MasukLilian's life shattered on their third wedding anniversary when she walked in to see her husband, Chris, embracing his ex-girlfriend, whom he had promised to move on from, passionately. The injury worsened upon discovering that she was carrying his child. Chris had secretly ensured that Lilian remained on birth control because he didn't want to have a child with her, despite being ready for parenthood, a decision that devastated Lilian, who longed for a family. She was not treated as a partner but rather as a mere convenience and placeholder in his life. During an intense disagreement, Chris slapped her causing her to tumble down the stairs. The fall completely shattered her emotional and physical well-being, challenging her views on marriage, love, and trust. However, determined and steadfast, Lilian vowed to protect herself from his lies and control, ending her connection with the man who had brought her great pain. Chris returned with a strong determination to regain her love just as she was beginning to rebuild her life. He refused to let her go, expressing his realization of his deep love for her. His newfound passion for her was both confusing and infuriating. At the same time, a mysterious stranger entered her life—a man whose quiet admiration for her had endured from the shadows. He offered a love untainted by deceit, a fresh start filled with genuine respect and devotion. Now, Lilian faces an impossible choice: Does she risk her heart again on the man who shattered it, believing his promises of change and redemption?
Lihat lebih banyakLilian tapped her fingers against the cold glass of her office desk, her mind buzzing with a determination she hadn’t felt in years. “Call off all my appointments for the rest of the evening,” she instructed, her tone unyielding as she glanced at her assistant.
The assistant, wide-eyed, stammered, “But, ma’am, we have a crucial meeting with clients—this could make or break the quarter, and rescheduling won’t be possible for six months!”
Lilian’s gaze flicked away dismissively. She didn’t need reminders of the stakes; she knew them all too well. But tonight, work would take a backseat to something far more significant. Nothing mattered more than Chris, the man she’d shared three years with. They’d grown apart, no doubt, but tonight was her chance to bridge that gap. Her heart swelled at the thought of surprising him. She’d be preparing his favorite dinner—an act of love that, perhaps, would rekindle the spark she missed.
After stopping by the grocery store, Lilian headed home with bags filled with ingredients. It had been too long since she’d put her heart into cooking for Chris. In their early days, she’d tried, only to meet his silent disinterest. But tonight was different. She would take things into her own hands and prepare each dish herself. She could already imagine his surprised smile and the warmth in his eyes as they shared a rare, intimate moment.
The house was unusually quiet as she parked her car and slipped inside. She’d expected it to be empty, yet as she stepped in, something felt off. She felt her heart skip a beat upon hearing the faint sounds of people approaching from upstairs. She listened carefully, praying she was mistaken, but a familiar voice she never wanted to hear again echoed through the air, causing her heart to quicken its pace.
With a tone of affection mixed with complexity, the woman said, "Chris, I am pregnant with your child." “It’s our child... a symbol of our love.”
The air thickened, trapping Lilian in slow-motion horror as the words sank in. She didn’t need to see who was speaking to know the truth; it was Rita—Chris’s ex-girlfriend, the person Lilian thought had disappeared from their lives, still in a romantic relationship with her husband, and now had something that Lilian had desired for a long time: a child.
To control the overwhelming emotions of anger, betrayal, and despair, she clenched her fists and dug her nails into her palms. Each step up the stairs carried the weight of years filled with love, loyalty, and selflessness.
She came to a stop at the doorway, gazing at the sight that filled her with dread. Chris sat beside Rita, with his arm around her shoulders, just like Lilian had always wanted but never had. Rita had her hands resting on her tummy for protection as she laid her head on his shoulder.
Lilian felt her words rising up her throat as her chest became constricted. It made her feel lonely within her own home, akin to an outsider witnessing a hidden truth. Her voice filled with suppressed rage, she entered the room with a loud, "Chris, you got this woman pregnant?”
Chris startled, disentangling himself from Rita as his gaze darted between the two women. “Lilian, I can explain—” “Explain?”
Lilian’s voice was sharp and brittle. “What could you possibly explain that would justify this?”
Rita’s face twisted into a mockery of sympathy, and she sighed, leaning against Chris. “Lilian, I know this must be hard for you, but sometimes love doesn’t make sense. We tried to stay away, truly, but our connection is just stronger than anything.”
Lilian glared at her, unyielding. “Stronger than loyalty? Stronger than vows? You think I don’t see what’s really going on here?”
Rita gave a small shrug, her expression feigning innocence, but Lilian saw through the charade. She felt both humiliation and betrayal, believing she had been deceived and overlooked for someone less worthy. With years of suppressed anger, her hands clenched as her voice quivered.
"You took advantage of me, Chris. I prevented your company from going into bankruptcy. I agreed to all your demands, including endangering my health to take the damn pills, ultimately sacrificing my ability to have children. And now, here you are, with her, making a mockery of everything I’ve given up for you.”
Chris opened his mouth, but Rita interrupted, her hand gently stroking his arm as she looked at Lilian with a gleam of satisfaction. “Chris didn’t force you to do anything, Lilian. If you couldn’t keep him, maybe you just weren’t the right one.”
That was it. Lilian’s control snapped like a frayed wire, and she stepped forward, her hand shooting out to grab Rita’s wrist. “You think you can come here, lie, manipulate, and just take whatever you want? You’re nothing but a leech.”
Rita gasped, struggling as Lilian’s grip tightened, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she let out a high-pitched whimper, calling to Chris with a look of feigned distress. And Chris—true to his betrayal—rushed forward, prying Lilian’s hand away as he turned cold, accusing glare on her.
