**The world is cruel, and villains rarely pay for their sins—unless you become one.** --- Sherah Hawke lived the dream of many: a perfect marriage to a man who seemed too good to be true. Ethan Farwell, a cold billionaire to the world, was sweet, caring, and devoted to her alone. Their love story was nothing short of a fairytale—a forgotten daughter meeting her prince in an unexpected twist of fate. But fairytales can be lies. Sherah's perfect world crumbled when she overheard Ethan’s chilling confession. She wasn’t the love of his life—she was nothing but a pawn. A tool for revenge against her half-sister, Sophia. Every tender touch, every kind word? A cruel rehearsal for the moment Sophia returned to his life. Heartbroken, Sherah resigned herself to the collapse of her marriage, prepared to walk away. But Sophia wasn’t willing to wait. Impatient and vengeful, her half-sister orchestrated a horrifying plan. The helpless, and betrayed Sherah met a brutal end. But some endings are only the beginning. Sometimes, life gives second chances not to make amends but to unleash the darkness within. Because sometimes… …a good person can become the villain. And Sherah Hawke is done being good.
View MoreFor the last five years, laughter has echoed in the Farwell mansion and tonight is no different.
At the center of the room, Sherah and Ethan Farwell, a perfect couple in the eyes of many, moved in perfect harmony.
The delicate sound of classical music filled the air, the melody weaving a spell that seemed to halt time itself. Sherah, the lady of the house, was radiant in her white silk pajamas, the fabric shimmering in the chandelier’s glow with each graceful turn.
Her husband, Ethan, looks dashing, with his perfect smile, brown eyes, and dark brown hair, clad in a tailored suit that emphasizes his strong frame. He held her close. His movements were fluid, his touch tender yet confident.
Their eyes met, and the world beyond the mansion faded into insignificance. Ethan’s hand rested lightly on Sherah's back, guiding her effortlessly across the floor. Her fingers curled around his shoulder, their connection intimate and unspoken.
Though their dance seemed choreographed by years of practice, it felt vibrant and fresh, each step a renewed declaration of love.
As the music swelled, Ethan spun Sherah, her soft chuckles mingling with the notes—a more precious melody than the classical piece. The chandeliers caught the shimmering waves of her long dark hair, making her seem almost ethereal.
When he drew her back into his arms, she rested her head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat aligning perfectly with the waltz’s tempo.
The grandeur of the room seemed to fade into the background, a mere stage for the couple’s connection. Velvet drapes, gilded mirrors, and lush floral arrangements became silent witnesses to a love that required no adornment.
As the final notes of the melody faded, they slowed their steps, lingering in the serene silence that followed.
Ethan brushed a loose strand of hair from Sherah’s cheek, his voice low and tender. “You make everything special,” he murmured. “Even waiting for my tremendously late driver seems magical. Without you beside me, I'd be frustrated and yelling now.” He whispered in her ear.
Sherah smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling and filled with admiration. “And you make me the happiest wife in the world,” she replied, resting her head once more against his chest.
She feels like she is in a dream.
Their moment was interrupted by the blaring honk of a car. Ethan sighed, his arms tightening around her. “My ride’s here,” he said, his voice tinged with disappointment.
Sherah giggled. “Do you really have to go?” she asked in a sultry voice, her fingers drawing lazy circles on his chest.
Ethan laughed, leaning close until their noses touched. “Don’t use that voice on me, Mrs. Farwell,” he teased. “I might miss my flight.”
She pouted playfully. “Can’t you send Noel instead?”
“I wish I could, darling, but it's an important business trip,” he replied while planting a soft kiss on her nose. “Go to sleep, and I’ll call you when I land.” He suggested as he made his way to the door.
Sherah waved him goodbye as he left, but the moment Ethan entered the backseat of the waiting car, the smile vanished from his face, replaced by a shadow of guilt as his phone continuously buzzed with messages.
He stared at the messages and sighed deeply. The guilt began to fade, replaced by a fluttering excitement he hadn’t felt in years.
-Can't wait to see you again- he replied to the mountain of messages he received. Lips curled up in glee and anticipation.
When Sherah saw the car speed away, she returned to her knitting, crafting gloves for Ethan’s upcoming birthday.
Hours turned to a day, and Ethan’s promised call never came. Concerned, she tried his number, only to find it switched off. Worry gnawed at her, but she reassured herself that he had likely arrived safely in Australia.
She continued with her day and soon a call from Ethan came. “Hello, darling!” she answered, relief flooding her voice.
Ethan’s tone was apologetic. “Hey, sorry. I didn’t call. I fell asleep.” He explains while caressing the back of his neck with unease.
“It’s okay,” Sherah said with a soft voice. “Have you eaten? What time is it there?”
Before he could answer, a familiar female voice echoed faintly in the background. Soon, the call abruptly ended. Moments later, a text arrived: -In a meeting. I’ll call you later.-
Sherah's brows furrowed. The incident passed through her mind like a dark cloud, but she chose to brush it off.
