MasukTHIS IS A DARK ROMANCE FEATURING DARK CONTENT AND MORALLY AMBIGUOUS CHARACTERS. Her new life is a lie. Her fiancé's a liar. And the supposedly dead woman on her couch? She's the worst kind of truth. **** Claire thought she had it all: a perfect fiancé, a beautiful home, a successful career. Until she finds out her relationship is built on a decade of deceit and secrets. Her supposedly dead rival, the woman her fiancé, Levi, claimed to have grieved, is back—and the worst twist of all? She's the same woman who raised Levi as his stepmother. Desperate to escape the fallout, Claire drives headlong into the night, only to crash her car and be saved by a mysterious stranger. He claims to be Zeke her long-lost lover, the man she shared a passionate past with, a life she has no memory of. Now, Claire is trapped between two men: Levi, the manipulative but tormented fiancé, who is fighting desperately to prove his love and earn her forgiveness, and Zeke, the stranger who feels dangerously familiar and holds the key to the woman she used to be. Which lie will save her, and which truth will finally break her?
Lihat lebih banyakCLAIRESo, the wedding is today.Violet finally did it. She cut me off from everything. No Wi-Fi, no cell service—she basically wiped my existence off the map the second she took my phone. She promised I’d get it back after I say "I do," which is just her fancy way of saying I’m her prisoner until the papers are signed.And Zeke? Nothing. Radio silence.I hate to admit it, but I actually expected him to do something. I spent the last few days jumping at every tiny noise, thinking maybe he’d finally show up and bust me out of here. I didn't care about being a damsel in distress or whatever—I just needed a way out. But he didn't come. He just left me here to rot in a house full of people who treat me like a mannequin.Now, I’m standing in front of a mirror, staring at a version of myself I don't even recognize. Cassie is standing right behind me, acting like the world’s most annoying project manager.She’s barking orders at the stylists, making sure every single hair is plastered into p
CLAIREI'm back in the same shithole of a room, staring at the ceiling and contemplating whether to call Zeke or not.If I call him, he'll come sweep me off my feet and save me like the damsel in distress that I am, but the fight won't change; nothing will ever change. I'm bound to Violet by blood, by contract, by the invisible leash she’s spent twenty years tightening around my neck until I forgot how to breathe for myself.It makes me feel like everything—every fight, every argument—is all pointless. She wins every round even though sometimes it doesn't seem like it. Like when Zeke put her in her place; she bounced back, didn't she?I toss to the other side of the bed, exhausted from staring at the ceiling, but then my phone rings, sending my heart racing. I jerk upright and grab it like a lifeline.It’s Zeke.My stomach does this annoying little flutter that mocks my 'independent woman' routine. I was so adamant about not calling him, yet seeing his name on the screen feels like so
CLAIRE The answer is indeed staring at me right in the face. Violet. She's by my bedside, face hovering over me, her hand above my head and her presence pinning me down. His expression is as blank as a white sheet, like she wasn't a person but the money in her account. “You're awake,” she comments, finally blinking. “I wish I wasn't.” I spit, my head throbbing like a war drum. “You’ve been reckless, Claire,” her voice is calm as she straightens up. “I made you who you are. Every flashbulb, every cover, every cent in your name—I built that. And yet you’re ready to betray all of it for a man who isn’t worth the breath you use to scream his name.” She’s talking about Zeke. I bet her voice won't be this sharp when she sees him. “I didn't ask for it, Miss Goddess, or whatever you call yourself now,” I hiss, finally pushing myself up against the headboard. She grips my shoulder and shoves me back. “I'm not done talking.” “Then be fast about it.” My voice rises, surpri
~~CLAIRE~~ Breakfast is boring. That's if you're having it with the Zeke who's hiding something. I stab into my bacon, eyeing Zeke while glancing at my phone as the screen lights up. My phone has been vibrating for the last two minutes. Persistent, buzzing like an insect on the wooden table. I don’t even reach for it. I don't want to see the caller ID. Why bother? Everyone I know is a goddamn traitor. Violet and Robert played house while they sharpened their knives. Cassie sold me out like I was yesterday’s trend. Steven handles me like a product rather than a person. Even Zeke—the man currently pretending to be my personal chef—is just a gatekeeper holding the keys to my own head. And Levi? Don't even get me started on the man who tried to put a ring on my finger while his dead wife’s ghost was still doing the laundry. I stab another piece of bacon, the metal of my fork screeching against the ceramic plate. The sound is a perfect match for the headache forming behind my
CLAIRE “What’s with you?!” I snap, yanking my wrist back from his grip. My insides are vibrating. “You don't expect me to remember overnight, do you? I literally just walked in here three minutes ago because I’m losing it! You think you can just… assault my mouth and suddenly I’m going to recall o
CLAIRE “Sage?” Zeke frowns, scanning her face as if trying to measure up what his eyes see to what his brain recognizes. The so-called sage smiles, more like a grimace, breathing hard and ragged. Her face was still pressed to the floor. Zeke releases her, turns his back to her, and rubs his t
CLAIRESage twists her lips again, silent.Seeing this, well, I don’t blame Zeke; he exploded, storming over to her, his fists clenched at his side.I rush in on instinct, or just pure concern. I finally found the one person who could beat my mother, and I'm never letting go of my only lifeline.So
CLAIRE I wake up to see Zeke at the other side of the bed. My head is pounding, mostly from the sheer volume of truth my brain had been forced to ingest. The last thing I remember is the splintering glass, his arms tightening around me, and the shattering realization that I might be a killer. Di












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