Feliza thought running away was an easy solution. Adopted by a power-hungry politician after her parents' tragic demise, Feliza found herself trapped in a life not of her choosing. So, when her adoptive parents chose to arrange her marriage with a specific man, Feliza had no option but to oblige. But that decision turned out to be her worst mistake. Shan Moretti, a man of immense power, wealth, and an insatiable greed, believed in possessing whatever he desired and never relinquishing what belonged to him. His character was marked by possessiveness, coldness, cruelty, and an unwavering dominance that struck fear into the hearts of those who crossed his path. People bowed beneath his feet, intimidated by the force he exuded. Getting dumped right after his wedding night was a massive blow for him, especially by the only woman who had captured his attention—his wife, his vixen. He was… enraged. For the next five years, Feliza stayed hidden. She wasn't just worried about herself but, more importantly, about her kids. Feliza was determined to protect her children from the trouble her husband brought. She promised to keep them safe and hidden, using whatever it took to ensure their well-being. But guess what? Fate had other ideas... Entangled in his rage, Feliza struggled to break free. Shan wasn't going to release her, not this time. The grip he had was unyielding, and Feliza found herself ensnared once more, facing a relentless force she couldn't shake off. Soon enough, Feliza`s life took a drastic turn as soon a she realized that the man she`s been avoiding her whole life wasn’t planning to get her off the hook this time around. After all, Shan`s anger knows no bound. And Shan wasn't about to let her go again. Not a chance. Not at all...View More
Chapter 4: Running Away4 YEARS LATER"Mom! Mom!"As I hear my child's excited voice, I'm reminded of the whirlwind of events that unfolded just a few years ago. It was a time filled with turmoil and uncertainty, and yes, perhaps there are moments I regret, but amidst it all, there are also things I'm grateful for. Despite the challenges and the trials that nearly broke me, I've come to see the silver linings in the consequences of my past missteps.Now, as I reflect on where I am today, I can't help but feel a sense of contentment. Despite the hardships, I've grown stronger and wiser. I've learned to appreciate the journey, with all its ups and downs, and I'm grateful for the person I've become."Mom!" The sound of my 3-year-old son's voice jolted me out of my reverie, his tiny hands reaching out for me. I found myself sitting in the chair at my desk, facing my laptop. Lost in thought, I hadn't even realized I was spacing out.For a moment, a dull ache weighed heavy in my chest, but a
A full seven days have passed since the jaw-dropping encounter with him. My thoughts are on constant replay, attempting to make sense of the mind-boggling revelation that Shan might be deep into the workings of the mafia. It's a mental maze I'm navigating, and the struggle is real. Sure, I haven't nailed down concrete evidence to back up my suspicions; my information arsenal is running on empty. Yet, the mere prospect of Shan's involvement with the mafia casts an ominous shadow, refusing to fade away. The unanswered questions and uncertainties continue to gnaw at the edges of my consciousness, leaving me restless and craving answers that seem to dance just out of reach. A week has slogged its way through, and I'm staring down the barrel of another seven days before I'm hitched to him. This whole deal—let's just call it what it is—sucks. The anticipation, the looming event, the whole shebang—it's like a never-ending loop of frustration. Can't shake the feeling that I'm hurtling towards
Chapter 2: Shan MorettiFeliza stood before her mirror, adjusting the pristine navy-blue dress she had chosen. Each movement sent ripples of anticipation and apprehension through her.Her reflection conveyed a mix of nerves and curiosity, the weight of the impending dinner etched across her face. Her hands trembled slightly as she fastened the buttons, her gaze flickering between her reflection and the ticking clock on her wall."It's okay... " she reminded herself."Feliza, dear? Are you ready?" Her mother's voice rang through her ear as she peeked into her room.Feliza forced a smile. "Yes, Mom.""I see. So, let's go?"They descended the stairs where her father awaited at the end of the staircase. "Come on, I will escort you."She gulped. She didn't know if she should feel grateful or saddened about the whole situation..."Please, behave yourself, Feliza." Her father's strict voice resonated through the quiet car. She flinched. "Do not bring shame to this family. We've already agree
Chapter 1: BetrothedFeliza sat at her cluttered desk, her eyes fixed on the pages of her textbooks. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow across her room. The air was filled with the faint scent of aged paper and the soft tapping of keys on her laptop. She was engrossed in her studies, the impending finals demanding her full attention.She stretched her back as she yawned. Exhaustion began to envelope her for the hours she'd spent studying. But she has to endure it, or else she might not pass her exam."This better be worth it," she uttered under her breath, her green eyes glaring at the papers she's reviewing. She's already in her 3rd year as a Journalism student.A knock on her door disrupted the tranquility of her study session. The maid's voice seeped through the door, informing Feliza of her father's urgent request for her presence."Why?" she asked, but the maid didn't say anything.Confused but curious, Feliza made her way to her father's office, the antici
PROLOGUEIn the lavish wedding venue adorned with flowers in every nook and an atmosphere buzzing with excitement, Feliza moved through the celebrations with a detachment that contradicted the occasion. It was supposed to mark her happiest day, a celebration of love and union, yet it brought her no joy. Her face, a stoic mask, revealed no hint of the expected happiness.Guests, dressed in vibrant attire, cast curious glances her way, yet their looks held no surprise or confusion. This was an arranged marriage, a union bound by tradition and family expectations. The absence of emotion on Feliza's face seemed fitting, an unspoken acknowledgment of the scripted nature of the event.“Smile, Feliza,” her mother said through gritted teeth as she smiled for the public. “Aren't you happy, or at least a bit grateful? Not only did we take you home 15 years ago and treat you as our own, but we also secured your future with a very promising man in this country.”Does she really have to mention th
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