She was abandoned before she could walk. Raised in a cold, forgotten orphanage and later tormented by the family who adopted her, she learned to survive with silence and scars. Love was a fairytale she stopped believing in long ago—until he looked her way. Rex Radford. Reckless, magnetic, and dangerously untouchable. The notorious heartbreaker and scandal-ridden heir of multi-billionaire Alfred Radford. His life was one endless party of fast cars, wild nights, and nameless girls—until her haunted eyes brought everything to a halt. He wanted her. But she disappeared. No one knew she vanished carrying his twins. Far away from the glittering chaos of the Radfords’ empire, she gave birth in silence—alone, terrified, and determined never to look back. Her world became about survival, her children, and burying the past so deep it could never find her. But fate had other plans. Six years later, she returns. Not as the broken girl they once ignored—but as a woman reborn. Fierce. Untouchable. Powerful. And with two children whose faces mirror a man who never knew they existed. Now the world whispers. The tabloids burn. And Rex Radford—cold-hearted, beautiful Rex—wants answers. But she’s not the same girl he once tried to break. And when jealous rivals, buried secrets, and twisted betrayals rise from the shadows, she’ll have to decide: Will she risk everything to let him into her life again—or protect her children from the man who once shattered her world? This is not just a love story. It’s a war between the past and the future, between pain and forgiveness, between a woman who rebuilt herself from ashes—and the man who unknowingly gave her the fire.
Lihat lebih banyakBut what neither Judith nor Martha noticed—Was that the door hadn’t fully latched shut when Rex left.And just down the corridor, in the private waiting alcove marked Authorized Personnel Only, a man sat still in a velvet chair, unreadable in the dim light.King.He’d frozen in the shadows like stone.Judith’s smirking confession, her theatrical tone, the way she delighted in her deception like a child spinning a web from glitter and venom—it poured through the thin crack in the door like spilled wine.The blood was real.But the victim?Crafted.He had come to check on her. Alone. Unannounced.He’d walked the polished floors of the VIP wing with quiet steps, his hands in his pockets, still dressed in the last remnants of the gala’s grandeur—black tie askew, cufflinks glinting under the hallway lamps. There was something restless in his gait when he arrived—half-worry, half-curiosity.Even the city—the mighty, roaring heart of it—had quieted into a hush. The VIP wing of the medical c
The sterile quiet of the hospital suite was broken only by the gentle hum of machines and the rhythmic hiss of the oxygen flow.Judith stirred.Her eyelids fluttered open with slow precision, as though even waking was a performance. A pale beam of early morning light filtered through the drawn curtain, softening the edges of the pristine room. The faint scent of antiseptic clung to the air, mingling with the sharpness of her own dried blood.She blinked once. Twice.And then she saw him.Rex.Seated beside her bed, still in his wrinkled tuxedo shirt, the buttons half undone, his jacket draped on a nearby chair. His posture was stiff, his jaw clenched so tight it could shatter teeth. He hadn’t shaved. His cufflinks were still on. And his hands—those hands—were resting on his knees, as if he didn’t know what to do with them anymore.He looked exhausted.But he was there.Exactly where she wanted him.“…Rex,” she whispered, her voice delicate with strain.He jolted slightly, like a man r
Chapter Title: No Tears LeftThe drive home was quiet.Alaric didn’t speak, and Annie didn’t ask him to. She sat beside him in the passenger seat, arms crossed, blood still faintly crusted under her nails, her reflection flickering in the black-tinted glass. City lights danced across her face, but none of them reached her eyes.She didn’t feel the cold.She didn’t feel anything at all.The moment they reached her front gate, Alaric pulled into the driveway and stepped out before the engine had fully stopped. He opened her door wordlessly, offering a hand, but Annie stepped out on her own.Her heels touched the stone path like ghosts.“I’m calling Roxie,” Alaric said as they reached the porch.“You don’t have to.”“I’m not asking.”She didn’t argue.Inside, the lights were low. The air smelled faintly of jasmine and linen. Annie kicked off her shoes at the door, her steps soft on the hardwood as she walked into the living room, arms wrapped around herself like armor.Alaric followed, h
The washroom’s silence was replaced by chaos the moment the doors closed behind Alaric and Annie. Behind them, Judith lay sprawled across the marble floor, pale as the porcelain sink, blood still leaking in fine threads across her wrist and pooling in the folds of her designer gown. Her breathing was shallow. Her eyelashes fluttered like moths against her cheeks. “Rex,” King said lowly, eyes sharp, “we have to move now if we want to make it tie hospital on time. Now.” Rex didn’t answer. He was already on his knees, scooping her fragile body into his arms. She weighed less than he remembered. Or maybe he was stronger than he’d ever needed to be. The crowd cleared without needing to be told. Judith whimpered, barely conscious, head rolling into the crook of his shoulder. Her blood had already begun to soak into his shirt. King moved ahead, calling out for the valet, shouting for the car. He didn’t care that they were the elite of the elite. Tonight, nothing mattered except th
The tension in the washroom had calcified. It clung to the marble walls, to the cracked silence, to the blood drying in thin, rust-colored lines across Judith’s wrist.Everyone stood frozen — not from concern, not from compassion, but from something darker: certainty.Certainty that Annie Yin — the woman who stood in the center of it all, angelic and bloodstained — was guilty.Until a new voice tore through the corridor like lightning.“Move.”The footsteps that followed weren’t rushed, but deliberate. They struck the tiles in a rhythm that commanded attention — slow, firm, unapologetically confident.It was not the walk of someone arriving late.It was the entrance of someone who belonged.Alaric Devereux.His presence moved like an omen. Before anyone saw him, they felt him — a sudden vacuum of nonsense, of doubt, of pretension.And then he stepped through the doors.He was tall, sharp-jawed, dressed in midnight — a tailored suit cut so clean it looked like it might bleed if touched
The heavy double doors burst open.A gust of cold air from the corridor swept into the room, fluttering the gauzy curtains at the far end and carrying with it the scent of champagne and garden roses from the grand ballroom. But inside this private washroom — sterile, elegant, cold — it might as well have been the opening of a tomb.King was the first to enter. His tall frame cut through the air like a blade, flanked by two high-ranking members of the elite circle — men and women who were more accustomed to whispering behind velvet ropes than responding to crises. Their expressions were tight with alarm, eyes scanning quickly, sharply.And behind them, Rex Radford.He entered like a storm long overdue — broad-shouldered, composed only in appearance, with the eyes of a man who’d tasted ruin and come back thirsty for more. His presence darkened the threshold. The lights above seemed to dull as he stepped in.Their polished shoes echoed across the marble, steady and severe.And then—They
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