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The Breaking Point
Petsa ng paglalathala:
2026-10-13 18:40:16
Pinakabagong kabanata
His beautiful enemy The Breaking Point
The first date with Liam was perfect in every way a first date should be. He took me to a small Italian restaurant on the edge of town, a cozy place with checkered tablecloths and candles flickering on every table. The smell of garlic and fresh basil filled the air, and the owner, a round woman with kind eyes, greeted Liam by name."You must be special," she said to me, winking. "He has never brought a girl here before."Liam blushed, something I had never seen a football player do. He ordered for both of us, fettuccine alfredo for me, lasagna for him, and we shared a piece of tiramisu for dessert."You look beautiful tonight," he said, his brown eyes soft in the candlelight.I had worn a simple navy blue dress, one of the few nice things I owned, and my hair was down, falling in waves around my shoulders. I felt seen. I felt wanted."Thank you," I whispered.He reached across the table and took my hand. His touch was warm, steady, safe. "I have wanted to do this for a long time, Ashl
His beautiful enemy The Winning Piece
The email arrived on a Tuesday morning while I was eating a bowl of cereal at the kitchen counter, my mom rushing around in her waitress uniform, her hair still wet from the shower."Ashley, you are going to be late," she said, grabbing her keys.I barely heard her. My eyes were fixed on the screen of my phone, my spoon frozen halfway to my mouth.Dear Miss Monroe,We are pleased to inform you that your piece "Unbroken" has been selected to represent Ridgeview High in the Annual Tri-County Art Competition.My heart stopped."Mom," I whispered."What, baby?""Mom." I looked up, tears already streaming down my face. "I got in. The art competition. They chose my painting."Her keys clattered to the floor. She crossed the room in three steps and pulled me into her arms, her scent of cheap coffee and lavender lotion filling my senses. "Oh, baby. Oh, my sweet girl."We stood there, crying and laughing, the morning sun streaming through our faded curtains. For a moment, our tiny, broken hous
His beautiful enemy Unleashed
The game was the biggest of the season. Ridgeview versus Westbrook, the undefeated rivals who had crushed our team last year. The stadium was packed, the air thick with the smell of popcorn and hot dogs and the electric buzz of anticipation. Jess and I sat in the stands with Marcus, who was benched due to a minor ankle injury, his crutches propped beside him.Marcel looked intense during warmups. His black jersey clung to his shoulders, his helmet tucked under his arm. His jaw was set, his gray eyes burning with a fire I had not seen before. He looked like a man on the edge.Liam jogged over to him, clapping him on the back. Marcel did not respond. He just stared at the Westbrook captain, a cocky linebacker named Dylan, who was strutting across the field like he owned it.The game started, and from the first snap, it was brutal. Marcel was a machine, throwing touchdown after touchdown, his arm a cannon, his precision deadly. But it was not enough. Westbrook matched them point for poin
His beautiful enemy The Cold Shoulder
Tiffany's words hung in the air like poison. I turned slowly, my fists clenched at my sides. She stood with her clique, all perfect hair and cruel smiles, their designer bags clutched like weapons."Say that again," I said, my voice low.Tiffany stepped forward, her heels clicking against the linoleum. "You heard me. Marcel does not want you. He never did. You were just a distraction. A little rebellion before he came back to where he belongs."My hand moved before I could think. But someone caught my wrist.Jess. Her red curls were wild, her green eyes blazing. "Do not," she whispered. "She is not worth it."Marcus appeared beside her, his broad shoulders blocking Tiffany from view. "Walk away, Tiffany," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Now."Tiffany laughed, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. She was not used to being challenged. She was not used to people standing up for me."This is not over," she hissed, before turning and strutting down the hallway, her minion
His beautiful enemy The Ride Home
The parking lot was nearly empty. The last few stragglers from the party had stumbled to their cars, laughing and shouting, oblivious to the tension crackling between me and the boy in the black leather jacket. He had not said a word since he grabbed my wrist and dragged me away from Liam, away from Tiffany, away from the circus of phone cameras and whispered insults.The leather seat was cold against my bare legs. The dress Jess picked out for me, emerald green and hugging every curve, suddenly felt like a poor choice. Too revealing. Too vulnerable. I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to disappear.Marcel started the engine. The car purred to life, a low, dangerous sound. He did not look at me. His jaw was tight, his gray eyes fixed on the road ahead."Seatbelt," he said. It was not a request.I clicked the belt into place, my fingers fumbling. The silence was suffocating. Outside, the streets of Ridgeview blurred past, manicured lawns and gleaming mailboxes, houses that cost mor
His beautiful enemy The party and the plunge
Jess said the party would be a chance to ‘rebrand my image.’ She failed to mention I’d be doing it in a house owned by Marcel Vance, at a party he was hosting, with him watching my every move.“You’re going,” Jess declared, throwing a dress at my face. It was the night of the Fall Ball after-party, and the venue was, of course, Marcel’s house. The Fall Ball itself had been a blur of awkward mingling and my attempt to avoid both Liam’s hopeful gaze and Marcel’s predatory stares. I’d successfully dodged both, but my social exile was taking its toll.“I can’t,” I groaned, pulling the fabric from my face. “His house, Jess? That’s enemy territory.”“Exactly,” she said, her eyes gleaming. “You can’t let them win. You show up, you look hot, you have a good time. You prove you’re not scared of him or his little followers. This is a strategic move, Ashley. It’s about power.”The dress was a deep emerald green, a simple, elegant slip that hugged my curves but wasn’t trashy. It was bold. It was
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