She offered him her heart, her trust, her everything and her soul only to face betrayal, heartbreak, and being discarded as if she meant nothing to him. Eleanor Sinclair was once a delicate, vibrant, quiet woman who loved intensely and wholeheartedly, but love caused her immense pain and regret. Married to the ruthless, wicked and influential Damian Blackwood, she suffered through his cold indifference, harsh words, and the stifling loneliness of an absent and void love. When he wrongfully accused her of infidelity and cast her away, she lost everything: her dignity, her aspirations,her goals, her life maybe and the child she was carrying. Left for dead, Eleanor faded from existence, but she didn’t die. Instead, she emerged from her suffering, forged in the fires of pain and revenge, becoming the very nightmare of the underworld. No longer the timid, weak woman pleading for affection, she returns years later, powerful and driven by a singular mission: to destroy the man who ruined her life, to kill him and burn him if possible. However, Damian Blackwood is unlike any other. Ruthless, strategic, and more dangerous than before, he never expected the woman he once threw away would come back stronger, more lethal and destructive, and beyond his reach. The moment he lays eyes on her again, he recognizes his error. She was never the weak one he was. Now, he’s determined to pursue her, plead, and break every rule to reclaim her for good. But Eleanor has no heart left to offer. Not while the fire of revenge still courses through her veins. He feels regret. She seeks vengeance. Let the pursuit begin…
Lihat lebih banyakEleanor's POV
SLAP!
The impact and sound of Damian’s palm hit my cheek with such force that I tumbled backward. For a moment, my vision became blurry, and a strong pain ran through my face. The world around me turned around, the big chandeliers above turning into streaks of gold. Gasps filled the ballroom, followed by a suffocating and usual silence that felt like a heavy weight pressing down on me.
I pressed my fingers to my burning cheek, the sting only adding to my pain. While my ears rang from the blow, tingle tingle, the pounding of my heart was even louder. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t possibly be happening to me.
Damian Blackwood, my husband, my love, my everything,g stood before me, his gaze filled with cold, unyielding fury, just like that of a dagger.
"You ungrateful whore! You bastard" he roared, his voice moving through my entire being.
I recoiled at the venom in his words. My lips twisted, trying to defend myself, but my throat felt dry and my mind was a blank and sorry slate.
The grand ballroom of the Blackwood Estate was packed with the city's elite wealthy businessmen, influential politicians, and high-society figures all of them were staring at me, their expressions filled with judgment and hate. The celebration was supposed to honor our anniversary, a night to honor our love. But love had vanished at that moment.
Because tonight, love had turned into betrayal, and that really hurt.
Damian held my wrist, drawing me closer with a strong and firm grip that felt like it could crush my bone into piece. "How dare you make me look foolish?" His fingers dug painfully into my skin like a lion claw.
Desperately, I shook my head. "Damian, please, I don’t get it! What are you talking about?" My voice shook, barely above a whisper.
He let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "You don’t get it? Perhaps this will jog your memory, you stupid idiot."
Turning to his right, my stomach dropped as Vincent Moreau, Damian’s closest associate and friend, stepped forward. His sharp, predatory look shined with satisfaction as he handed Damian a thick envelope. Damian tore it open and revealed a series of glossy naughty photographs.
He throws them to the floor at my feet.
I looked down, and the ground beneath me seemed to crumble.
There I was, Eleanor Sinclair Blackwood captured in various naughty images. But the woman in those pictures wasn’t really me. She was in a hotel room, too close to another man's body, to f*cking close, smiling, resting on his shoulder. In one photo, my hand rested against his chest, caressing it; in another, our lips were almost touching each other.
A wave of icy and cold terror washed over me. "No… this can’t be true!" I gasped for breath. "This is fabricated, Damian! I promise you!"
But he wasn’t listening to me. He had already made up his mind.
"You make me sick," Damian spat, his once passionate eyes now void of emotion. "You were carrying another man’s child while pretending to be my wife in my own home."
