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Cruel surprise
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2025-08-17 03:26:50
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I was more than pretty Defiance in broad day
The days that followed our evening together felt almost dreamlike in their simplicity, as though life had softened its edges just for me. Every call from Soren carried warmth that lingered long after the line went silent.Every laugh we shared—easy, unforced—settled deep in my chest. Every stolen glance across a crowded room held a gravity I had never known before. It wasn’t infatuation. It wasn’t comfort. It was love—raw, steady, consuming. Love I had never felt from a man before.It wrapped itself around my days quietly, slipping into moments I didn’t expect. I would be doing something ordinary—replying emails, stirring tea, folding laundry—and suddenly I’d smile for no reason at all, my heart remembering the way his voice sounded when he said my name.Soren had changed too, in ways so subtle they might have gone unnoticed by anyone who didn’t know him well. But George noticed. His parents notic
I was more than pretty First Evening Together
The drive home felt impossibly long, yet impossibly short, as if time itself was unsure how to handle the two of us.The city blurred past like streaks of memory, the sound of the tires against the asphalt a soft sound in the background.I had been driven by Soren before, yes, during the Gala incident, but back then everything had been tense, charged with a mixture of scandal and shame. Now, it was different. Now, I was his. Officially.I couldn’t help sneaking glances at him every few minutes, as subtle as I could manage. His profile, sharp yet softened by the faint light spilling through the windshield, made my heart flutter in ways I hadn’t thought possible.His fingers, long and perfectly aligned, still held mine with that quiet possessiveness that always made me feel… anchored, safe, desired.I had cried for hours earlier in the day. But now, I had regained control of myself. No tears, no trembling, no suffocat
I was more than pretty More than enough
The office had quieted in a way that felt almost surreal after the storm of emotions that had just passed. I was still pressed against Soren’s chest, my tears soaked into his crisp shirt, my body trembling from the release of hours of pent-up fear, doubt, and longing.He held me there, and in that silence, I realized how safe I felt. Safe in a way that I hadn’t felt in years—since Julian’s betrayal, since the nights filled with confusion and heartbreak, since the moments where I thought love was nothing but a cruel trick.Soren’s hand slid slowly up again to cradle the back of my head, his thumb brushing along my temple as if to soothe not just my body, but every scar I carried inside.“Eve,” he murmured, voice low, intimate, and utterly grounding. “Please look at me.”I lifted my tear-streaked face slowly, still unsure, still hesitant, and our eyes met. The intensity
I was more than pretty The Day I Chose Him
I woke up the next morning with a strange stillness inside me.It wasn’t peace.It wasn’t certainty either.It was resolve.The kind that settles quietly after a long war, when your heart is tired of running in circles and your mind finally whispers, enough. I lay on my bed for a long moment, staring at the ceiling, again. The cracks there seemed more familiar than usual, like old companions who had witnessed too many of my sleepless nights. Outside my window, the city was waking up slowly—car horns in the distance, a vendor calling out, the faint hum of life continuing whether I was ready or not.My chest felt tight. Too tight. Like something fragile was being held together by sheer will. But beneath that tightness was something else—steady, unyielding. Something that refused to be shaken no matter how hard fear tried to claw its way back in.I knew what I had to do.The knowing didn’t arri
I was more than pretty When silence learned to speak
While Serena battled her own new world of cruelty and loss, Eve was fighting a quieter war—one that lived in her chest, one that wore the face of restraint and fear, and carried the name Soren.⚜️━━━⚜️━━━⚜️The office had not changed.The halls were still polished, the air still perfumed with ambition and routine. Files moved. Meetings happened. People laughed, whispered, worked.Yet for me, everything felt different.I had become more conscious of myself.Of my steps.Of my breathing.Of the way my heart reacted before my mind had time to intervene.Every time the chairman passed through the corridor, my body seemed to sense him before my eyes did. A pause would happen without intention. A stillness I never planned. Then our gazes would meet.And time would stretch.We would look at each other for seconds that felt like minutes. No smiles. No words. No gestures bold enough to be called
I was more than pretty What the Walls Heard
The kitchen smelled of onions and oil.It was a smell Serena had come to know too well—sharp, lingering, clinging to her skin long after the fire was turned off. Her hands moved mechanically over the cutting board, slicing vegetables with practiced precision, even as her mind drifted far away from the present.The knife paused mid-air.Without warning, Eve’s voice echoed in her head.“Thank you… for taking my life.”Serena’s fingers tightened around the handle. She had heard that from Eve, not once but twice.Her chest constricted.She hadn’t thought about those words in days. Weeks, maybe. She had buried them under exhaustion, under pain, under humiliation. But now, standing alone in the kitchen, they rose up like ghosts that refused to stay buried.“Thank you for taking my life.”A strange chill crept down her spine.“What did you mean by
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