Oh my God, Wylders…
PHEW! Raise your hand if you’re actually so freaking tired of hearing from HIM (Quietly raises hand.) I hate that guy, but listen… I didn’t think it would take this long, and now that it has we have to see it through. One last HIM chapter for now, okay? Pinky-promise🤞 (if you stay long enough I’ll put in an Oliver chapter, I know we’re all dying to hear what he has to say 🥹) But let’s take a second to rest together, and you tell me what the heck you think about this plot twist! (I’d say it’s pretty impressive and the author needs to be complimented profusely. Wink, Wink) Any other thoughts? Prayers? Hopes for our characters? As always I love you guys to the moon and back, and I see my readers who have gone through nearly 90 CHAPTERS with me???? How do you guys do it? I’m impressed. Stick around, there’s still SOOOOOO much story to uncover, and I’ll be here as long as it takes to unearth it. Love always, Rachelle Wylde.Leonel ~~~ All eyes in the room snap towards me, but I’m not having any of this bullshit. “Leonel.” Ava whispers, “what the hell is she talking about?” My heart thrums at the sound of her voice. I run a hand through her thick hair, just glad she’s mine again, safe again, “I have no clue, but we’re done here, baby. I’m taking you home.” “No you’re not!” I hear Riley yell, her calm demeanor shattering completely. The familiar cock of a gun fills my ears and I watch as every nerve in Ava’s body tenses, just like mine. Nothing about that sound right now can be good. Slowly, we turn to face Riley. Her eyes burn with hatred, her body now closer to us. Sure enough, she’s holding a gun, so close to my face I know there’s no way I’ll survive if she pulls that trigger. And she looks very close to pulling that trigger. My eyes flicker to Oliver and Evelyn, wrapped in each other by the battered door, and I hear nothing from downstairs where hundreds of people had just been. T
Hi Wylders ❤️ So, work has gotten really hectic for me, and trying to update in the middle of that is taking a toll on the quality of my work. While I’d love to update 2 chapters for ya’ll everyday, I'd hate to rush out something you wouldn't enjoy. I love writing for you, but feeling internal pressure to update while also tackling my journalism job (and we all know how journalism can be) is definitely affecting the quality of my work and my mental health. I love you guys so much, and I hate to do this, but I will take a two-day break to not only rest, but plan and see how I can make the book we all love so much better ❤️ Is there anything you want to see Ava and the gang get up to? Comment on it so that when I come back I'll definitely consider adding it to the main plot. I’m sorry, love you guys so much 🥹
Ava ~~~ “Sister?!” Everyone but me exclaims, looking at Riley like she's sprouted a second head. And honestly? She may as well have. She turns her blue-green eyes to Jax, who’d begun to stir, waking up. I jolt away from him, terrified he’ll wake up and press my body against his again. As if she's in my head, Riley turns to Leonel, that mix of hatred and relief she has reserved for him in her eyes as she gestures towards Jaxon. “If I were you, I'd tie him up.” Leonel looks between Jaxon’s stirring body and Riley, as if he can't determine who poses more of a threat, but in the end, he asks a question that has been on all our lips. “What about the Soireé?” “Your co-host is doing some serious damage control, sending people home and promising them an early free copy of his latest book as compensation for the “emotional trauma” of watching your father get arrested.” she does her little, bitter snort-laugh again, “As if any of these rich people read.” Still, it was more tha
Leonel ~~~ For a moment I forget about Riley and rush to Ava, clutching her unhurt cheek and looking at the cut on her other cheek. It's not deep, clearly a skin cut, but whatever the bastard did to her was still enough to hurt her. I curse, worry wrapping itself around my heart as I trace the cut. “Bella can fix this easily. It's okay, it's okay…” “Leonel.” She whispers softly, wrapping an arm around the one I have attending to her face, “Leonel, baby, please I'm okay.” I hear more people come into the room, the familiar shuffling of feet I assume belongs to Oliver and Evelyn. I'm proven right when I hear Evelyn gasp out; “What the hell was that with Alexander?!” “Better question… who the hell is this?” Oliver retorts, sounding mortified. Oliver. The kill switch. I gulp, turning to face Riley and our two friends. Oliver is draped over Evie, who is clinging to him for dear life, her dark blue eyes flitting between Jaxon, then Ava, then Riley, as if she can't d
Leonel ~~~ Riley Kincaid. When was the last time I heard that name? Since Jonathan Kincaid’s death, when I slashed his throat in their little living room as I thought everyone was asleep. It turns out everyone wasn’t. I remember hearing a little gasp and turning to find Riley’s blue-green eyes wide at me. She was only a little younger than my 23 (maybe 19) but the look she gave me that day was one you'd give someone far older, who was full of wisdom and still hadn't used it properly. My heart thrummed, not with fear, but rather regret. When Ava had asked me if I felt any guilt over killing Jonathan, I had said yes, but if I wanted to be brutally honest, I would have said I felt guilt only because I had ended his life in front of his daughter, and all she could do then was look between me and him, his blood soaking into their carpet. Finally, however, her wide stare narrowed, and she looked at me with a mixture of relief and understanding that calmed me “Good.” she’d
Ava ~~~ Alexander? Jaxon/James? The same company that my Leonel built from scratch? Oh no. You'd think that'd be the main thing that stuck out to me; watching Leoenl’s wide-eyed stare read the document a thousand times, feeling Jaxon press me further into him, but no, something else in that statement caught my attention. “The IronRoot Institute?” I utter, turning to face Jaxon with confusion creased in my eyes. “But that belonged to…” I pause, unsure. I was really young the first time I heard about that NGO, and one thing that time does is fade memories. But I'm sure about this… I think. Didn't that belong to Dad? Maybe if I allowed myself think about my dad more after he left me and mum I would more clearly know, but part of moving on from him for me was trying to forget every memory of him. Looks like I somewhat succeeded in my goal. I shake it off, remembering there are greater things at stake. Like Leonel’s business, like Oliver’s life. Like my safety. “What th