Two days passed before Ethan returned, but something was different. He seemed distant, his warmth replaced by a cold detachment.
He goes to work early and arrives late. It is as if he is avoiding her.
But Sherah ignored it, attributing it to stress from work. Hoping to lift his spirits, she decided to prepare his favorite seafood Paella, and surprise him at work.
With glee on her face, she went to the supermarket and bought all the ingredients she needed.
Clueless that the moment she got out of her car she was marked and targeted.
In an hour, she was wheeling her shopping cart out of the supermarket’s open parking lot when she abruptly encountered a group of masked men.
“Give us your bag and car keys.” The man demanded as the other two men inched closer to her.
She swiveled her head as if searching for help, but there were no other people in the area.
Her eyes flickered in fear as she stepped back till her back collided with her car. “Please don’t hurt me,” she pleaded as she handed her bag.
The leader took it and touched her face, “Aren’t you too cute with those pretty eyes of yours,” he smirked, showing his yellow nicotine-stained teeth.
Fear gripped her when the man turned violent, held her tightly at the waist, and aimed a knife at her arm.
“Why don’t we drive for a bit and have a good time together?” he uttered maliciously while blowing air on her skin.
Startled, she yelled in disgust. Fortunately for her, a man heard her scream.
“Hey!” A man walking his dog yelled, his voice so dominating that the masked men were startled by his presence.
Sherah took advantage of it and pushed the man holding her, almost getting her arm cut in the process.
The bystander then released his dog, a huge German Shepard.
It barked loudly, sharp fangs gritting with pure hostility and easily driving the attackers away.
Shaken but unharmed, Sherah walked to the man. “T… thank you so much, sir.” She said stutteringly.
Her cheeks reddened and tears at the edge of her eyes.
“Are you okay, miss?” The man asks while checking her for injuries.
She nodded. “I… I am.” She extended her pallid arm to shake his hand, “My name is Sherah… Farwell. Again, I couldn’t thank you and your dog enough sir—”
He gladly shook her hand, “You are welcome... I'm Eliot Carlisle… You can call me Eliot, and this good boy right here is Max. We should call the police,” he suggested.
She gasped and then shook her head, “No… No need. I’m unharmed, and I really need to return home.” She explains as she pets the dog. “I didn’t even see their faces or where they went. I don’t want to waste the police’s time.”
“Are you sure?” He asks while picking up her bag on the ground.
Despite his insistence on involving the police, Sherah chose to let the matter go, not wanting to add to Ethan’s stress.
But beneath her composed exterior, a quiet unease began to stir—a feeling that the life she cherished might not be as secure as it seemed.
After mustering all her courage, she drove home to cook lunch for Ethan. Acting as if nothing threatening happened, she starts humming while cutting the ingredients.
But no matter how much she pushed the memory, her hands couldn't stop trembling as her body could still remember the terror from earlier.
Preoccupied, she accidentally cut her finger. She winces in pain as she watches her blood drip on the floor.
She hurriedly went to their room to clean and bandage her wound when suddenly she remembered she hadn't drunk her vitamins.
She took it out of the bathroom cabinet but when she opened it, it was empty.
She sighed, "Ethan was so busy with work that he forgot to refill my vitamins," she said while caressing her belly.
The vitamins were bought by Ethan for her to help them conceive a child as it was a dream of theirs to have kids.
They've been married for 5 years and tried conceiving for the last 3 years, but it held nothing. Despite that, Ethan did not pressure her and instead gave her the vitamins and even hired a dietitian to create a meal plan for them.
By 11:30 am she headed to Farwell Incorporated, Ethan's company, with a freshly cooked seafood Paella.
Where she was greeted by everyone with respect and was well-loved by everyone in the company.
"Good morning, Mrs. Farwell." The concierge welcomed her while bowing her head.
In the elevator, she saw Noel, Ethan's secretary.
"Good morning, Noel." She greeted him with a smile on her face.
Noel's face was pale as if he was caught doing something wrong.
He opened his mouth but couldn't form any words. In the end, all he could do was bow his head and watch her get off the CEO floor.
She was about to knock on Ethan's office with the Seafood Paella in hand when she heard James' voice talking to Ethan.
She's not the type of person to eavesdrop, but she felt compelled to listen to their conversation.
"You've been married to Sherah for five years. What are your plans? Did the topic of having a baby enter your mind?" James asked curiously. "You need an heir after all."
She smiled at James's question and eagerly awaited Ethan’s response, but soon the glee on her face disappeared as she heard Ethan’s chilling confession.
She stood frozen in place and felt her world fall apart.
