Semua Bab She, His Enigma: Bab 51 - Bab 60

As the wave of orgasm overwhelmed her, Ellaya’s body went limp, her mind blanking from the sudden rush of euphoria. The passion between them had spread like wildfire—raw, consuming—leaving them breathless and aching for more. Iden stood and unfastened two buttons of his shirt, his eyes still locked on hers. But before he could continue, a sharp ringtone shattered the moment. The sound echoed in the otherwise quiet room, clashing against the rhythm of their rapid breath. His jaw clenched, knuckles whitening as he gripped the phone. He stared at the screen, sighed heavily, then muted the call. Perching on the edge of the bed, he cupped Ellaya’s flushed face and gently kissed her forehead. “I need to take this call. I’ll be back, okay?” She nodded softly, lips parted, eyes still dazed. Iden stood and disappeared into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind him. The room—moments ago filled with heat and breath and whispers—now seemed too large, too quiet. Ellaya's fingers tremble

They threw her onto the cold floor and slammed the door shut behind her. Ellaya scrambled to her feet, her breath ragged, panic pulsing in her throat. She rushed to the door and pounded on it with both fists, the echo of skin on wood harsh and hollow. “Let me out!” she screamed. “Please—open the door!” But the heavy wooden frame stood unmoved, a wall between her and the world beyond. Her palms slid down its surface until they met the icy stone floor. Desperation thickened in her lungs. Her forehead pressed against the door, and a choked sob escaped her lips. Tears carved silent trails down her cheeks. She slid down, her back resting against the door, her knees pulled to her chest. The silence was deafening, broken only by her ragged breaths. And in that silence—his face. Iden. His eyes, sharp and unreadable, piercing into her soul. The way his hands lingered on her skin. The nights under foreign stars. They had met under the strangest of circumstances—bound by fate, tor

As Ellaya descended the staircase, her gown trailing like a silver river behind her, she made herself a vow. She would defy fate. fate had betrayed her—left scars where hope once lived—but this time, she would fight. She would push against cynicism, against every voice that told her she was unworthy. Even an “ugly face,” as they'd so cruelly called her, could carry a heart set ablaze. She came to a stop beneath the chandelier’s cold light, the air thick with perfume and false smiles. Before her stood the people she'd once called family—Mr. and Mrs. Stone—now reduced to puppeteers, tugging her strings for profit. They didn’t see her. Not really. Not as a daughter. Just a product. A machine trained to earn. Her chest tightened. Her lips pressed into a bitter smile. “You look perfect,” her mother’s voice cut through the haze, her manicured hand brushing Ellaya’s arm. “Let’s go. They’re waiting.” Ellaya nodded mutely, her heart drumming beneath the layers of satin and pain. Inside the

Iden laughed looking at her face filled with anxiety. "Laaya, stop worrying about other people; nobody is going to bother us here." " They don’t live here with us?" Iden drew her in closer, put his head in her neck, and took a deep breath. Her face twisted as his hot breath tickled her bare skin. "Then where do they live?" She repeated her question. "Shh, not a word …" He silenced her whispering in her ear, putting a finger to her lips. He turned her, facing toward the mirror, a beautiful woman with purple eyes and radiant pink skin, hair tied in a bun staring at her. The man behind her was the most attractive man she had ever seen. He was incredibly attractive despite only having a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a low-hanging tie, along with black trousers. His words reverberated through the empty room as she nodded her head and grinned at him. "Perfect" after a pause he spoke again looking at his phone "You are the most gorgeous bride I have ever seen, he said

It was early morning in the thick of summer, and Ellaya stirred beneath the thin sheet, blinking into the sunlight that sliced through the curtains and spilled like fire across her face. The room smelled of brewed coffee and clean cotton, and somewhere nearby, a soft clinking of porcelain teased her half-awake senses. “Good morning, love,” came Iden’s voice, warm and familiar. He leaned down to press a quick kiss to her cheek before setting two steaming mugs on a tray beside the bed. He was already dressed—charcoal-grey suit, crisp collar, tie knotted with precision. His dark hair was slicked back, and his presence carried the scent of expensive cologne and morning resolve. Ellaya squinted at the clock on the wall. “Oh no… it’s already 8:30?” She shot upright, hands pressed to her face in dismay, her tousled hair falling over her eyes. Iden’s brows drew together as he studied her puzzled expression. “What’s wrong?” She shook her head quickly, brushing her hair back. “Nothing. Just