เข้าสู่ระบบ“Alex… I’m dying.” Amara’s trembling voice over the phone should have shaken her husband, but the renowned Dr. Alex Spencer simply replied, “Buy medicine and let me work.” The world envied their marriage to the perfect doctor, but behind closed doors, Amara carried every pain alone. Until the day she received two verdicts: brain cancer… and a divorce she signed with her own hands. She walked away, whispering, “This is the last meal I’ll ever cook for you,” leaving Alex furious and unable to accept the truth. And when he rushed into a house decorated with flowers and candles, her smiling picture greeted him instead. She was gone. He fell down, weeping like a child. But something still told him, this was all a setup. That Amara was still alive and he won’t rest until he finds her. Is Amara truly still alive? Read to find out!
ดูเพิ่มเติมLIORA'S POV
"Wolfless bitch," I heard someone whisper as I passed and a soft giggle followed.
I kept my head down and continued toward the stairs. There was no point in responding. The words had lost their sting years ago because I had heard them all over and over again.
I had woken before dawn, to the familiar ache that had settled deep into my bones.
Yesterday's work which included scrubbing the grand hall's marble floors on hands and knees had left my shoulders burning and my lower back throbbing with that persistent pain that never quite faded.
Other omegas could let their wolf heal them but I had no such mercy.
I could not shift so I lacked the strength that most wolves possessed, hence the pain lingered in me like an unwelcome guest that refused to leave.
The air was cold and damp, carrying the musty smell of stone and earth, but I kept walking.
In the kitchen, I found my workspace already sabotaged. The cleaning rags I had folded so carefully the night before were scattered across the floor, some of them soaked in what looked like dishwater. My apron had vanished from its hook. Again.
"Looking for this?" Anna's voice came from behind me. I turned to see her dangling my apron from one finger, a smile playing at her lips.
Despite being my age, she was the head maid and undoubtedly beautiful, with glossy dark hair and fiery green eyes. "I found it in the ash bin. It's strange how things wander."
"Thank you," I said softly, taking it from her. The fabric was covered in soot.
"You should be more careful with your things, Liora." Her tone was sweet, but her eyes were cold. "Carelessness isn't befitting of someone in your... position."
I nodded and turned away, shaking out the apron as best I could. There was no time to wash it properly, the household would be waking soon, and Anna expected breakfast preparations to be well underway by sunrise.
Today was especially important.
The young master of the house was being celebrated for his enlistment in the army, and the house would be filled with guests by evening.
I found a clean rag and began wiping down the counters, falling into the familiar rhythm of work. It was getting harder each day, but I refused to let it go entirely.
"Child, you're here early." The old chef shuffled into the kitchen, her joints creaking audibly with each step. She was the only one who ever spoke to me with kindness.
"Good morning, Marta," I said, offering her a small smile. "Let me help you with that."
I took the heavy pot she was carrying, ignoring the sharp protest from my shoulders, and set it on the stove for her. She patted my hand, her weathered fingers warm against my skin.
"Good girl," she murmured. "Don't let them break that gentle heart of yours."
But gentleness felt like a luxury I couldn't afford, not when I was an orphan with no pack family to claim me.
The council member who owned this house, Lord Cassius and his wife, Lady Becca, had taken me in as an act of charity when I was seven, but charity only extended so far.
Because I was useful labor, nothing more.
The morning passed in a blur of preparations. I arranged flowers in the great hall, polished silver until my reflection stared back at me from every surface, and through it all, I felt eyes on me.
Julian, the young master, had returned from the academy two days ago, broader in the shoulders and harder in the jaw, but with that same unsettling intensity in his gaze.
More than once, I caught him watching me as I worked. When I passed him in the corridor carrying fresh linens, his hand reached out to touch my arm and it made my skin crawl.
"Liora," he had said, his voice low. "You've grown up."
I had hurried past, my heart hammering.
That afternoon, as I was carefully arranging Lady Becca's prized vase collection in the drawing room, Anna appeared in the doorway with several other maids behind her.
"Lady Becca wants those in the dining room for tonight," she announced. Asides being the head maid, Anna was also Lady Becca's second cousin, which made her untouchable. "Move them now."
I frowned. "But Lady Becca specifically said-"
"Are you questioning me?" Anna stepped closer, and I caught the familiar scent of her omega wolf, stirring low.
I swallowed and reached for the nearest vase just as Anna's foot shot out. I stumbled, and the vase slipped from my fingers, it hit the floor with a sickening crash, shattering into dozens of pieces.
Time seemed to stop as the painted birds lay fragmented at my feet,
"What have you done?" Anna's voice was loud, and within seconds, Lady Becca appeared, her face going white then red as she took in the scene.
"My grandmother's vase," she whispered, then her voice rose to a shriek. "You clumsy, worthless girl!"
"My lady, I…" I started, but there was no point. Anna stood behind her, eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
Lady Becca's hand connected with my cheek, the sharp crack echoing through the room. "Take this useless omega wolf to the dark room.. Perhaps a night alone will teach you to be more careful with things that are precious."
Two servants grabbed my arms and dragged me through the house, down into the bottom of the estate where the punishment rooms waited.
The dark room was exactly what it sounded like, it consisted of a windowless chamber, and it was empty except for the stone floor. They shoved me inside, and the door slammed shut before I could blink.
The lock clicked and footsteps retreated, then there was only darkness, and the sound of my own ragged breathing.
I didn't know how much time had gone but I sat against the wall, hugging my knees to my chest, trying not to think about the space closing in around me.
