out there but the Blacks always made sure to either get me to meet the evil ones or they'd bribe the good ones to get on their side. Or maybe threaten them.I screamed until the sound of it didnât even sound like it belonged to me anymore. It didn't sound like it was coming out of my throat anymore.I stopped.Not because I was calm.But because my chest hu
Chapter ThreeMikaela:I stared at the screen long after it went black. Kevin.Bloody. Beaten. Chained. Alive.He was supposed to be in jail. Or maybe that was jail?And he said not to trust the one person I had given everything to. The one person who had promised to protect my daughter.The detective.I staggered back, my legs hitting the chair behind me. I didnât sit. I couldnât. My mind was spiraling too fast for my body to catch up.This couldnât be real. No. It had to be a manipulation tactic. A lie. A trick to make me panic. Right?Right?!!But there was something in Kevinâs voice. Something I recognized.That wasnât a setup. That was a man who had nothing left but the truth. A man who had been forced to watch everything we were doing from jail.And that scared me more than anything else.The door opened behind me and I turned around immediately, eyes blazing.It wasnât the man from earlier.It was a boy.Young. Probably not older than fifteen. He had shaky hands. His eyes were
Chapter TwoMikaela:The car came to a halt in the middle of what felt like nowhere. I could hear the crickets screaming. There were no lights. No buildings. Just trees, cold air, and the sound of my heart threatening to break through my chest.The driver got out. Walked around. Yanked the door open. Still no words. He tied a blindfold around my face, tight enough to remind me who was in charge. Then I felt the cold steel of a gun press against my back."Walk."I walked.Leaves crunched beneath my feet. The ground was uneven. Sloped. A door creaked open somewhere in the distance. Then more silence. Then a hand on my shoulder, pushing me down a set of stairs.Underground.Basement.I was being buried alive in advance.A single room. Concrete walls. Metal chair. Camera in the corner.And him.He wasnât masked. He didnât need to be. Power made people bold.Gray hair. Scar on his left cheek. He smiled like I was his favorite thing to watch."Youâve grown up well," he said.I didnât speak.
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