Lena Wellington’s life takes a very devastating turn when she is betrayed by her boyfriend and tricked into a one-night stand with billionaire Carson O’Connell. Struggling with feelings of being betrayed and the overwhelming burden of her mother’s life-saving surgery, Lena finds herself backed into a corner with no way out. Just when all hope seems lost, a glimmer of light appears in the form of an unexpected proposal: a marriage contract with Carson, the billionaire. Left with no choice, she must accept the contract to save the life of the person she cherishes most. Will the contract lead her to a road of new love and new hope? Or will she be led to a world of danger that threatens her very existence.
View MoreHey Lena, stop smiling foolishly. You have been like this all day long, it's almost frightening. Can you please cut that off? It scares me."
Lena, who had been all smiles before, frowned all of a sudden. "Eh! What nonsense are you saying? What do you mean by that? How can you say that I'm foolish, Ella? That's very cruel," Lena complained. "I didn't say you are foolish. I said that you are smiling foolishly," Ella argued. "What's the difference?" This time, Ella was speechless. "Alright, you won. Now tell me, what's making you all so happy? You won some lottery?" "Well... I think Richard is going to propose tonight," she said happily. "Tcht! That moron. What makes you think he's going to propose? Did he tell you himself?" "No he didn't. But tonight is our third-year anniversary and he promised to give me a special gift, something that I have always desired. Come on, think about it. What else have I desired all this while if not this?" Ella scoffed and decided not to comment. "Anyway, I'm running late. I have to go now, I'm not going to do the night shift today. Please cover for me sweetheart," Lena said, putting on a pitiable face. Ella's face darkened immediately. "Fine, I will allow it just this once. Just remember you owe me a favor," she replied after a moment of silence. "Thank you sweetheart." Lena happily hugged her and hurried off. Ella glanced at her clothes and shook her head helplessly. 'She's even dressed huh? I hope that son of a bitch doesn't do anything that will upset her again.' … A few minutes later, Lena stood in front of the Wellington Hotel. It was the venue Richard gave her and also the time. After looking at the table number he sent to her, she quickly went inside the hotel. She met one of the staff and showed her the table reservation. The staff helped her to the reserved table, but Richard was yet to arrive. She glanced at the time, tapping her fingers on the table. 'Why is Richard not here yet? What could possibly still be holding him?' Anyway, it was just a few minutes' wait so she didn't mind that much, or so she thought. Richard arrived forty minutes late. He was wearing a small smile on his face and quickly apologized. "I'm sorry for making you wait babe. I got caught up in the studio, you know, trying to wrap some shit up," he explained. Lena forced a small smile. 'Interesting, he delayed such a special day just to spend more time in the studio. Was it that important?' Richard was a musician—or so. He couldn't be considered much because he wasn't even well-known outside the studio. Lena had to admit, he didn't have any talent in music. She had listened to some of his songs, and they were all wack. But seeing how much work he put into his craft, she didn't dare tell him that to his face. She had even borrowed him money a lot of times. "No, don't worry. You don't need to apologize. I do understand how important your work is to you," she replied with a forced smile. Richard nodded happily and continued talking. Somehow, she felt Richard kinda wasn't the same tonight. He was still his talkative self, but somehow he seemed agitated or nervous. She couldn't put her hand on what it was exactly. He always avoided eye contact with her. It was very surprising. Somebody you have been with for the past three years—there was no way you wouldn't be aware if he or she started acting out of place, and that was exactly how he was acting now. "Are you sure you are alright Richard? Are you sick?" she asked worriedly. Richard just laughed and claimed he was a little bit tired from working in the studio and that it was nothing much. What he said didn't sync, but she decided not to comment, being a considerate girl. They ordered drinks and other refreshments as they continued to enjoy themselves. A few minutes after her first drink, Lena started feeling kinda funny. She couldn't describe how she was feeling at the moment. Her body felt like it was on fire. A strange heat coiled in her veins, spreading all over her body. Her vision blurred, colors melting together, and her breaths came in small, desperate pants. Lena swore this had never happened to her before. She wasn't an alcoholic, but she had drunk alcohol on some special occasions like this, so she was familiar with her body system and knew that what she drank wasn't enough to induce such a change in her system. She immediately knew that something was wrong. Richard came forward and asked worriedly, "Are you alright babe? Seems like you are drunk. Come let me take you to the room I had prepared before," he said, offering his arms. Even in her strange condition, she was still able to register what he said clearly. 'Wait, can it be that he purposely drugged me so he can have sex with me? No way that can be true, right?' Lena felt amused. She had been a chaste girl and hadn't allowed Richard to copulate with her. Originally, she had decided to be more open today and give in to Richard if he proposed to her today, but alas, Richard wasn't patient and had already resorted to underhanded means, greatly disappointing her. With the help of Richard, she was able to stand. She grasped his shoulder tightly and balanced her shoulders over his body. Maybe she was thinking a lot after all. Perhaps this was all an accident, and she was really drunk. But then, how she was feeling now couldn't be described as simply being drunk. At the moment, her mind felt fuzzy, and she could no longer think straight. She was completely defenseless. Unknowingly, she was resting her head on Richard's shoulder and didn't see him smile triumphantly. At last, he had succeeded. He had a look of pity when he looked at Lena, but then his face brightened up as if he thought of something. He could feel Lena's hot breath on his shoulder. Her breath grew hotter and hotter as she clung tightly to his body like a koala. Richard frowned. 