"Are you not kidding?" Travis asked, his deep voice laced with disbelief. "You want to get married... today?" Alice's eyes sparkled with mischief as she nodded enthusiastically. But little did Travis know, Alice's intentions were far from innocent. She had been reborn, given a second chance at life after a brutal murder at the hands of her stepsister, Octavia, and her former lover, Grant. With her memories intact, Alice was determined to exact revenge on those who had wronged her. And Travis, the brooding and handsome millionaire, was just the pawn she needed in her game of revenge. As Alice and Travis navigate their whirlwind engagement, secrets and lies begin to unravel. Octavia and Grant are still lurking in the shadows, waiting for their next victim. But Alice is no longer the naive and timid girl she once was. She's been reborn, and she's ready to take back control. Will Alice's thirst for revenge consume her, or will she find love and redemption in the arms of Travis? Dive into this twisted tale of love, lies, and revenge to find out.
Lihat lebih banyakGreta leaned one manicured hand against the doorframe, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of her nose."Alice," she purred, drawing out the name as though tasting it. "Ready for lunch?"Alice stepped out, closing the door behind her. "Give me a second to lock up."Greta's eyes flicked past her shoulder. "No Travis today?" she asked, voice dipping into that silky register."He's busy," Alice said, twisting the key until it clicked."Mm." Greta's smile curved. "Still the workaholic, I see. Does he ever take a break? For you, I mean?"Alice glanced at her, expression unreadable. "We manage just fine.""Because I remember…" Greta tilted her head, lips curling as if recalling a private joke. "He used to hate letting me out of his sight."Alice smoothed her bag strap over her shoulder. "Times change."Greta's laugh was low, deliberate. "Do they?""They do," Alice said, brushing past her toward the car. "Or some people just get left behind."Greta followed, the click of her heels sharp again
"Greta?" Mason was the first to speak, half-rising from his chair with a grin that bordered on boyish. "Well, look who decided to remember we exist."Greta Sinclair removed her sunglasses with a deliberate flick, the faintest smile touching her lips. "Mason Vale. Still talking too much, I see."He laughed. "And you're still… intimidating as hell.""Charming, as always," she replied, stepping closer. Her coat fell open just enough to reveal the kind of sleek black dress that didn't need a single accessory to make a statement.Liam was already on his feet. "No way. Absolutely no way." He moved in for a hug without hesitation. "You look wow.""Fabulous," Greta supplied smoothly, allowing the embrace before leaning back. "I'm aware.""You disappear for five years-""Six," she corrected."-and come back looking like this?"Her smile didn't waver. "I take my work seriously."Christian had stood by now, waiting his turn. "You've been impossible to reach.""I've been busy," Greta said, her to
"Tell me again," Mason said, swirling his straw through the ice in his drink, "how you managed to convince Travis to take an actual lunch break."Alice smiled over the rim of her glass. "I didn't. I just told him I'd be here, and he showed up.""Manipulation at its finest," Liam said with a grin. "You're learning."Travis arched a brow at him. "Careful, Parket.""What? I'm just impressed," Liam said, lifting his hands in mock surrender. "Most of us have been trying for years to get you to join us for one of these without bailing for a meeting.""I like lunch with my wife," Travis said simply, as if that explained everything.His lips curving faintly. "You're the only one I tune in for."Alice smiled. "That's cheesy.""True," he said, eyes holding hers a moment longer than necessary. "But you smiled anyway.""Oh my God," Liam groaned, throwing his napkin on the table. "Get a room."Michael pointed his fork at them. "This is worse than Mason flirting with her.""I'm not flirting," Mason
The restaurant wasn't overly crowded, just busy enough for the low hum of conversations to feel like background music. Soft golden lighting made the polished tables glow, and the scent of roasted garlic and fresh bread drifted between them like an unspoken invitation.Travis sat across from Alice, his jacket draped over the back of his chair. He leaned forward, forearms resting on the table, watching her with the kind of attention that made her cheeks warm even though she told herself she was used to it by now."You're smiling too much," he teased, a faint smirk playing at his lips."I'm allowed to," Alice replied, cutting into her pasta. "You know, for once, I don't feel like I'm pretending."His brow softened. "You've never been good at pretending. You were just… surviving."She nodded slowly, the fork pausing mid-air. "Exactly. I used to wake up and wonder if I'd make it through the day. Now I just… wake up." Her smile widened. "And you're there."Travis reached over and brushed hi
"Octavia Willis, please.""She's coming."The guard's voice was flat, but Alice's heart skipped all the same. She sat in the cold metal chair, hands clasped in her lap, eyes fixed on the door. The walls around her were blank, white, and humming faintly from the overhead lights.Footsteps echoed in the hallway. Then the door opened.Octavia stepped inside, her movements restricted by the canvas of a straitjacket, the sleeves cinched tight across her chest. Her hair was longer than Alice remembered, but dull and uneven as if she'd cut it herself with dull scissors. Her eyes, though—her eyes were the same. Sharp. Searching. Full of something between hatred and hunger."Well," Octavia said, her voice low and steady, "look who came to visit the madwoman."Alice kept her voice calm. "I came because we need to talk."Octavia tilted her head. "Talk. After all this time. That's rich." She crossed the room with slow, deliberate steps and sat across from Alice, the straitjacket creaking faintly.
"Dirt to dirt. Ashes we shall return…"The preacher's voice rolled out over the cemetery, deep and steady, but it seemed to fade somewhere before reaching Alice. She stood beside her father, hands clasped loosely in front of her, eyes fixed on the wooden casket resting above the open grave."…for we are but dust, and to dust we shall return," he continued, the words threading into the damp air.Her father leaned slightly toward her. "Cold?""A little," she murmured.He adjusted the coat draped over her shoulders, though she hadn't noticed him put it there.The preacher closed his Bible. "Let us pray."Heads bowed. Alice's stayed lowered, but her eyes remained open, watching the toes of her shoes sink a little into the soft ground.When the prayer ended, movement began again the slow, solemn shuffle of mourners stepping forward to offer condolences.The first was Mrs. Dalrymple, a small woman in an oversized black hat. She took Alice's hand in both of hers. "My dear, I am so sorry. I
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