LOGINShare
Fault lines
Last Updated:
2025-12-24 10:26:00The silence between Soren and his father had finally learned how to breathe. At least it isn't as intense as it was before.
It lived in pauses now.
In glances that lingered too long.
In words that were chosen carefully—or not spoken at all.
Days had passed since the confrontation, yet the air between them still felt bruised.
Soren became more aware of it the moment he stepped into the open courtyard.
His parents were already seated, cups of tea cooling in their hands, but nothing about the scene felt casual. His father’s gaze remained fixed ahead, not at the sky, not at the garden—just somewhere distant, as though thought itself had weight.
Soren didn’t announce himself.
He didn’t need to.
His presence shifted the space immediately.
But peace, Soren knew, was an illusion.
He approached them slowly, hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers, his expression calm but guarded.
Latest chapter
I was more than pretty Fault lines
The silence between Soren and his father had finally learned how to breathe. At least it isn't as intense as it was before.It lived in pauses now.In glances that lingered too long.In words that were chosen carefully—or not spoken at all.Days had passed since the confrontation, yet the air between them still felt bruised.Soren became more aware of it the moment he stepped into the open courtyard.His parents were already seated, cups of tea cooling in their hands, but nothing about the scene felt casual. His father’s gaze remained fixed ahead, not at the sky, not at the garden—just somewhere distant, as though thought itself had weight.Soren didn’t announce himself.He didn’t need to.His presence shifted the space immediately.But peace, Soren knew, was an illusion.He approached them slowly, hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers, his expression calm but guarded.
I was more than pretty A House That Devoured Her
Julian’s family house had once looked like a palace to Serena.Back then, the iron gates had felt grand rather than confining, the kind of entrance that promised security and permanence. The marble floors had shone like proof that she had arrived somewhere important. The chandeliers had glimmered above her like blessings, catching the light and scattering it in ways that made everything feel expensive and untouchable.Now, the same house felt like a cage that had finally closed.The gates did not guard her anymore—they trapped her.The marble floors no longer gleamed with beauty; they reflected her exhaustion.The chandeliers did not sparkle—they watched, cold and unfeeling, as though they bore silent witness to her slow undoing.Nothing in that house belonged to her.Not even the air felt hers to breathe freely.Serena no longer slept in a bedroom.That right had been stripped from her without explanation, without ceremony, as though she no longer deserved space. She was moved to a n
I was more than pretty Another episode of Eve VS colleagues show!
Indeed, gossip was the true powerhouse of an office. I could always rely on it to keep me both entertained and utterly mortified at the same time. Today, however, it seemed to have reached a fever pitch, one that could easily topple a whole office if unchecked.His woman? Me? The phrase alone made the whispers flutter like startled birds, and the moment I walked past my colleagues to the the water cooler, it felt as if the entire office had been waiting for the best moment to explode. So here we go again. Get ready for another episode of Eve Vs her colleagues show! It just never gets old!The gossip boomed, louder than the printers, more persistent than the fluorescent lights buzzing above us, more invasive than the unsolicited opinions of the interns. It was relentless. Every glance that flicked toward me carried a small charge, and every muttered word seemed to hang in the air just long enough for me to catch it without wanting to.&l
I was more than pretty Collision with Miss perfect
It had been two weeks since Soren had confronted his parents, and though no words had passed since that morning, the air in the Bellandi mansion still vibrated with the remnants of tension.Every glance between father and son carried weight, subtle yet undeniable. A simple tilt of the head, a narrowing of the eyes, or the barely perceptible stiffening of shoulders—it was as if the room itself remembered the storm and refused to forget. Yet, outwardly, everything seemed normal. Meals were served, conversations flowed, and the polished veneers of civility remained intact. But anyone sensitive enough, anyone who looked past the surface, could see the silent currents of unease that ran through every corner of the house.Soren moved with his usual quiet authority, yet there was a restraint now, a careful watch over every word, every gesture, every step. The man who had once acted with effortless command, now navigated his surroundings like a tightrope wa
I was more than pretty Two hearts, two souls
Meanwhile, while Soren was still facing the weight of his parents, Eve was lost in her own thoughts one quiet afternoon.She stood by the window of her room, fingers tracing the cool glass, eyes fixed on the sky above. Clouds drifted lazily across the horizon, pale and fragile, yet persistent. She let herself sink into the memory of everything that had brought her to this point—the battles, the pain, the moments of quiet triumph that no one else would ever see.Her mind wandered back to Serena, Julian, his father and more importantly, his mother. Mrs. Vale, the woman who had shaped her early years in the past with a cold hand. Every command, every insult, every manipulation had been a test of endurance. Eve had been forced to bend, to become a tool in someone else’s ambition, yet somewhere within that furnace of control, a spark of resilience had survived.She had been molded by cruelty, yes, but she had learned to move with purpose, to survive, to play the games set for her. The chai
I was more than pretty A table set for conflict
The next day arrived quietly at the Bellandi mansion, slipping in without ceremony, as though nothing had changed. Morning light filtered through tall windows, brushing against heavy curtains, pretending peace still lived within those walls—even when everything beneath it had shifted.For Soren, the night had barely ended.Soren lay awake long before the house stirred.This was not his home. Not really.The last time he had woken beneath a roof that truly felt his own, was some days ago. That was when he had told Evelyn that the next phase of their plan was just starting. He remembered telling her that their next plan would begin soon. That things would change. That patience, for now, was everything.Now, patience was the only thing he seemed to be drowning in.He stared at the ceiling, hands folded behind his head, thoughts circling endlessly. Being back in his family's mansion felt like stepping into an old role he had already outgrown. Here, he was not the man who made decisions wi
