Flora's POV"Are you serious about not wanting to talk to me about this, Flora?" Serena's voice is blaring loudly from the other side of the door as I lean against it, trying everything within my power to keep it from opening. I gaze up at the ceiling and shut my eyes tight with exasperation.Fuck Damian for saying this out loud within her hearing. Now I'm going to have an extremely lonely battle in trying to make her forget about this.Serena has always been the kind to be extremely inquisitive about things, especially when it comes to matters concerning me, even though it is none of her fucking business.The fact that she just wants to know about it is what is getting me extremely annoyed right now as I quickly turn around and open the door to see her standing in front of me, giving me a questioning gaze."Is it every single living thing about my life you must know about?" I ask as I attempt to walk past her, but she stands in
I continue to scrutinize him deeply the moment he says that, and this makes me fold my arms intensely as I observe him and tap against my jaw, thinking if it will be a wise idea to believe him. I turn to look at Serena, but then I realize that now is not such a good time to even listen to any advice from her since Lucas has already shut her up just a few minutes ago.It's now that I actually realize that most of the times I have already gotten used to waiting for her approval, and it makes me bite hard against my bottom lip to see that she is not even looking at us presently, probably still angered by the way Lucas spoke to her a few minutes ago. She is gazing elsewhere, tapping her foot restlessly against the floor."She is not the owner of your life, Flora, and please, for once, just own yourself and make the decision with your own mind. You don't have to depend on her all the time, and she's not going to determine your entire life for you."
"Have you been fucking stalking me all my life?" I look at him as he shakes his head quickly, his lip trembling with a certain fright I have never seen in his eyes for a very long time.He quickly gets up from the sofa and attempts to take hold of my hand, perhaps trying to pacify me. "No, seriously, it's not what you think, Flora. I need you to listen to me. Please give me a chance to explain." I move quickly away from him, looking at him, unable to control the rage that is moving through my mind. "Honestly, I don't know what to think about you right now," I say as I raise both of my hands with exasperation and look at him. "I don't even think I understand and know you presently. Why? Why have you been following me all my life? Just what is the use? What were you hoping to accomplish? Do you realize and understand just how stupid and freakish that sounds? You have literally been following me for..." I exasperatedly move awa
CRASH!!!!!!The loud sound of heavy ceramics shattering against the hard floor forces Victoria to quickly step down from the shower in the bedroom of the opulent mansion, a towel wrapped around her, revealing her lithe and alluring figure.She stops with a jolt, realizing the source of the commotion: Damian, pacing furiously throughout the expansive living room, his face contorted in a mask of rage."Fucking bitch!! Why the hell is it so hard for you to believe me for once?" he screams at the top of his lungs, kicking another ceramic ornament across the room.Victoria calls out, her voice sharp and commanding, "Damian!"He halts at the sound of her voice and slowly turns, his eyes narrowing into an intense frown. Then, he coughs, walking towards a nearby sofa and slumping against it, his foot tapping a relentless rhythm against the floor.She observes him from the staircase for a brief moment, a mischievous smile playin
Flora's POV I try to see what I can do to relax and regain my sanity as I stay back up in Serena's room, attempting to sketch out some major designs that are flashing through my imagination.Serena has already left to work and get some important documents which she promises she will get back to me to review more things while we are on our mission discussing plans to bring Damien down. I am just taking this as my little break as I write briskly against the drawing pad in my hand, sketching something that is flashing in my mind and just using it to pass away time. But I am still unable to focus because the only thing plaguing my mind endlessly right now is Lucas, and I am not calm at all.I am extremely furious. I don't know what to think right now, and I don't even know what I'm doing as I just begin to scratch the pencil relentlessly against the drawing pad, my vision and getting blurry probably due to the amount of tears tha
He looks at me for a brief while, toying with his lips in a sexy manner that slowly begins to round up my internal organs. I tighten my fists, struggling with my very best to regain my composure as I close my eyes and grind my teeth together. "Okay, you really need to stop that right now. We are discussing an important issue, and you need to be serious.""Stop what? I'm not doing anything, okay? I'm just thinking of how I'm going to explain everything to you because it might not actually be something that you will understand deeply since it was what I felt and...""Just say it, no matter how it is, and make it make sense to me so that I don't give you a blow that would dislocate your nose right now."He looks taken aback by what I just said as he looks at me with wide eyes, but then he shakes his head and chuckles slightly, gazing at the ground. "All right then, I guess I'm just going to put it plainly to you. I am honestly an
