ログインLily Vance should be dead. Just on her wedding day, Lily finds out about her husband’s affair with her stepfather in the most bizarre way: receiving multiple videos of them having sex. After confronting them, they try to kill her and she’s forced to run for her life, and in the end she still got killed. After being framed publicly with embezzlement by her husband and stepfather who proceed to steal her mother’s company, she loses everything, even in death which she miraculously survives. To survive her monsters and get her revenge, Lily needs a monster of her own, so she signs a contract marriage with a mysterious billionaire and her ex-husband’s half-brother and the banished black sheep: Diego Rookwood. But as the dangerous proximity blurs the lines of their arrangement, Lily must face the tension that comes with being married to a tyrant so dangerous and sinfully handsome. A fake marriage. A fervent thirst for revenge…and a vortex of lust, anger and romance. What will Lily choose? Come and find out!
もっと見るLily’s POV.
I begged the ground to swallow me at the sight of what played on my phone.
What the heck was this? My heart raced as it felt like the room was closing in on me. My heart pounded too fast, air diffused in and out of my lungs too fast, my pulse raced too high.
My chest rose and fall as I began to hyperventilate. Soon, I unlaced my wedding dress with a frantic hurry, loosening each one so I could breathe well.
It was my wedding day. It was supposed to be my wedding day. Frank and I were finally getting married after so much convincing it took for both our families who were business rivals. Frank finally telling me his father approved of our union was the best day of my life.
And today…today I was supposed to be happy.
I was supposed to be dressed in the most finest wedding outfit and the most expensive and rarest jewelry, not suffering a panic attack just a few minutes before my wedding.
And yet, here I stood in the middle of the room and everything I desired, watching a video of my husband, bending over the table while my father fucked him without mercy.
I was losing my mind.
My heartbeat spiked as another video came into my phone from the same anonymous sender.
My thumb hovered over the screen, wondering if I should tap it and watch another of my father’s sexcapade with my own mate.
I tapped the video, and another video played.
But this was different. A video of swimming in a lake, and suddenly Dad appeared from behind, trailing kissing and pulling him closer. Frank turned to him in that video, caressing his stubble with a sheepish smile, and then he kissed him back. Hot, wet kisses that left horrid sounds played from my phone’s speaker. Dad looked every bit as happy, even happier than when he was with mother.
Envy and hatred burned in my veins. Anger rocked through my body.
Frank never touched me like that; never kissed me like that; never even made me feel half of whatever he made my own father felt.
Father never looked at me with half of that happiness.
“I’m saving the best for when we finally get married,” he’d say, and me—foolish me—would blush like a little idiot wheneve he said that.
Little did I know what he was doing behind.
The video didn’t last too long, but it ended with Frank swimming out of the lake with my father. He laid down on the grass, scissoring with my father, then the most disgusting whimper escaped their lips simultaneously; then the video ended.
Disgust wasn’t enough to describe what I felt.
At the end of the video, something caught my attention.
A little wooden cabin with a red roof.
Suddenly, realization hit me square in the face.
The cabin. My cabin.
Wisteria Gardens. It was a little garden with a cabin far away from the city and it was my comfort place.
It was the birthday gift mother gave me, and the last, just before her death.
I gave Frank the key to the cabin as a gift and a token of love. It was sacred. Or, so I thought.
At this point, tears began to roll down my cheeks endlessly. I didn’t know what to feel. Or what to think. How could he?!
How could he callously betray me? With my own father? The same man who never gave a fuck about my existence? The same man— whom he knew never cared about how I lived my life?
Seated near my dresser, my arms angrily cleared the table of everything, sweeping all my expensive glassware skincare products and jewelries in one angry move.
How could he?!
A scream tore from my chest in anger.
A knock came from my door. “Miss Lily.” It was my secretary. “Is everything okay in there?!”
I forced myself to calm down and recover my mind. I tried to be calm and not let myself be vulnerable to them, but I failed.
I was surrounded by predators. My whole life, everyone around me has either wanted to kill me or take everything I inherited from my mother. For some, it’s both.
I couldn’t afford to let them see through me or sense my pain.
My heart began to beat rapidly, my breath escaping my lips in short bursts. My panic attack was setting in.
“I’m fine, Clara,” I managed to say as I forced myself to calm down. “Ready…a car.”
“Why, Miss? Your wedding is only a few hours away!”
I ignored her, closing my eyes, picturing a wisteria flower as mother taught me.
Frank kept appearing in my mind.
A wisteria flower.
Frank and father.
A Wisteria flower.
Frank kissing father in Wisteria Garden.
“Just fucking do it!”
I forced my eyes to stay open, scanning the room that felt like it was closing in on me. I needed to get out of here.
“The car’s ready, ma’am,” Clara shouted from the door.
Perfect.
I hurried out of my room, stumbling across everything and anything on the way but I didn’t care. My phone was tightly held in my hand; I couldn’t let it go.
I yanked the car key from her hand. I wasn’t thinking straight. I couldn’t.
