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publish date:
2026-04-18 17:50:04
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Running Away To My Forgotten Heir The errand
Gina’s POV:"Why are you here?" I force it out, though I managed to make my voice steady.He didn't answer right away. He circled me—slowly, like he was examining something. I refused to turn with him. Refused to give him the satisfaction of tracking his movement."The wedding is in two days," he said, stopping somewhere behind me. I could feel his voice on my neck. "I wanted to see the bride.""Now you've seen her." My voice was sharp."Yes." A pause. "She's prettier than I remembered."My stomach turned.He stepped back into my view. Hands in his pockets. That smile still glued to his face."Don't worry, Miss Gina. I'm not here to hurt you." He tilted his head. "Not yet."The words hung in the air between us.Not yet?"Then leave." I turned back at him."In a moment." He looked toward the elevator. Toward the stairs. Toward the doors where Joe and his men would eventually appear. "I just wanted to give you a message.""What message?"He walked closer. One step. Two. Close enough tha
Running Away To My Forgotten Heir The devil’s visit
Gina’s POV:The next morning, when I woke, he wasn't there.I'd regained my strength—from the rest, the medication, or maybe the lack of anxiety. Or maybe I just felt protected.I looked around. The room felt vacant. I tried to convince myself nothing was missing—but I couldn't.I stretched. Every bone seemed intact—ready to face whatever battle was next.I sat up and rested my head against the pillow on the tiny bed.Just then, a nurse entered, holding a tray of medication and water."You're awake, Miss Gina." She beamed. The smile made her look prettier.I nodded. She placed the tray on the stool beside me—the one Damon had sat on the night before. I scoffed. So he was the missing piece. The reason the room had felt empty.I didn't know what I was feeling, but it wasn't hatred or disgust. It was something more pleasant."You have to take this now," she said, helping me open the bottle."Thank you." I took the medication, then the water, and swallowed."It's okay," she said, packing
Running Away To My Forgotten Heir Night of thoughts
Damon’s POV: Night fell.I felt she could take care of herself while I take care of other matters, but something in me said I should stay.And I did.I sat beside her. On the stool.I watched her breathe heavily. One after the other —the kind of rest someone had after a day of heartbreak. Or disappointment.My mind went back to the moment before. How she said the word without giving it a second thought. “Liar”. How heavily it landed on my heart.Why would I lie to someone I just broke? Someone who just got hurt because of me.Evan had been like that too. He taught me to look after people. Not by telling me, but by making me see it.It was when I fell into a stingy shrub in the garden behind father’s villa, my mother had been sent out by then. I had no one to take care of me and he showed up.From nowhere. He gave me his hand, I hesitated for a while and he didn’t pull it back. He stood there, giving me the chance to trust him.And when I looked at him again and again, I realized he
Running Away To My Forgotten Heir Awake again
Gina’s POV:My head throbbed with pain as I managed to open my eyes a little bit.A flash of headache flew through my skull, and I paused every action on my body entirely.I waited for another moment to get my body to settle and every organ in place, and after about ten seconds I opened my eyes again.It went gradually from blurry to normal as I opened them.“Hospital?” I breathed the word. And it really hurt. The kind of pain that follows every word from your chest through your throat.I tried to swallow. My throat was sandpaper. There was an IV in my arm—I hadn't noticed it before. The tube snaked up to a bag of liquid hanging beside the bed. Fluids. Maybe nutrients. I didn't remember anyone putting it there.My lips were cracked. My mouth tasted like metal. I'd been out longer than I thought.I looked around and the room seemed vacant. The walls were that pale green color hospitals loved—meant to be calming, maybe, but it just felt like sickness. A curtain hung halfway across the
Running Away To My Forgotten Heir Realization
Chapter 13Jax’s POV:The black sedan tore through the night like a wound that wouldn't close.My hands were shaking on the wheel. Not from fear—from rage. From the heat crawling up my neck, tightening my chest, making it hard to breathe.Damon.That outcast. That bastard. That forgotten piece of trash my father should have left in the gutter where he found him.And now he had her.Gina. The gem.I slammed my fist against the steering wheel. The horn blared for half a second before I pulled my hand back.She was supposed to be mine. Not because I wanted her—I never wanted her. Her face did nothing for me. Her voice was just noise. But she was the key. The alliance with her father was the only thing keeping me in the game.Without her, I was nothing. Father would never approve of me. He’d never trust me. Then my opportunity to own it all would vanish before my eyes. I’d be just the second son. The spare. The one who only mattered when Evan was gone.I laughed. It was hollow, even to m
Running Away To My Forgotten Heir Confused
Chapter 12: Gina’s POV:I walked down the terrace heading to my room, walking quietly, avoiding being seen by him.Kelvin just left him, and I was sure he would be heading back any moment.I quickened my steps, holding my handbag tightly over my shoulder.I walked past the maids' passage. They were all in a room, and murmurs spread out. It was not as it was when I passed the last night—the room was quiet and orderly then.I paused, walked to the wall, and leaned against it.I stayed calm and silent, but the sounds coming through were still muffled.I listened again and again, but I couldn't make out a sound.I should leave—Damon could be there any moment—but I couldn't give up. I really wanted to know how they felt about the visit and who they might think was right.Desperate, I walked into the passage—slowly, calculating my steps on my toes. I wasn't perfect—couldn't even remember when I last did that, maybe when I was eight or so—but I managed to reach the door without making a sin
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