After a very long while, we finally dress up and then slowly begin to step out of the bedroom, holding hands together and gazing at each other endlessly, unable to look away from each other's eyes. I don't even know what to say, and I have no words to express the strong sort of emotion that is moving through my body as I continue to look into the eyes of the man that has strangely taken possession over my soul, making it so hard for me to just look away for once and...Jesus, I don't even know what I am doing anymore as I look at him and bite hard against my bottom lip before shyly looking away from his magnificent golden-brown eyes."I need to admit I have never been so happy the way I feel right now, Flora," he says, making me quickly detach my hand away from his as I point toward the staircase."Yeah, right. Fun is over. It's time for us to get back into business mode, so can you head down so we can discuss the next phase of the plan
Lucas' POVI quickly stumble out of that familiar building with so much anger clouding my senses as I make my way towards my waiting red Lamborghini situated at the far end of the other side of the road in Serena's estate.I step into the vehicle with annoyance and slam the door shut, with so much frustration clouding my senses as I rub my fingers against my forehead, thinking about my current situation with the both of them.This is just the most crazy thing I have ever experienced in my life, and I don't know what I can say or do anymore about it.I'm still having a hard time trying to understand why that Serena lady detests me so much. For heaven's sake, I have never seen her anywhere, and I've never heard about her from anywhere before. Have we probably by chance crossed paths in the past, and maybe I must have done something to get her offended?I don't even know what to think, and I'm having a hard time trying to process t
Author’s NoteAnd that brings us to the end of Part 1 of Tangled Truths: The Billionaire’s Secret Betrayal.But don’t relax just yet—the story isn’t over.The tension is only getting thicker, and the real game is about to begin.Part 2: Tangled Truths: The Billionaire’s Revenge is coming soon!Get ready for more twists, deeper betrayals, and emotions that will cut even sharper. Flora and Lucas’s journey is far from finished, and the battles ahead will test everything they thought they knew—about each other, and about themselves.If you’ve enjoyed the story so far, please take a moment to leave a quick review or comment.It truly helps support my writing and allows me to continue creating more intense, emotional journeys for you to enjoy.Also, if you can, I would love for you to leave a short comment letting me know what you think about my writing—or even about me as an author! Your feedback means more than you know and inspires me to keep going.Thank you from the bottom of my heart
The package arrives on a rainy Tuesday.No return address. No note. Just a small, meticulously wrapped box resting quietly on the mahogany desk inside Lucas Arden’s corner office—a sanctuary of power that overlooks the city he painstakingly rebuilt from the ruins of scandal and deception.Rain slides down the glass in thin, silver streaks. Thunder hums in the background. He stares at the package for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before reaching for the silver letter opener he hasn’t touched in weeks. He slices through the paper with slow precision, a subtle tightness in his jaw.Inside, nestled like a secret in a bed of crisp black tissue, is a book.A hardcover. Matte black jacket. White serif font.The Tangled TruthA NovelHe freezes.The title registers like a whisper in his bones. Familiar. Haunting.His gaze falls to the author’s name printed below the title in small, elegant script: F. H.His heartbeat falters.He sits down slowly, almost mechanically, and opens the
The fall is always louder than the rise.Damien Vance’s empire—once a towering monolith of luxury, influence, and power—crumbles in a blaze of disgrace. Headlines scream betrayal. His private jets are impounded. Offshore accounts frozen. International warrants flood in. The once-revered tycoon who dined with diplomats and kings now finds himself dragged through a gauntlet of indictments. The media flocks like vultures, circling his legacy as it burns."The Billionaire Who Built His Castle on Lies" blares across global news networks, each word another nail in the coffin of a reputation meticulously manufactured.Victoria Hale sits at the eye of the storm.No longer wrapped in designer gowns or commanding red carpets, she appears in court cuffed and sallow-faced. The courtroom buzzes like a hive, a theater of judgment packed with cameras and whispers. At the prosecution’s table, Serena sits tall in her tailored navy suit, eyes sharp and voice colder than the marble walls around her.She
