Semua Bab Love Under Fire: Bab 91 - Bab 100

Months laterAmberI've never been a big fan of Christmas. Those cheesy songs, little lights flashing everywhere, and that air of "forced joy" always irritated me deeply. And of course, after everything that's happened in the last few months, my contempt has only increased. Kris was dead. My father... well, I still couldn't even think about him without feeling a shiver of disgust.But there I was, months later, returning to Denver, where the snow insisted on covering everything with a cold, white layer. I spent days trying to pretend my life was normal — posting happy photos on social media, buying new clothes, and publishing as if nothing had happened. But inside, I was devastated. Guilt followed me like a shadow, and the antidepressant was the only thing that allowed me to put one foot in front of the other.I couldn't run away forever. It was Christmas, and, as always, I had to make my grand appearance at my parents' house. Even though every fiber of my being wanted to stay in New

Glory Over the past few months, my life has turned into a nightmare that I couldn't wake up from. The Morton house, which once seemed a symbol of power and wealth, was now just a theater of pain and despair, where the farce of happiness and stability played out before everyone. The "soap opera" of the three lovers, as I called it in my mind, was increasingly unbearable. And I, trapped in that plot, could barely breathe. Charles, the man I had married out of pure interest, continued to treat me with contempt, as if I were nothing more than his possession, something he used at his convenience. I remember how it all started. My choice to marry Charles, a powerful and influential man, had been driven purely by greed. The glare of money, status, and power – it all clouded my vision. But now, as time passed, I deeply regretted every decision I had made. Not a day went by without me wondering what would have happened if I had chosen Harald, the only man I ever truly loved. However, I left H

HaraldAs we all sat at the dinner table, I couldn't help the feeling of discomfort that washed over me. It was as if the pressure was increasing with each passing second. The atmosphere was tense, almost suffocating, and I knew that, at any moment, something could collapse. The truth is, I've always felt this way around Charles and Bruce. No matter what I did, it never seemed to be enough.And it was at that moment, as I looked around, that something inside me began to boil. I don't know if it was the arrogant way my father looked at me, as if I were inferior to him, or Bruce's sarcastic laugh, always waiting for me to fail. Something broke, and before I could control myself, the words were out of my mouth."Dad," I began, my voice firmer than I expected. "Why did you always look down on me? Why did you always treat me like I was nothing, while you glorified Bruce? What did I do to deserve this?"Charles stopped cutting the meat on his plate and looked up at me, as if surprised by my

NancyAs I watched the Morton family disintegrate before my eyes, I remained silent, appearing to be the submissive, irrelevant wife everyone expected me to be. But inside, my mind was buzzing with satisfaction. Finally, those masks were coming off. Seeing those dogs fighting each other as if they were beasts trapped in a cage was what I always wanted. Every hateful word and every look of contempt between them was a gift to me. My wish, always hidden, was that they would all fall and that they would destroy themselves with their own hands.Sitting there, with my face impassive, I watched the pathetic spectacle unfold. When Harald stood up and left with Candace, I felt a twinge of something that could almost be described as admiration. Not for Candace, of course. But Harald... there was something about him that set him apart from the others. He wasn't a real Morton, not like Bruce or Charles. And that always put him in a different position, one that Charles would never accept.Charles,

AmberI was there, smoking in the cold, hiding, trying to find some kind of relief in the smoke that rose and disappeared in the freezing Denver air. Everything has felt so out of control lately. The Morton family was falling apart before my eyes, and I, in the midst of this chaos, felt more lost than ever. Cigarettes had become a crutch, an escape. I knew it wasn't the best solution, but it was what I had at the moment.When I saw my mother approaching, my heart skipped a beat. Shit! She had seen it. I threw the cigarette on the floor, stepping on it, as if that would erase the evidence of my addiction. But there was no hiding it, not from her. I knew she noticed.I tensed, expecting some kind of scolding, or maybe even worse. Nancy was never a woman with sweet words, especially when she was hurt. And I knew I had hurt her deeply. What I did in the past—selling my own mother, betraying her trust—was unforgivable. But I had no choice – or at least that's what I told myself every night