The soft hum of the engines vibrates through the cabin, constant and detached. Outside the window, the sky is black—an endless ocean of stars swallowed by clouds.Fallon slowly stirs, her eyelids fluttering open to a dimly lit interior that smells faintly of leather and lavender oil. Her head throbs. Her mouth is dry. Her wrists are gently, but firmly, cuffed to the arms of her seat, restrained in sleek, silk-lined leather like a prisoner wrapped in luxury.She blinks, trying to gather herself. The fog in her mind lingers like a drug she hasn't quite shaken off.“Where are you taking me?” She asks the flight attendant. Her voice was soft and dry. Not asking for any help to be untied because she knew she can’t get away anyway.The flight attendant smiled. “Mr. Kingsley wants to send you to Canada.” She replied casually as if seeing a woman tied up was the norm.Fallon nods. Her eyes are still blurry, and her mind is still foggy.Despite that, she remembers every word Nathan had told he
The room is cast in a soft, amber glow. Outside, the city glimmers like a restless constellation. Inside, everything is quiet, too quiet.Fallon sleeps soundly on the king-size bed, her figure curled beneath silk sheets, breath steady, unaware of the war being waged just beyond her dreams.Nathan stands near the window, phone pressed to his ear, his silhouette bathed in the faint reflection of neon lights flickering outside.His voice, when he speaks, is low. Hollow. Heavy with the weight of a choice he can’t unmake."I told her…" He pause. A beat of silence on the other end.Then—Madam Kingsley’s voice. Controlled. Measured. Spoke over the phone."How did it go?"Nathan glances over his shoulder toward Fallon, still sleeping."She reacted better than I expected…"His tone is remorseful, but distant—a man compartmentalizing pain to survive it."Good." She replied nonchalantly.Nathan closes his eyes for a brief moment. Exhaustion etches itself into the corners of his face. His next wo
In New York Medical Hospital.Eliot’s office. The blinds are half-drawn, casting long shadows across the neat rows of medical books lining the wall. A subtle hum from the hallway outside is muffled the moment the office door closes behind with a deliberate click.Eliot doesn’t look up right away. His pen scratches the paper in slow, focused strokes. Only when the silence stretches unnaturally does he lift his eyes.They land on Ethan’s face, tired, shadowed with something unreadable.“What are you doing here?” Eliot’s ask. His voice sharp, he is clearly not impressed with Ethan’s sudden appearance. Ethan did not waste any moment and blurted out his concern, “I need your help.”Ethan takes a step further into the room. He doesn’t sit. He doesn’t smile.He stands there, his presence more a weight than a greeting.The tension coils tight between them. Eliot sets the pen down with precision and leans back in his chair, folding his arms.Eliot smirked and crossed his arms. “Help you?” He
Ethan didn’t waste a single second.By the time the morning sun had crested over the Farwell Manor, he was already in the city—moving. Calculating. Obsessively methodical.He knew better than to be obvious. He knew he was being watched. Somewhere in the shadows, someone was always listening. Always two steps behind, or worse—two steps ahead.So he ran interference.Three different labs. Three separate appointments. Three carefully curated lies.Each location is a decoy. Each story is a well-constructed fabrication.At the first facility, he submitted a hair sample under the pretense of verifying a long-lost cousin claiming rights to an inheritance.At the second, he spun a tale of a possible sibling born from an affair, seeking closure before accepting a posthumous apology letter.And the third—a bold misdirection: a question of genetic linkage to a historical figure, a secret his “family had sworn to protect.”Each request is sealed under different aliases. Each is couriered by di
AT THE HOSPITAL...Sophia paced back and forth near the cashier’s desk, her arms wrapped tightly around herself like a crumbling shield.The sharp click of her shoes echoed off the linoleum floor, back and forth, back and forth, a metronome of desperation. Her breathing was shallow, nearly tremulous, her chest rising in short, uneven gasps. Her heart beat like a warning bell in her ears.She was aware of the clerk’s eyes, sympathetic but detached. Not cruel. Just conditioned. This wasn’t personal. It was policy.Her gaze locked onto the card machine.“PROCESSING…” The word flashed across the screen like a countdown.This was her final card.The last one has not yet declined. The last sliver of borrowed grace.“Please go through.” “Please don’t take her room away.” “Not today.”She had already lost so much. They had already taken the VIP ward. Just yesterday, her mother had been lying in a room filled with sun—clean linens, wide windows, the smell of eucalyptus oil, and fresh lilies
The next morning.The sun was about to shine, but Ethan was still awake. His mind is racing as he stares at the birthmark on Fallon’s skin.The birthmark. That birthmark.Same as Sherah’s.The size, the shape, even the location. A perfect match. Something no one could forge. No coincidence could easily explain.His mind is racing, thinking about different explanations, but in the end, one idea tops everything. “What if…?” He let his questions get stuck in his throat. Soon, memories emerge like a tidal wave.The way Fallon laughs, her subtle movements, her scent, and most importantly, the familiarity he feels towards her. All the proof points to one thing.His breath hitched, “Is it possible that…” He paused and couldn't finish the thought.He can’t take it anymore, and he needs to leave. Because if he doesn't, he might do something he will regret. He lifted her head from his chest and placed it gently onto the pillow. Her lashes fluttered, a soft sigh left her lips, but she didn’t
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