The hospital room is quiet now—eerily so.Gone are the rhythmic beeps of machines warning of danger. Gone is the sterile rush of nurses and the chaotic hum of life and death decisions. What remains is a stillness that feels like it’s holding its breath. A moment stretched thin by memory.Lucas sits upright in the hospital bed, a bandage wrapping his ribs, the white cotton stark against his bruised, olive-toned skin. His breath catches every time he shifts, a sharp pull in his side reminding him that pain means survival. That he’s alive.Alive because she saved him.Yet she’s not here.It’s been three days since Damien was dragged into federal custody, cuffed and broken beneath the weight of his own lies. Three days since Richard was paraded before a sea of flashing cameras and stunned reporters. The truth spilled out like blood—raw, unstoppable. Flora’s plan had worked. Her chessboard cleared. But Lucas?He still listens for her voice in every quiet moment.There are no calls. No mess
The sound of sirens fades into the distance, no longer urgent, but lingering like the echo of a dying heartbeat. Red and blue lights strobe across the cracked marble floor of the Ashton estate, casting eerie shadows through broken windows. Officers drag Richard through the front entryway, his designer shirt torn, face bloodied, and wrists bound in steel.His eyes burn with betrayal. Hatred. But Flora stands firm.“Mark my words!” he shouts, twisting against his restraints. “You’ve made enemies you don’t even know exist!”Her expression doesn’t change. “Let them come,” she murmurs, her voice quiet but lethal. Her eyes follow him as he vanishes down the steps, swallowed by the flashing lights.As soon as the door swings shut behind him, she drops to her knees beside Lucas.His blood is all over her now, soaking her hands, smearing across her black pants. His shirt clings to his skin, dyed dark with crimson. His chest rises, shallow but steady. Barely.“Lucas, hey, stay with me,” she whi
The sirens scream louder now, flashing lights slicing through the gloom, painting the crumbling estate in hues of red and blue. It should feel like rescue. Like justice. But to Flora, it feels like a final warning.Because the true danger isn’t outside. It’s here, inside these decaying walls. Inside the men she once trusted. The danger pulses through the air like a second heartbeat.Damien moves first. A blur of fury and precision, he launches at Richard without hesitation. His fist connects with Richard’s jaw in a brutal crack, sending the man stumbling into an old sideboard. Wood splinters and glass explodes, littering the floor with jagged debris. Flora screams as the violence erupts inches from her, the sound swallowed by the crashing chaos.Richard recovers with frightening speed. From beneath his coat, he draws a knife—not sleek or tactical, but ugly and vicious, made for tearing flesh, not ending fights cleanly.“You should’ve stayed out of this!” he snarls.Damien’s laugh is a
The estate is old and forgotten—a crumbling remnant of wealth swallowed by creeping vines and heavy silence. Once opulent, it now stands like a ghost of itself, hollowed out by time and secrets. The kind of place where legacies go to die. The kind of place perfect for a reckoning.Flora stands in the grand, dusty main hall, dressed in black from head to toe. Her figure is still, almost statuesque, beneath the cracked chandelier that sways gently with the wind slipping through fractured windows. The air is cold, but her heartbeat is calm. Deliberate. Her eyes scan the space, sharp and unwavering.This place, she chose with care. Far from the noise of the city. Removed from surveillance. Forgotten by maps. It has blind spots, hidden corners, and dead zones—just like Damien prefers. But this time, it’s not his game. This time, she’s the one holding the pieces.Outside, gravel crunches beneath the weight of expensive tires.He’s here.Damien enters as if he owns the world. As if no ghost,
The news breaks like a thunderclap across the media landscape, exploding across every major outlet and social feed with merciless precision. Headlines blare from every screen, screaming in bold fonts and sensational tones: “Victoria Hale: Mistress of Money Laundering?” and “Damien Vance’s Queenpin Exposed.”Cafes, offices, lobbies, airports—every screen plays the same loops. Glitchy video clips, forensic screenshots, redacted emails bearing her unmistakable signature in looping, elegant scrawl. Secret wire transfers, altered invoices, encrypted files cracked wide open. Each detail surgically exposed. Each thread meticulously traced. The media feasts on it. The public, ravenous, consumes every scandalous bite.In the heart of the city, high above the noise, Victoria Hale watches it all unfold.She stands frozen in her penthouse suite, a glass of champagne trembling in her perfectly manicured hand. The television throws harsh light against her face, and for once, she doesn't glow in it.
The knock comes late—soft, hesitant, but deliberate. It cuts through the silence like a thread pulled tight, taut with tension.Flora freezes at the terminal, her fingers suspended just above the keyboard. Code flickers across the screen, each blinking character casting fragments of light across her face. Her heart jumps, not from surprise, but from recognition. She knows who it is before the door even creaks open.Lucas steps inside.His presence fills the room like the return of a forgotten melody—familiar, haunting, comforting, and utterly misplaced in this sterile war zone of a tech suite. The air shifts with him, bringing something warmer, something dangerous.Flora rises slowly, spine straightening, jaw clenched tight. “You shouldn’t be here.”His gaze roams the room—bare walls, humming machines, a paper cup with long-cold coffee—but it always circles back to her. “I had to see you.”He closes the door behind him with a gentle click, but the intensity in his expression is anythi