“Enough, Lilian,” he hissed, his face twisted in anger. “This is no way to behave.”
Lilian’s heart twisted painfully, disbelief mingling with raw despair. “You’re defending her? After everything? This is my home, Chris. You’re the one who doesn’t belong here if you think she’s more worthy of your protection than me.”
Rita’s gaze flickered with smug satisfaction, her arm slipping around Chris’s waist as she leaned into him. “Maybe he’s finally seeing things clearly.”
The casual cruelty in her voice stung, and Lilian’s vision blurred with a mixture of rage and sorrow. “How dare you? You are nothing but a parasite that thrives on what I have built from scratch. Even if you have deceived him, I will not be fooled by you.
Rita feigned a look of hurt, her eyes welling up with practiced tears, and as Chris’s hand found her shoulder in a comforting gesture, Lilian felt something snap within her.
The room was spinning, the air heavy with betrayal and bitterness as she stumbled back, needing to escape the suffocating sight before her. But her retreat was cut short. She suddenly fell to the ground after receiving a hard slap on the cheek. She stumbled dangerously near the stairs after slipping off the edge of the carpet, anxiously waving her arms to regain her balance.
As Lilian slid backward, the room tilted, her vision contracted, and her heartbeat blasted in her ears. Before she could fully register Chris's horrified expression, she felt her head slam against the edge of a stair, causing intense pain in her skull.
Her eyesight grew hazy as she fell to the ground, flooded with memories of meeting Chris for the first time, their mutual laughter, and the promises they made to each other. The realization that the man she dedicated her life to could be the reason she lost everything, even her life, tainted every memory with bitterness.
Darkness began to cloud her sight, while a sharp pain throbbed at the base of her skull. She barely heard Chris' urgent shout, barely felt his hands embrace her face, yet the comfort his touch could have brought was drowned out by the bitterness within her heart.
Her final thought, as her consciousness faded, focused on one agonized query that cut through the fog: Was any of it ever real?
The world faded to black.
The dog moved with strange, deliberate purpose—head low, tail stiff—as it crossed the living room. It stopped in front of the door leading into the kitchen and began scratching the wood, whining in a thin, anxious thread of sound.Sandra's scream tore through the room.“Get it out! Please—get it out of here!”Darcy flinched at the outright panic lacing her voice. “Sandra, what's wrong with you?”Kelvin felt the hair rise along his arms. Her fear wasn't theatrical; it was primal.Already, Jack was moving. In two strides he reached the door, twisted the handle, and flung it open; the dog shot inside like a bullet.Kelvin couldn't see into the kitchen from where he was standing, but he heard Jack's breath catch—just once, sharp. The dog had stopped moving. Its nails clicked on tile. Then a soft whimper.Kelvin looked over at Jack, and Jack gave him a quick glance. Kelvin knew what it meant: Move.He pushed off the wall and crossed to the hall door, planting his back against it, blocking
No sooner had Bill Darcy entered the lounge than the telephone began ringing sharply."Get that!" he yelled.Darcy walked toward the liquor cabinet, drawing out a bottle of scotch as if its weight calmed him, while Malcolm moved swiftly, crossing to the phone. Lifting the receiver, Malcolm listened, winced, and then looked at Darcy, who was splashing ice with liquor."It's Captain Whitely," Malcolm whispered. "Says it's urgent."Darcy reached for the phone and, with his free hand, lit a cigarette after downing half the drink in one tilt of the glass."What now?" he mumbledWhitely's voice crackled down the line, breathless and shaking.“A report just came in—it’s going to blow a hole in everything.”Darcy stiffened. "Speak.""Sean Harris is dead. Shot. Fifteen minutes ago."Darcy held the glass of drink tightly.“What the hell are you talking about?“One of my men saw Kelvin—the kid you're hunting—talking with Sean near the waterfront hotel,” Whitely said. “He tried questioning Kelvin
Kelvin stood in the small corridor and felt his stomach turn with every shot. The muffled sound of automatic gunfire shook the ceiling. He leaned against the wall, breathing through his mouth and still tasting copper. The only sound was coming from above, and everyone's attention was on the building.He went up the stairs carefully, feeling his way along the banister. Every shot seemed to reverberate inside his mind. The street door was at the bottom of the stairs, dimly lit by the orange glow of the city outside. He paused before it.Kelvin struck a match. The brief light showed cracked wallpaper and a filthy hall stool. Now he heard the sirens, closer, circling. Police were close. He opened the door and stepped into the refreshing night after snuffing out the match.A flurry of lights and shouting filled the pedestrian street. Police officers escorted bystanders out of the blocked block. Gunfire could still be heard from Sean's building. He turned up his collar, hunching his shoulde
The night was shattered with gunfire. They had been listening to it for three minutes, each blast a hammer to their skulls. Lena flattened herself against the wall, her expression ghostly white with fear. Sean sat on the side of the bed, his gun resting in his lap with a finger on the trigger guard.“He should never have run off,” Lena continued to shiver. “It’s my fault. He’ll be killed.” "Shut up!" Sean said, without looking at her. "Let me listen." The booted sound pounded over the roof above their heads, followed by another spatter of fire—this time nearer. Dust shook from the ceiling.Sean was muttering to himself, "I had no idea he had a gun. He's shooting it out with them!"Lena put her palms over her ears. But—hear me out—aren't two guns firing?Sean didn't move. Two different bursts, one slower and heavier than the other, began to overlap as they rolled through the building like an echo in the alley.A beat later, he nodded and said, "Yeah," and the pulse in his neck quickene
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