°SERENA°
I waited and waited, even fate laughing at me, my supposed groom still didn't arrive. "Now, a final call to Mr. Adrian Royce to come forth," the priest announced. Silence. No one stepped forward. I stood there, head bowed, a bouquet trembling in my hands. Scanning the sea of unfamiliar faces, my eyes landed on my father. His cold, icy gaze met mine, devoid of even the slightest concern for his daughter—who had just been stood up at the altar. The murmurs of the crowd grew louder until someone approached the priest, whispering something in his ear. The priest nodded, then held out a ring to me. "With the power vested in me," he declared, his voice carrying a tinge of pity, "I now pronounce Adrian Royce and Serena Cooper husband and wife." And just like that, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing alone in a veil of humiliation. Guests began to disperse, their eyes casting fleeting glances of pity—or judgment. I spotted my father preparing to leave and rushed to his side, desperation clawing at me. "Where are you going? Take me with you. What am I supposed to do here?" I pleaded, clutching his arm. He shook me off like I was nothing. "You're of no use to me anymore. Wait here until the Royces come to collect you," he said, his voice colder than the marble floor beneath my feet. Tears blurred my vision, streaming down my face in silent agony. I know he didn’t love me, but it tore me apart to realize he hated me this much—for what happened years ago. "Stop crying, or you'll look like Annabelle when your crippled husband sees you," my sister, Anna sneered as she passed by. "Who knows, even he might kick you out." Her taunt stung, sharp as a blade. This entire drama was because of her, yet she stood there without a shred of remorse. She shoved me aside and walked away, leaving me crumpled on the floor. And there, under the weight of abandonment and betrayal, I wept quietly. It was at that moment that the girl who once craved love finally died within me. A Day Before “It hasn’t even been a week since Grandma’s death, and you want me to marry some stranger?” I protested, my voice shaking with disbelief. “Correction,” Anna sneered, “he’s not a stranger. He’s the first son of the Royce family.” “If you know so much about him to sing his praises, why don’t you marry him—” Before I could finish, a sharp slap landed across my cheek, sending me crashing to the floor. I looked up, stunned, to see my father towering over me, his eyes filled with pure disgust. “The marriage proposal was for your sister,” he growled. “Thank your stars you’re taking her place and marrying into the Royce family.” He said that as if I have to kneel and thank her for giving me this opportunity or more like a death sentence. “I would have married him, Serena,” Anna interjected, inspecting her long red nails. “But he’s a cripple—better suited for a country girl like you.” “Get her ready tomorrow,” my father ordered coldly. “No need to ask for her opinion.” “But I—” “If you say one more word,” he interrupted, his voice icy, “you’ll never see your grandmother’s grave again.” My breath caught. Grandma—the only person who had ever loved me unconditionally—was now being used to threaten me. I couldn’t lose her too. I nodded silently, my spirit breaking as I agreed to the arrangement. The next morning, the house was bustling with activity as gifts and jewelry from the Royce family poured in. Anna snatched up the wedding gown as soon as it arrived and barged into my room. “Now, like the perfect sister I am, I’ll help you get ready,” she said, smiling ear to ear. “No, thanks,” I muttered, retreating to the changing room. When I stepped out, she was still there, her eyes glinting with malice. I turned to the mirror. The gown, clearly not my size, hung awkwardly, its heavy embroidery scratching at my skin. The straps slipped from my shoulders no matter how often I adjusted them. “Don’t bother,” Anna scoffed. “No one cares how you look anyway.” I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to lash out. Did she not realize I was doing this for her? This whole nightmare was because of her greed. A knock at the door broke the tension. “Come in,” Anna called before I could respond. Two women in their mid-thirties entered, armed with makeup kits. “That’s the bride,” Anna said dismissively. “Get her ready. We’re short on time.” She left without another word. The women went to work on my face without asking my permission. When they were done, I barely recognized myself. Heavy eyeliner rimmed my eyes, making me look haggard. My lips were painted an aggressive red that clashed with everything else. Together, it made me look years older—and utterly unlike myself. At Present “Are you Miss Cooper?” a man in a suit asked as I sat on the marble floor, my bouquet discarded beside me. I couldn’t summon the strength to speak. My throat felt constricted, my voice lost somewhere between despair and exhaustion. I nodded weakly, avoiding his gaze. “The madam of the Royce family sent me to fetch you,” he said, his tone devoid of warmth. So now they remembered me—their new daughter-in-law. A pity they hadn’t remembered before leaving me humiliated at the altar. Without a choice, I staggered to my feet, clutching the folds of the heavy gown to keep from tripping. My legs wobbled as I followed him to the sleek black car waiting outside. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of the gown and my situation pressing down on me. The car door shut with a dull thud, enclosing me in a silence so sharp it rang in my ears. I stared out the window, a part of me hoping the car would never stop—that it would just keep going, far away from everything. After what felt like hours, the car finally rolled up to a grand villa, its towering gates opening with an air of command. The structure was breathtaking—ornate columns, sprawling gardens, and a fountain so extravagant it looked like something plucked from a dream. In that moment, I understood why Anna had considered marrying him—if not for his crippled state. But no beauty could mask the dread curling in my stomach. This wasn’t a home—it was a gilded cage. The driver opened the door for me, and I stepped onto the stone pathway leading to the villa’s entrance. The gown caught on the uneven ground, and I stumbled slightly, steadying myself before anyone could notice. As I crossed the threshold, the atmosphere changed instantly. The warmth of the outside world evaporated, replaced by the