เข้าสู่ระบบShe gave him her kidney. He betrayed her. Nadine thought she was Christain ’s devoted wife until she learned the ugly truth: she was nothing more than his hidden concubine. Now discarded for his glamorous wife, Sofia , Nadine refuses to disappear quietly. Teaming up with Zain, Christain ’s ruthless, estranged brother, she signs a contract marriage to bring them both down. But revenge has a dangerous heartbeat… and Nadine never expected to fall for the man who was supposed to be her partner in vengeance.
ดูเพิ่มเติมOLAMIDE
I huddled in a dumpster surrounded by a crusty rotten smell and shaken with fear, my breath coming in quiet. As the sound of heavy boots thudded platters of water, I desperately held my breath.
I closed my eyes, trying desperately to shut out the sight of the man choking on his own blood as his throat was slit, The image of a man-wolf throwing the lifeless body into the rails. I vividly remembered his blood red irises when he heard me scream in fear. I lacked the brazen front to even pick the spray from my bag. I doubted it would work because whatever I saw was not human. I had dropped my purse and fled for my dear life but something told me it was not enough. He was following me and with the way the night was going I might end up just like the man, another corpse if his body was found.
The footsteps suddenly stopped and I dared to peep but he wasn't within sight. I could still hear this heavy breath. It was all over the place but it implied he was dangerously close. My stomach twisted just knowing I was right. As if the cruel truth wasn't enough, the scent of rich cologne hit my nostrils, drowning out the smell of rotting food and crusty condoms. His breath sounded as if it were blowing right in her ear. I had to state the obvious. He was a professional, not some random street tough. Poor, desperate people didn't bother with cologne. And if they did, it wouldn't have been such an expensive brand. Something told me I had gotten myself into a dilemma much bigger than me and I almost felt the need to sob like a child. I bit back a loud sob until it rattled around and echoed so loud in my mind that I feared he'd hear it. There was a snick of a lighter and then cigarette smoke filled the air. It was as if he was trying to smoke me out, as if he knew I could not stand the stench. He took drag after drag as I watched the faint ember burn bright and die through the cracks of my metal confines.
He was toying with me
I heard the pull of a zipper, and for one sick moment thought it was his pants, but the sound that followed was the snap of a wallet being opened. My wallet!
"Olamide Armstrong." He said with a rich English accent stupidly reminding me of how everyone I met murdered my name at their first tries. Even my would-be murderer. "... 580 Maple Avenue. Mech." His voice was relaxed, casual, because murder was casual to him.
I didn't want to stereotype, but a nicely dressed Englishman with murder tendencies required no leaps of logic. This guy was a man of the underworld. It was written all over him. Letting go of the purse had been necessary to save me, but now he knew who I was and where I lived. For a moment I continued to pretend he didn't know I was in the dumpster. I tried to think about where she could run, how I could stay safe from someone who would no doubt relentlessly pursue the only witness to his crime.
"Pretty. You are black though. Too bad."
Not only was he a murderer, but he was also racist. A part of me told me my color might have saved me from being a trafficked bimbo but it did not matter. In minutes, my life would not be my own regardless of how the situation played at. I figured the best option was to make a run for it while screaming at the top of my lungs for help. If only I had the doggedness to even move.
He let out a heavy sigh. "All right, come out. If you make me come get you, I will make sure you beg me to kill you."
That was it! I had held it together for as long as I could, been quiet as long as she could manage.
"Please, just let me go," I begged, shivering, and mentally praying for any omnipotent being to come to my aid. But alas, the truth was bitter and the mister stalking me dropped it without emotion.
"Sorry, I can't do that. You have got too much information in that head."
"No...I don't know anything. I don't know what you are. I don't care. I won't get involved. I swear to God. Just let me live, please. Whatever happened there, it is none of my business. I don't care about it." And I was telling the truth. Even if I had to live with the guilt of keeping the truth from someone out there. All I wanted right now was to be safe at home, in the bed with Zeus.
"What I am?" He wondered aloud. I did not answer. I was sure it was not even a question. He remained silent, puffing on the last embers of his cigarette like he was considering bargaining.
"Nah, "He finally said. "I think I'll just kill you."
Although he had made a vague reference to torturing me first if I did not come to him, I could not bring myself to move. My whole system had collapsed. How could a person step outside their less than likely safe space, knowing a monster was waiting on the other side to gobble you up?
Before I could notice, the lid of the dumpster flew back making me scream for help. More than ever I wanted a savior despite knowing no one would come to my aid even if they heard me. I had heard others scream before and I had ignored it to keep myself safe. Maybe this was karma.
I looked up at the man as he aimed his gun at my head. "Shut up! You wanna be responsible for someone else's death, too? I can shoot witnesses all night."
Oh God, I whimpered. Where were the ancestors that grandpa wouldn't shut up about? Where were they when their daughter needed help?
No one would reach me before he pulled the trigger. The only option was to reach out to his humanity. It was the only thing I could think of "Please don't hurt me. I swear I don't care what happened back there. I just want to go home."