His words cut through me like a knife. I stumbled back, shaking my head unsteadily. "No, I would never do that"
Vincent sighed with exaggerated disappointment. "Tsk, tsk, Eleanor. Lying at this point is simply sad." He shook his head, smirking. "We have witnesses. The hotel manager saw you check in. The staff verified it was you."
Desperation moved inside me as I faced him. "You’re lying! You set this up! You framed me!"
Vincent just smirked. "Prove it."
As my hands trembled, I reached for Damian. "You know me. You love me. You know I would never betray you!"
But Damian recoiled as if my touch burned him.
"You’re no wife of mine," he said, his voice cold and firm. "You mean nothing to me."
The pain that followed was far worse than the slap. Far worse than all of his accusations. Because Damian wasn’t just ending our marriage he was erasing me from his life entirely.
"Throw her out," he commanded.
Before I could understand what was happening, the guards moved forward. Strong hands seized me, dragging me toward the exit.
"Damian, please!" I cried out, struggling against them. "Just listen to me! I swear, I never betrayed you!"
But he turned his back on me.
He didn’t even glance back as they led me away.
*****
The door was closed behind me, and the chill and freeze of the night air brushed my unprotected skin like needles. My body was shaking from the cold, the shock, and the crushing realization that my world had just been dismantled, that my life had just been totally destroyed.
I stood outside the grand estate, my vision fading by unshed tears.
My life had been torn away.
I had no money, no family, no home.
The dress I wore- a custom piece that Damian had once admired on me- now felt like a cruel mockery. My hair was rough, and my face was swollen from tears and humiliation.
The rain began to fall lightly at first, then heavier, soaking me all through.
I couldn’t move.
I had nowhere to go.
A sickening twist in my stomach served as a bitter reminder that I wasn’t alone in this.
I placed a hand on my lower belly.
Our baby.
I had planned to tell Damian tonight. I had rehearsed the words over and over. But instead of sharing what should have been the happiest news of our lives, I had been discarded like trash, the pain...
I inhaled sharply, forcing myself to stand tall and still.
I needed to think. I needed to
A sharp clicking sound broke the silence.
Footsteps.
I turned just as a black SUV pulled up. The tinted windows rolled down, revealing Vincent’s smirking face.
"Need a ride, sweetheart?" His voice filled with mockery.
I stepped back instantly. "Stay away from me, you bastard."
He laughed lightly. "Now, now, is that any way to speak to the man who just helped ruin your life?" My nails dug into my palms out of frustration. "Why are you doing this?"
Vincent leaned against the window, his smirk widening. "Because, Eleanor… I wanted to witness the moment you will finally fall."
Rage moved within me, but before I could respond, the back door of the SUV swung open. Two masked men came outside. Panic flooded through me. I turned to run.
But it was too late. One of them seized my wrist, pulling me back.
I screamed, kicking and thrashing, but they overpowered me. One of them pressed a cloth over my mouth, the sharp, sickly scent invading my senses. No. Not like this.
Darkness covered my vision. Damian, I thought faintly, before my world slipped into darkness….
DAMIAN BLACKWOOD I took a few seconds to regain my composure, and breathe. No doubt, I was terrified to my bones about facing her. I did not know what to say or how to admit that I now knew the truth about five years ago. I did not know how to apologise, or the words to use, or how best to say that I regretted having her leave. Thinking of what to say felt too much, and I had somehow hoped that she would put off trying to talk to me so that the ugly moment would be postponed, until a better time. I didn't expect that it would be now! "You should have gone with the rest," I said, staring at my feet and turning with my back to her again. "Yes. I should." She replied. Still, there was no sound to show that she had walked away, no departing footsteps, so I turned again and found her there, still waiting. She, too, was not looking at me, but staring at something on the ground, something invisible, something away from me and my profile. Seeing her still there did something to me.
