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The driver nodded frantically through tears.“They didn’t do anything… please… Mr. Hale...”And for the briefest moment, something shifted behind Lucian’s eyes.Because suddenly, against his own will, he thought of Elira.Her smile.The car finally came to a stop in front of a massive abandoned warehouse hidden far beyond the city limits, isolated enough that no one would hear screams if they echoed through the night. Rain had started sometime during the drive, pouring steadily now, washing over the rusted steel exterior and dripping from the edges of the roof in heavy streams.Thunder rumbled faintly in the distance, low and ominous, while the headlights illuminated cracked concrete stained by years of neglect. The entire place looked dead... cold, forgotten, and dangerous.One of Lucian’s men rushed forward the second the vehicle stopped, quickly opening the back door with an umbrella. “Sir.”Lucian stepped out without responding.The night air carried the scent of rain, rust, da
Lucian stopped attending the company meetings entirely and handled them from home instead. At night, Elara woke up several times only to find him still awake beside her, quietly watching to make sure she was breathing comfortably. Once, very late into the night, she had caught him staring silently at her stomach. The expression on his face had startled her... Wonder, fear, and love. Something so raw and overwhelming that it made her heart physically hurt. Lucian had always loved deeply. She had come to know about that. Well, from his cousin's death. But now? Now it felt almost consuming. And the worst part was... Elara loved every second of it. Even if they treated her like a rare endangered species. Things only became more chaotic when Grandma Hale returned unexpectedly that afternoon. The old woman had supposedly left for a week-long spiritual retreat at the Buddha temple. She had only departed on the same day as the car accident. So when a familiar luxury car suddenly en
One Week Later The Hale mansion had not known a single moment of peace for the past two days. Not because tragedy had struck or because danger lingered. But because every single person inside the estate had collectively reached the same terrifying conclusion... Elara Hale was now the most delicate, precious, overprotected human being alive. And it was slowly driving her insane. “No, no, no ..don’t carry that.” “Elara, sit down first.” “Why are you walking so fast?” “The doctor said you need rest.” “Elara, give it to me.” “Elara... careful!” "Madam... watch your steps please. Walk slower." By the fourth interruption that afternoon alone, Elara finally dropped her forehead dramatically against the dining table with a loud groan. “Oh my God,” she complained miserably, her voice muffled against the polished wood. “I am pregnant, not terminally ill. Please, give me a break!” Around the table, several heads immediately turned toward her. Lucian, who sat beside her reviewing a
Annabelle sat in the VIP section beside two of her best friends, Vivian and Celeste, both equally intoxicated by gossip, wealth, and cruelty. Vivian leaned closer first. "So it’s true?” she asked loudly over the music. “Lucian really married that girl?” Annabelle downed half her drink before answering. “Yes.” The bitterness in her voice was impossible to miss. Celeste frowned dramatically. "I still don’t understand what he sees in her.” Annabelle laughed humorlessly. “Neither do I.” But the words hurt more than she wanted to admit. Because deep down, she did understand and that was the problem. Lucian loved Elara in a way he could never love Annabelle. And she hated Elara for it. Hated her for being chosen so effortlessly despite her poor background. “They’re everywhere online,” Vivian muttered while checking her phone. “People are obsessed with them after the accident. They’re calling them some tragic romance couple now.” Annabelle’s grip tightened around her glass again.
The city looked different at night. It felt colder and crueler.The glittering lights outside the tall glass windows of Annabelle Kingley’s penthouse reflected against the darkness like jewels scattered across black silk, beautiful and cold all at once. From above, the streets looked tiny, insignificant, filled with people who would never understand what it felt like to lose something that was supposed to belong to you.Annabelle stood near the floor-to-ceiling window with a glass of untouched champagne in her hand, still dressed in the elegant black outfit she had thrown on after leaving the spa.Her reflection stared back at her through the glass.Perfect makeup. Perfect hair. Perfect posture. And eyes filled with poisonous thoughts.The anger inside her had not cooled. If anything, it had become worse and more dangerous.The words from those headlines still echoed inside her skull like mockery.Lucian Hale and his wife, Elara Hale.Every time she thought about it, her chest burned
The attendants exchanged nervous glances at her sudden mood shift. Neither woman dared move or even question if they could help her with anything. Annabelle barely noticed they were still there. Her mind was unraveling too quickly. Because the public never officially learned their engagement had collapsed. In society’s eyes, Annabelle was still Lucian Hale’s future wife. This meant that everyone reading those headlines right now would immediately understand what had happened. She had been replaced publicly, humiliatingly. And not by someone powerful. Not by a woman from one of the elite families. But by Elara... That girl. That insignificant little nobody who somehow stole everything Annabelle believed belonged to her. Memories crashed into her all at once. The whispers during charity galas. The women pretending sympathy while secretly enjoying her humiliation. The subtle pity in businessmen’s eyes when Lucian stopped accompanying her to events. The tension i
Lucian stood up abruptly. The movement was so sudden, so violent, that the legs of his chair shrieked against the marble floor before he even fully straightened. For half a second, it looked as though the chair might topple harmlessly backward. But then Lucian grabbed it. With raw, unrestrain
Lucian finished bathing. The sound of running water faded behind the bathroom door. He reached for a towel, wrapping it low around his waist, secure but casual, as if he had never once considered the effect of such simplicity. Another towel went to his hair, and he raked it through slowly, wa
Elara let out a quiet sigh and turned toward the shower, stepping beneath the spray as warm water cascaded over her skin. The heat wrapped around her like a cocoon, soaking into tight muscles and aching bones, washing away the tension clinging to her like a second skin. She closed her eyes. For
The whole room froze. It wasn’t the dramatic kind of pause people liked to imagine in stories. No! It was real, visceral, and immediate. Forks stopped halfway to mouths. Knives hovered above plates. Glasses were suspended mid-air as if gravity itself had forgotten how to work. Even the soft c