'I need to hurry up.’The envelope was sealed in obsidian paper.No labels. No codes. No instructions except for a single embossed symbol on the flap: the old Echo crest split down the middle.Kaya found it tucked inside a locked drawer at the Geneva archives, flagged only by a tiny note in the internal system labeled:“To be opened only when Echo forgets why it was reborn.”It wasn’t signed. But the handwriting was unmistakable.Lena O’Connell.The envelope crackled slightly in Kaya’s hands.She didn’t open it right away.She walked it out to the garden, past the olive trees, past the bench where Amani once laid her ledger pages under the sun. She sat with the envelope in her lap and stared at it like it might vanish if touched too suddenly.Then, with slow fingers, she peeled the flap open.Inside was a letter.And a flash drive.She unfolded the paper and began to read.To whoever stayed,If you’re reading this, it means we lost something.Not everything. But something important enough for you to come l
The message came from a field steward in rural Chile one of the first to adopt the Living Ledger framework.The subject line read:“We Found One.”Attached was a scanned journal entry from a retired Echo agent Field Operative Marcos Ibarra, missing from the Doctrine, presumed dead since 2011.But it wasn’t a name that stopped Kaya cold.It was what the journal described.“Orders were clear. Civilian compromised op security. Lethal discretion approved. I gave the shot.They told me it saved the mission.But I saw her. Twelve years old. And I knew we failed her before she ever saw us.Her name was Thalia Youssef.”Kaya sat still for a long time.The name wasn’t just familiar.It was the origin of the Whisper Map.The woman whose identity had been rewritten.The myth who never got a memorial.She wasn’t just a ghost Echo had forgotten.She was a child Echo had killed.And someone had worked very hard to erase the evidence.Now that evidence was in Kaya’s hands.Not rumors.Not distortion
It began with a name.Thalia Youssef.A Syrian researcher once stationed at an Echo affiliate site during the Aleppo outreach years. She had vanished from Echo’s official records in 2015, her name flagged only once in an anonymized after-action memo as “CIV/ASSIST/DND” Civilian Assistant / Do Not Disclose.No final report. No obituary.And yet, two weeks ago, Kaya found Thalia’s name resurfacing as a myth.In a fringe conspiracy forum, she was mentioned as a double agent for multiple governments.In a declassified intelligence summary, she was listed as having been “formally exonerated” for crimes Echo had never accused her of.In a reconstructed humanitarian timeline compiled by an NGO in Jordan, her name was replaced entirely by someone who had never existed.Same acts. Different person.Same grief. Different face.Kaya sat in the Geneva archives with Lina, Jules, and two digital forensics experts from the Horizon oversight unit. A secure projector displayed a timeline with color-co
The conference table was a long stretch of reclaimed wood no microphones, no screens, no projections. Just twelve chairs, all filled.At the head sat Kaya Mensah, Echo’s youngest regional coordinator and its first field born policy lead.She wore no insignia.She preferred her old field jacket with the sleeves rolled up, a habit she picked up in the backstreets of Accra when she used to deliver untraceable med kits under fire.To her right sat Jules Andari, a former surveillance specialist turned ethics coordinator.To her left, Lina Rahm, who had once shut down a blacksite in Bucharest with nothing but public evidence and a journalist’s trust.Around them were analysts, translators, liaisons, and two community advisors from Echo’s independent oversight board.None of them had ever worked under Lena O’Connell.But they all carried her name like a compass.Kaya tapped her knuckle once on the table to bring the room into focus.“We’ve received six new inquiries from post-conflict zones
The message arrived without encryption.No signature. No code. No threat.Just a timestamp and a location.Ifrane, Morocco. 3 days. Come alone.Lena stared at it for nearly an hour.She didn’t forward it.She didn’t mention it in the network logs.She just printed it out, folded it twice, and slipped it into her journal.Then she went into the garden and watched the newest sapling for a long time.Carson found her packing that night.“You’re not asking me to come?” he said, watching her zip the side of her duffel.“No,” she replied. “But I’m asking you not to stop me.”He stood there, still as stone, then nodded once. “Because this isn’t about safety.”“It’s about completion.”Carson exhaled. “Just promise me something.”“Anything.”He held her gaze. “That you won’t let him make you forget what you've already let go of.”Lena paused. “I won’t forget. That’s why I have to go.”Ifrane was colder than expected.The town sat high in the Middle Atlas Mountains, tucked in pine forests and q
The wind carried the scent of jasmine and soil.Amani stood under the half-grown canopy of the youngest olive tree in Lena’s garden, her fingers tracing the edge of a leaf with quiet reverence. The air felt different here lighter, unhurried. After everything, Lena had expected Amani to remain restless. But instead, the younger woman had settled into a stillness that reminded Lena of water smoothing itself after years of storms.Ruth arrived just before noon, wearing soft denim and no badge.“I brought pastries,” she said, holding up a paper box.“Diplomatic offerings?” Lena teased.Ruth smiled. “Bribery, mostly.”They sat under the canopy on an old wooden bench, joined moments later by Amani, who carried three cups of tea and a thick folder marked:POST-ECHO STRATEGIC NOTES: PHASE ZERONo logos.No encryption.Just paper, ink, and potential.Lena opened the folder slowly.Inside were maps. Not of regions or political borders but of needs.One page simply said:Where Silence LivesAnot
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