DAMIAN BLACKWOOD I had lived the last five years in misery. Hearing this woman's confession made me even more miserable. I had lost the woman who loved me, and who I had unknowingly loved. I had become as crushed as my father when he did not end up with the woman he loved, with Vanilla Black. I had tried hard to escape that fate but it was mine, now. I had been lied to and betrayed by the man I trusted the most. And I did not consider it overreaching, but I did think I could fix everything in one sweep. I would give this woman her son back, even though I would never know why she had known all that and still gone ahead to have a son with him. I would make Vincent pay for his lies and betrayal. And Eleanor... I did not know what I would do with Eleanor. Take her back, a thought came to my head, but I shook it off. Now, in hindsight, I know I had only been a burden to her, an anchor that kept her grounded. Maybe the truest form of my love for her would be to let her go. So I
DAMIAN BLACKWOOD The only thing constant is change. And I found out too late that I made the same mistake as my father, that I loved Eleanor Sinclair the same way he loved Vanilla Black. I always believed that I did not love her and my treatment of her convinced me that she was simply a woman I put up with, one I was tolerating. Until I woke up and she wasn't there anymore. Hell… seeing those photos hurt because I loved her. I should have known I loved her when I started to try to legalise my business as she wished I would for our children, when I cared less about the women I had been sleeping with before her. I should have known it when it broke me each time I hit her, and I should have run, nipping it in the bud before anything. But I let it grow until kicking her out sent my life down a downward spiral. I woke up and felt alone in my bed, even when I had someone in it. I smelt her even when she wasn't there. And when I tried to look for her, I did not find her. And when I di
ELEANOR SINCLAIR Marcus looked as though I was mad. "Isn't that the one man you should be avoiding?" He asked. "Why should I avoid him?" "He kicked you out of his life five years ago, and has probably swallowed another of Vincent's lies for all we know." "You do not know Damian as much as I know him," Eleanor said, her eyes glazing over. "To you both, he is the force in Vieuti, the man with the power to do and undo. To me, he is the only man I ever loved. He is many things, but a fool is not one of them. And he watched us run away. Believe me when I say that if Damian wanted us, he would have us in a heartbeat." "I'm not sure about this," Marcus countered, the doubt evident in his voice. "I am, and deep down, Helen-Nora knows it too. Damian saved us from Vincent the first time, and would probably be angry and hurt that Helen-Nora and I ran away from him. Now, we will return to him, and he will help us find Ailean again." Helen-Nora only looked distraught, and I knew she did n
ELEANOR SINCLAIR Once again, we got away. Forced to find another hotel, we were soon back where we started as Helen-Nora's tears filled the quiet hotel room, each struggle to draw breath a painful testament to her misery. We stood watching her, our hearts split between concern and growing uncertainty over how much of continuing to take her along with us was a good idea. The traumatic kidnap of her son had done enough to stripp away the defenses of the woman they knew. "My son. my lovely boy." she muttered to herself, her voice hoarse. "He's dead, and it's all my fault. All of it." I, who was still confused over all that had happened, reached out to offer what comfort I could, but Marcus signalled me with a raised hand, a warning glint in his eyes. He would later tell me that instinct could feel a confession over what happened hovering on the brink of her grief. "Helen-Nora," Marcus told her, his voice firm but not unkind, "we know you're in pain. But we have to know what's happ
VICTOR MOREAU This was my chance, however. The fleeting loss of his focus, the distraction-it was a vanishing moment of opportunity, but an opportunity nonetheless. Even while they were restraining me, it did not drain me as much as did the weight of what had happened, building a desperation that was going to consume me. My body ached, my head throbbed, and the knowledge that I'd been outsmarted by people I'd assumed were powerless were bitter pills to swallow. But seeing Helen-Nora, Eleanor, and Marcus drive off into the night had kindled a spark of triumph at Damian's defeat. It was a dirty, spontaneous victory, one that was going to buy me some much needed time, time that showed however brief. They dragged me deeper into the labyrinth of the fishery, along slicker, more vacated corridors. The stench of fish guts and cold, stagnant water was overwhelming. The gun shoved into my back to prevent me from running felt like hot scald, burning into my skin. My mind, though dazed an
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