cold, sterile air of wealth and formality. Chandeliers glittered above me, their crystals refracting the light in dazzling patterns. Everything sparkled, but nothing felt alive. The silence wasn’t peaceful—it was eerie, like the calm before a storm. Each footstep echoed too loudly, reminding me I didn’t belong here. I barely had a moment to take it all in when a deep, menacing voice boomed through the grand hall. The words struck me like a physical blow, freezing me in place. My heart raced as the voice reverberated through the room, each syllable heavy with authority and disdain. “Who let you in?”Hello Hiraeth Hearts,You made it—to the final page, to the last heartbeat. And I need you to know—this journey was never mine alone. It was ours.Thank you for carrying it. Loving it. Finishing it.Your words, your support, your love— you made this story more than a book. You made it alive.This was never about perfect love. It was about love that’s messy. Real. Healing. Love that comes after pain—and still chooses to stay.I wrote this with trembling fingers and a bleeding heart, hoping someone out there would feel a little less alone. If that someone was you… I’m honored.But this is not the end. Serena and Adrian’s journey may be paused for now, but another story is already rising in the same world—*BETTER THAN REVENGE*A second-chance romance. A calm, calculated CEO who built walls to survive. A fierce heiress with wildfire in her lungs and a family she’d burn legacies to protect. When fate throws them back together, love and vengeance go hand in hand.Follow me on IG: @author
°ADRIAN° “I’m pregnant.” The words fell from her lips—quiet, but world-shattering. I stared at her. Blinked once. Then again. My arms had stopped swaying us. The soft hum of music that had been cradling the night faded into silence, like someone had pressed pause on the universe. She was smiling. Not her usual confident grin—but something fragile. Nervous. Hopeful. Radiant. I opened my mouth. But no words came, just air. She's pregnant. I’m going to be a father? The realization crashed into me like a wave breaking open something hidden in my chest. “I—I didn’t…” I stammered, voice suddenly foreign to me. “You’re serious?” She nodded, biting her lip. Her eyes glistened. And I— I dropped to my knees. Right there, on the stone path scattered with fallen blossoms and fairy light shadows. My knees hit the earth. Hard. I didn’t feel it. I pressed my forehead gently to her stomach, my arms looping around her waist like I could shield the future growing insid
°SERENA° I stood just behind the garden door—the one that no longer led to the lush garden I had once spent countless hours tending to, but now, it led to an aisle. A simple, beautiful aisle, lined with soft petals and fairy lights that twinkled like stars. The garden, once my sanctuary, had transformed into a sacred space of joy, love, and promises. My fingers trembled as they brushed against the delicate lace of my dress—my wedding dress. It wasn’t just beautiful. It was mine. Custom-made just for me: ivory with soft lilac undertones that shimmered faintly in the light, as though the fabric itself carried a secret, a promise of something more. The bodice hugged me like a whispered vow, soft but firm, as if it knew my every movement. The skirt flowed out, like petals unfurling, graceful and simple but enchanted in its own way. A soft breeze stirred through the air, carrying with it the scent of lilies—the very flowers that adorned the garden—and something sweeter, something mo
°SERENA° THREE YEARS LATER I didn’t believe it—not fully—until the dean handed me that scroll and said my name into the microphone. Even as the applause roared and my classmates screamed like they'd just broken out of a decade-long prison sentence, I stood there frozen, blinking under the stage lights like it was all a dream I wasn’t ready to wake up from. But then I looked down. At the degree in my hands. Doctor Serena Cooper. The paper felt too light for the weight it carried. Too soft for everything I’d fought through to hold it. My chest tightened. My throat burned. And suddenly, it was real. I did it. I’m a doctor. And yet, even as the words circled in my head, they felt borrowed—like they belonged to someone braver, someone more brilliant. For a split second, doubt curled its fingers around my spine. Was this really mine? Had I really crossed the finish line after all those nights that bled into mornings, the silent breakdowns in library corners, the battles no on
°SERENA° I woke up cold. The sheets beside me, usually warm with Adrian’s lingering body heat, were cool and untouched. The silence around me wasn’t peaceful—it was eerie. No hum of life, no soft rustle of fabric, no faint breathing beside mine. Just an expanse of quiet that made me sit up, instantly alert. The curtains swayed gently with the early morning breeze, letting golden slivers of sunlight fall across the marble floors. Outside, birds chirped faintly, as if the world was trying to act normal. But inside the villa? It felt like time had stilled. Adrian was always here on weekends. Whether he woke before me or not, he stayed close. He’d wait for me, make a sarcastic remark about how long I slept, or sometimes pull me back under the covers with a teasing, "Five more minutes, sweetheart." But today… there was none of that. I slid out of bed, my toes curling against the cold marble. I reached for my robe and wrapped it tight, the plush fabric brushing softly against my sk
°ADRIAN° I don’t know why I’m hesitating. Yet here I am—standing in front of an apartment door in New York, fingers hovering over the bell like it's wired to blow. The city hums behind me: impatient taxis blur past, a siren wails faintly in the distance, someone barks into their phone from across the street. Life moves forward, fast and messy. But me? I’m frozen in this one breath, caught between regret and redemption. It’s been a week since the dust began to settle. Since the sirens quieted, the courtrooms emptied, and the scars—both the kind that throb beneath my skin and the ones no X-ray can catch—began to scab over. Evelyn lost it when she learned about Victor’s death. She screamed. Threw accusations like knives—mostly at Serena. But Fred pulled the video off my phone, and the forensics backed it. Evelyn had to face the cold, hard truth. Serena didn’t kill him. And she had only herself to blame. On sentencing day, Timothy limped into the courtroom—bruised, battered, but brea