°SERENA°
The phone screen lit up suddenly, and my hands trembled as I reached for it. "Don’t make a scene next time you’re going out." — Adrian. This heartless guy! Relief washed over me that it was him, but seriously, could he not text more humanely? Wait—how does he even know what happened? Of course, I should have guessed. I did see the bluetooth on Tim's ear. So Adrian really listened to what happened. Still, I’m not going to reply to you, Adrian Royce. Clutching my phone, I fell back onto my bed. For a fleeting moment, I thought it was someone else, but thank God it wasn him. The next morning, I woke up early, a little giddy—it was my first day of college. Excitement bubbled in my chest as I stepped out. When I arrived, the campus was magnificent—tall buildings surrounded by bustling students in white coats. Soon, I’d be one of them! Right then, my stomach growled, loud and demanding. I hadn’t eaten since leaving his villa—an hour-and-a-half-long drive. If only it wasn’t so far away. "It’s his money, his house, Serena." I shook the thought off and went on a quest for the canteen, guided only by signboards. Finally, I found it. After ordering steamed fish rice, I sat and waited. "Steamed fish rice!" My food! I rushed to grab the bowl, but another pair of hands reached for it at the same time. I froze in confusion, staring at the owner of those hands—a girl who looked as rushed and hungry as I was. “It’s hers; she ordered first,” the cashier said, pointing at me. “Sorry,” the girl murmured. “No, you can have it—” I started, only for my stomach to betray me with a loud growl. I smiled awkwardly. The girl chuckled. “I have an idea. Let’s share the food.” Relieved, I nodded, and we sat down together. “What’s your name?” she asked between bites. “Serena Cooper. And you?” “Nina Ashwood.” “Greate,I just joined. What about you?” I asked, curious. “Oh, same here! But my whole family went to this college, so I’m already familiar with the place,” she explained. “I’m glad we met.” “Me too. Looks like we’re classmates, Serena.” After breakfast, we headed to class together. The day passed in a blur of introductions and settling in. By evening, Nina’s driver picked her up, she too lived far from here. while I took a cab back to the villa. Back home, I checked on the herbs I’d soaked the previous night. The water needed changing, and by tomorrow, they’d be ready. Then We should start needling today. With that in mind, I knocked on Adrian’s door and received a cold, “Come in,” Could he care about people’s feelings even a little? Heartless guy. His already icy gaze hardened further when he saw me, and I gulped instinctively. “What?” he asked bluntly. “The herbs will be ready by tomorrow,” I began. “It’s better to start needling today.” “Okay.” That’s it? “Can you drench under cold water for two minutes?” I asked hesitantly. He raised an eyebrow, so I elaborated. “The cold water will calm the heat in your body and relax your brain.” Without a word, he pushed his chair back and disappeared into what I assumed was the bathroom. When he came from the shower, I was not prepared for what I saw. He looked breathtakingly handsome? beautiful? Stunning? Water dripped from his hair, droplets clinging to his bushy brows. His shirt stuck to his figure, outlining a body that seemed impossibly well-maintained for someone wheelchair-bound. How does he manage to look like this? God, I am a girl too. “Done staring?” His voice broke my trance. My cheeks burned with embarrassment. “I wasn’t staring,” I muttered, my voice barely audible Focus, Serena. You’re here for work—zip your thoughts and do the job. I watched as he rolled to the bed and pressed a few buttons. Instantly, the bed lowered itself, and his wheelchair connected seamlessly, allowing him to transfer without anyone's help. Wow! The life of the rich, I guess. I grabbed the needles and approached him, trying to steady my trembling hands. But the bed was lower than I expected, and as I leaned forward, I lost my footing. Before I knew it, I was falling. I landed right on top of him. My hands caught me just in time, pressing against the firm planes of his chest. My heart thundered, the sound deafening in my ears. But then I noticed something else—his heartbeat, quick and unsteady beneath my palms. His body radiated warmth, pulling me in like a magnet. My breath hitched as I realized just how close we were. His dark eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, the world around us faded into a hazy blur. “Comfortable?” he asked, his voice low and laced with something I couldn’t quite place. “I-I’m sorry,” I stammered, trying to push myself up. But before I could, his hand wrapped around my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. “Why didn’t you respond to my text?” he demanded, his voice a notch deeper, his gaze unwavering.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