“Which hotel is Frank in again?” I asked as I barged out of the hallway. I didn’t care if anyone called me crazy, because it’s true.
“Moon’s Glimmer,” she responded, struggling to keep up with my pace. “Do you need me to—”
I didn’t let her finish, hopping into the car. His hotel was a several minutes drive away from where I was.
I stepped on the gas furiously, overtaking cars that moved sluggishly on the road.
Wishes of me finally handing my mother’s company over to Frank while I taught little children how to paint a flower faded into a hazy blur at the back of my mind.
I broke every traffic rule in place as I raced down the road, finally coming to a rough halt as I pulled up in the driveway.
I needed Frank to tell me it’s fake.
I needed him to disprove everything and tell me it’s all a lie. That it was all somehow fabricated. That even the cabin—my cabin—was edited into the videos.
I barged into his hotel room without thinking, finding him shirtless, save for the towel tied around his waist.
He looked happy to see me. If I hadn’t seen that video, I would’ve believed he genuinely was.
“Hey babe.”
“Frank,” I managed to say, my voice breaking into a whisper as I waved my phone in his face. “What’s this?!”
His face contorted into something dark as he saw the video playing on my phone.
Just then, the bathroom door opened and I cursed the day I took my first sight.
My father stepped out of the bathroom, astonished at the sight of me in the middle of the bedroom.
“Well,” Frank stated coldly. “Now you know.”
My heart sank.
Lily’s POV.The silence inside the cabin grew cold and into something suffocating.It felt my throat closing in, my lungs squeezing, but I held it in. I shut my eyes, doing my breathing exercises slowly as I calmed myself. One, two, I thought, I’m not alone.Three four, Diego’s here.Five, six…When I opened my eyes, the dense pines outside stood like sentinels under the pale moonlight, but the shadows beneath them had changed. They weren't swaying with the breeze anymore.Something’s wrong.Diego didn't make a sound. He slipped off the sofa with precision, his hand gripping the cold steel of his sidearm as he crouched low beside the stone hearth. His eyes locked onto mine, signaling with a single, sharp tilt of his head toward the door leading to the back bedroom corridor.Stay back.I didn't move away. I couldn’t.Instead, my heart hammering like a trapped bird against my ribs, I slid off the opposite side of the sofa, keeping low against the rustic floorboards. I was wearing Lol
Lily’s POVThe helicopter touched down on the pad just beyond the valley ridge with a gentle sigh, the blades slowing their rotation until they were nothing more than a lazy, rhythmic blur against the fading light of late evening.Stepping out onto the pine-scented gravel, the noise of NYC felt like it was a lifetime away.The resort hadn't changed at all in five years. It still lived in the contours of the valley, the building beautifully small and preserved and entirely too artistic, almost like it had been lifted from out of a Tolkien painting, stone pathways winding through alpine gardens, the cottage smoking softly against the chill, and the low rushing river cutting through the river below.By the time we checked into the resort, the sun was painting the sky in shades of violet and gold.We walked hand-in-hand down the stone path toward the orchards and the riverbank where we had spent our very first awkward moment years ago. It felt fresh in my mind, Diego’s arms around my bod
Lily’s POVThe green room at Prime Hour Media smelled strangely familiar—I’d spent years of my marriage facing the entirety of New York from these halls after all, but it also smelled fresh and welcoming and so different. The subtle tang of hairspray coated my lungs, despite the makeup artist leaving us a few minutes earlier.I stood before the floor-to-ceiling studio mirror, my fingers smoothing the lapel of my navy blazer that caught the amber mirror lights. Beneath it, a cream blouse framed my collarbones, reminding me of the high-contrast outfits I wore when Diego and I were still navigating the tightrope of public scrutiny, constantly being under fire or fear of the unknown.Only today, the atmosphere was entirely different. Five years ago, sitting in this exact green room, my palms used to damp with cold sweat. Back then, every interview felt like an audition—a high-stakes performance where a stray micro-expression, a delayed glance, or a stiff posture could trigger a panic or
Diego’s POVThe silence of Wisteria Gardens after midnight was a very different kind of quiet than the heavy, suffocating stillness of the Adirondack safehouse.Here, the silence breathed. It carried the faint, distant rustle of the autumn wind through the ancient oaks lining the perimeter, the steady, rhythmic hum of the manor’s central heating, and nothing else. No crunch of gravel under uninvited tires. No distant sirens or comms alarms chiming in the dark. Just peace.I stood in the dim, amber-lit hallway outside Leo’s bedroom, leaning my shoulder against the crown-molded doorframe. The door was cracked an inch wide, allowing a warm wedge of yellow light to spill across the hardwood floor.Inside, Lily was sitting on the edge of Leo’s low wooden bed.She had traded her jackets and sharp blazers for an oversized, cream-colored cashmere sweater that swallowed her hands, her dark hair falling in soft, loose waves over her shoulders. She looked smaller like this—not the iron-willed






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