"Just shut it! You are going to die and nothing is changing that. Just suck it up and pray someone finds your body quickly so you can at least have a decent funeral." He took a step to the side, lining up his shot as moonlight from the opposite wall hit me in the face. Instead of pulling the trigger, he just stared.
No, He froze. Almost like his body was not his for a moment. I considered running but what if it was his game plan? What if he wanted the chase? I wasn't even sure my legs could sustain me. All I could do was watch him slowly regain composure.
Almost immediately, his phone rang. I heard him curse as he picked up the call from the behinds of his jean pocket and hit a button.
"I've told you to never look through my eyes." He said to the phone, keeping his gun too close to my head and I could tell he would gun me down if I did anything stupid. Like before, he went through another awkward pause before he cut the phone. I expected to be in my final moments the moment the call ended but instead of pulling the trigger, he just said, "If you wish to live, get out there right now."
Despite the warnings shouting through my brain, I hoisted myself over the piles of trash and clumsily climbed out of the dumpster. I was sure that it would never end well but I was willing to hold on to any tiny fragments of hope I could manage to survive the night if I complied with his demands.
He gave a loud sigh before smiling at me. "You may as well be the luckiest victim that has crossed my path." Then he karate chopped the side of my neck and the entire world shrank to a tiny pinpoint of light, then blinked out of existence.
‘A billionaire's wife bashed his house due to jealousy!’That was a trending headline that people were picking up like hot cake. In my naivety, I thought that public opinion would sway in my direction. But oh boy was I very wrong. The support wasn't even split down the middle, with some people on my side and others on my husbands. No, everyone was after me like hungry wolves. Each of them aching to get a piece of my flesh. I scrolled hundreds of comments curled up in my old bedroom, under my parents' roof. I hadn't told them about the divorce. In fact, I'm not sure what excuse I mumbled when I came here two nights ago, but they reluctantly let me through the door, and I've been staying here ever since. “Nadine !” The harsh call of my name all the way from the lower floor told me that my stay might have reached its end. I turned off my phone, and threw off my duvet. With hastened steps, I rushed to meet my parents in the living room where they were
David, no, Christian, was seated beside Sofia . He looked up when he saw me. For a second, I thought I saw regret. Then I realized it was what it was. Fear of inconvenience. Like I was a problem he needed to deal with, not a person.Sofia kept staring at the television. As though this were any other night. As though nothing mattered."Here," Christain said, holding out a manila folder. "We thought it would be easier this way. No lawyers. No dragging out the inevitable. Just sign."He held out a pen as though doing me a courtesy.I did not move. I looked at the folder. Then at the check in his other hand."Twenty million," he said, as though that kind of money meant anything anymore. "Tax-free. It's already done. All you have to do is sign the papers and take it."I didn't say a word.He waved the folder again. "Nadine . Let's not make this harder than it has to be."My fingers clenched on the envelope I was holding. I took a step forward. One more step. Close enough to see the faint
I leaned in the hall, my body propped against the wall, the cold of the plaster holding me fast, keeping me from breaking.Sofia 's heels were clicking behind me on the wooden floor. I prayed she'd drop it. Returned to her wine and was satisfied with silence. But she followed after me instead."Nadine ," she whispered. "Wait."I faced her, my eyes afire. "What now?"She spread her hands up like I was some sort of wild animal she didn't wish to frighten. "I just wanted to say something before you go do something… dramatic."I chuckled bitterly. "You mean cry? Scream? Or perhaps punch you in the face?"She disregarded that. "We're making you an offer."I flinched. "Making me an offer?""Yes," she said, drawing closer. David and I, we talked. We're willing to compensate you."I stared at her, stunned. "Pay me? For what? My silence?""For everything," she said. "For your time." Your help. Your kidney."Silence fell around us for a moment. My heart dropped."What did you just say?"Sofia
“Hey Kris.”She looked up at me, smiling like this was just another Thursday. Hair curled, legs crossed, wearing one of those blazers that said I’m important but relaxed. She held a glass of wine, nails painted pale pink, soft, perfect, smug.I blinked, trying to catch up.“What’s this?” I asked, chuckling, confused. “When did Sofia become a surprise guest to me?”My eyes flicked to Christian, my husband, standing next to her like a statue. He wasn’t smiling. No sheepish grin. No nervous twitches. No wink to say go with it, babe. Just… still. Like he’d already left the room hours ago and forgot to take his body with him.“I’m serious,” I said, half-laughing now. “What’s going on?”Christain took a breath, then sat down across from me like this was some calm, adult conversation. Like we were about to go over the tax returns together. “You should sit too.”That’s when my chest tightened.“Why?” I asked, still standing. Still holding the damp kitchen towel I’d been using to wipe down t
“Everything is going to be fine,” I mumbled. “Everything is going to be just fine.”I sat at the edge of the exam table draped with paper, the crinkle beneath me echoing in the quiet room. My feet dangled like a child's. My arms rested flat on the table for balance, but in part because I was trying






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