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The Day I Avoided a King and Survived a Queen

Author: Onyes
last update Last Updated: 2025-09-23 15:02:16
I turned myself into a ghost.

Not of spirit — of movement.

At Parsons, I mapped out my days like a fugitive. I memorized Soren Bellandi’s schedule with the precision of a thief. I knew which hallway he crossed at 8:47 a.m., which elevator he favored, how long his coffee lingered on the twenty-third floor before meetings.

And I avoided it all.

I used the service elevator that smelled of bleach and old mops. I timed my bathroom breaks like military operations. I ate lunch at my desk with the grim focus of someone defending territory.

It was absurd.

And I knew it.

I wasn’t hiding from a monster. I wasn’t dodging a tyrant. I was ducking around corners to avoid a man who had offered me money to play a part I couldn’t stomach — and I had walked away.

Yet every glimpse of his shadow sent my pulse into chaos. Every meeting announcement chilled my hands. Every quiet glance from George Valea made me wonder: Is he reporting back?

It was tragic. Comedic. A farce played out under fluorescent lights
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  • I was more than pretty   Frozen in time

    The house had been too quiet for too long.Not the comfortable quiet of an empty home waiting patiently for its owners to return. This silence was different. It clung to the walls. It pressed into the corners. It sat heavy in the air like a held breath that had gone on far too long. Days had passed since anyone had last crossed the threshold of the Vale mansion, and though the exterior still looked immaculate—gates polished, hedges trimmed, windows gleaming—the inside had begun to change.The air itself had shifted.Not enough yet to raise alarms from outside. Not enough to drift through the neighborhood or prompt curious glances. But inside the walls, beneath the layers of luxury and careful design, something foul had begun to bloom. A subtle corruption. A quiet rot that did not announce itself loudly, but waited instead for the right moment, the right witness.That moment came in the afternoon.Mrs. Vale’s close fr

  • I was more than pretty   No more chains

    By now the air in the room was thick with the metallic tang of blood, the coppery scent clinging to every surface.Julian’s parents groaned softly, the muffled sounds of their suffering echoing faintly against the cold walls. Their eyes, wide with panic and disbelief, searched for some trace of mercy—but it was too late. Serena had already stepped back, her face pale but resolute, the calm in her demeanor in stark contrast to the chaos surrounding her.“Please… please, Serena…” Julian gasped, his voice hoarse, raw with desperation.He coughed again, spitting out a trace of blood as he struggled to speak.“You… you can’t do this! Help us! Please!”Serena’s eyes, dark and unwavering, met his for a moment. She inhaled slowly, steadying herself against the tremor that threatened to crack the surface of her control. Her voice, when it came, was calm yet

  • I was more than pretty   A Seat at the End

    When Julian made his way home that day, he drove in silence, his jaw tight, his thoughts sharper than the air pressing against the glass.Eve’s face refused to leave his mind—the calm in her eyes, the way she had spoken without fear, as though she already stood several steps ahead of him. It unsettled him more than he cared to admit.He hated that she had walked away leaving him with questions, hated that her silence felt heavier than any insult she could have thrown. By the time he reached the gates of their abode, his resolve had hardened into something cold and obsessive. He would not stop. He could not stop.Inside the house, dinner had already been set. The long table gleamed beneath the chandelier, silverware aligned with precision, plates untouched and waiting.Julian loosened his tie as he entered, the echo of his footsteps announcing his presence. His parents looked up almost in unison, their expressions expectant,

  • 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

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