My cheek still throbbed from Lady Becca's slap and my body ached. And underneath it all was a familiar despair, threatening to swallow me whole.
I had almost dozed off when I heard the scrape of the lock turning.
A sliver of torchlight pierced the darkness and I squinted against it, my heart suddenly racing.
"Hello, Liora." Julian's voice was soft as he stepped inside, pulling the door closed behind him.
The torchlight cast dancing shadows across his face, and there was something in his expression that made every instinct I had scream danger.
He moved toward me, and I pressed myself back against the wall.
"Don't be afraid," he said, reaching for me. "I'm just here to comfort you. You must be so lonely down here."
His hands found my shoulders, pushing me down, and I realized with horrifying clarity what was happening.
I struggled, but he was stronger, so much stronger, and my body was no match for him.
"Stop!" I gasped, trying to push him away. "Please!”
He grinned, flashing white teeth. “Let me keep you company-”
The door burst open and Julian was suddenly yanked backward, thrown against the opposite wall with enough force that the stones shook.
A figure stood in the doorway, radiating an authority that made me shrink back. When the figure stepped forward, I recognized him immediately.
"Darren," I breathed, his name escaping my lips like a prayer.
The storm that followed Alex’s release shook New York to its core.For three full days after Dennis discovered the evidence Alex gave him, the station became a war zone—meetings behind closed doors, state officials going in and out, lawyers hovering like bees, phones ringing non-stop. But the moment the police finally released Alex Spencer, the entire city erupted. Angry protests gathered outside the precinct, people demanding answers from the justice system they trusted. The media tore into the police with merciless headlines, questioning their competence and their integrity.“How can a murder suspect be released?”“What happened to justice for Martins Cooper?”“Is New York police now controlled by powerful elites?”The noise grew louder every hour.Amara watched everything on TV with a hand pressed against her mouth. She didn’t know what to think. She didn’t know whether to be relieved that perhaps Alex truly wasn’t the monster she thought or terrified that she might still be wr
The chair screeched lightly against the floor as Amara pulled it out. She didn’t sit gently, she dropped into it, her breath sharp, her eyes burning like she was forcing herself not to explode. The interrogation room felt smaller with her inside, as if her fury had filled every corner. Alex sat opposite her, his hands cuffed and fixed to the metal table. The chains made a soft rattling sound whenever he shifted, but he barely moved.She couldn’t even look at him at first. Her chest rose and fell in slow, angry waves, the weight of betrayal clinging to her skin like thick fog. Then finally, her eyes snapped to his.“Tell me the truth,” she said, her voice trembling, not with weakness but with a rage she had held back too long. “Why would you do this to me?”Alex swallowed. His voice came out quiet but steady.“I didn’t do anything to you, Amara.”She laughed—a painful, disbelieving sound.“Don’t insult my intelligence,” she snapped. “Roland and Eva confessed. They mentioned you. You
The tension inside Spencer Group's executive boardroom was the kind that made the air feel heavy and oppressive, as if every breath carried physical weight that pressed down on the lungs. The long mahogany table, polished to a mirror shine, reflected the harsh fluorescent light overhead, until James walked through the double doors and silence rippled across the room like a swift wind cutting through tall grass.He took the seat at the head of the table—Alex's seat. The chair reserved for the President. The symbolic throne of power in this corporate empire.A bold declaration on its own, spoken without words.His expression was stone cold, carved from granite, his posture sharp and rigid, his fingers clasped together in front of him on the polished wood like a general ready to announce war to his troops. The senior executives exchanged worried looks across the table, their eyes darting between James and each other, searching for answers no one had. Everyone had heard about Alex's su
The sky was still grey with early morning fog when the police hotline rang. The officer on duty answered, barely awake, expecting another false alarm or noise complaint. Instead, the caller spoke quickly, breathlessly.“Good morning, officer. I—I think I just dropped off the man you people are looking for. The CEO… the one on the news.”The officer sat upright.“You mean Alex Spencer?”“Yes! Yes, him!” the taxi driver said. “I swear it’s him. Same face, same height, same hair. He told me to drop him at the old Spencer Group plant on Riverside Industrial Lane. That place is empty now.”Within minutes, a full SWAT team was deployed.The convoy sped through the city, sirens slicing the morning air.As they approached the abandoned property—an old manufacturing plant Spencer Group shut down years ago, the scene was chilling. Weeds curled up the cracked walls. Windows were broken. Rusted machinery stood in the courtyard like metal skeletons.Dennis stepped forward, signaling silently to
The hall was packed, every seat filled, every row glittering with the brightest minds and wealthiest names in global business. The closing ceremony of the summit always carried a certain grandeur, and today was no different — lights dimmed, cameras positioned, the stage dressed in gold accents. D
It had been two days since Alex returned from Houston, but to those who knew him well, it already felt like two months. The man who walked into Spencer Group that Monday morning was not the same man who left. The bitterness that once clung to him like a second skin had melted away. His tone, his
Saturday mornings were usually calm, a day the world slowed a little to catch its breath. But not this one. The television screens across the country buzzed with a single headline: “Alex Spencer and Wife Finalize Shocking Divorce — Spencer Group in Crisis.”On Global Business Network (GBN), the an
The room was still thick with the scent of sweat and perfume when Roland leaned over her again, tracing his lips down her shoulder. Eva breathed deeply, half enjoying it, half restless. He kissed lower, murmuring her name against her skin until she caught his head between her palms and whispered,






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