Todos os capítulos de The Abandoned Bride: Capítulo 31 - Capítulo 40

Two days later, Elena began her new job at a beauty parlour in the heart of the city.The place was bright and elegant—walls painted in soft cream, mirrors framed with gold, and the faint aroma of jasmine lingering in the air. It wasn’t what she had imagined for herself—after all, she had once dreamed of designing buildings, not curling hair and cleaning brushes—but it was honest work, and she needed to start somewhere.She had woken early, dressed neatly in a pale blouse and fitted black trousers, her short hair tucked behind her ears. There was a calm determination in her eyes, a quiet promise to rebuild her life one step at a time.At first, things went smoothly. She learned quickly, kept to herself, and avoided unnecessary conversations. The customers seemed to like her gentle voice and steady hands. For a brief moment, she thought perhaps life was finally being kind.But life, it seemed, was never done testing her.That afternoon, while she was organizing beauty products behind t

A sleek black car screeched to a halt, its headlights slicing through the dim evening air. The door opened, and out stepped a figure Elena knew all too well—Damien. Her heart stuttered painfully at the sight of him. He was dressed impeccably as always, his tailored suit hugging his tall frame, his expression unreadable—aloof, noble, and cold. The wind tousled his hair slightly, yet nothing could soften the icy authority radiating from him. When his gaze landed on her standing beside Stephan, a faint, mocking smile curved his lips. Then came his voice—low, deep, cutting. “Elena,” he drawled, a cruel amusement glinting in his eyes, “you really are shameless. Fresh out of prison, and already parading around with another man. If you wanted him this badly, why bother crawling into my bed in the first place? Or do you just enjoy the thrill of sneaking behind backs?” Elena froze, her breath catching in her throat. His words struck her harder than any slap could. In his eyes, she was alwa

Damien’s grip was iron-strong, his jaw clenched as he forced Elena into the car. She struggled, clawing at his arm, but his hold didn’t waver. The more she fought, the colder his eyes became. He shoved her into the passenger seat, slammed the door, and started the engine without a word.Once, he would’ve lost his temper at the thought of her dirtying his precious car. Now, he didn’t even flinch. That indifference chilled her more than the storm outside.The sky grew darker, clouds swirling like ink over the horizon. A low rumble of thunder followed by a sudden downpour made the world blur outside the window. The rain came fast and hard, lashing against the glass in furious streaks. Elena’s chest tightened; stormy weather always dragged her back—to that night. The night her body was broken. The night her child was taken from her.In the cramped car, every drop of rain seemed to echo her heartbeat—loud, panicked, and full of pain. She turned toward Damien, voice trembling between fear a

The following morning, sunlight slipped weakly through the curtains, brushing against Elena’s tired face. Her eyes fluttered open, the dull ache in her chest reminding her of the stormy night before. Damien’s words still echoed in her head like a curse: “Since you’re so reluctant to give up the title, then enjoy it to the fullest.”She sat on the edge of the bed for a long moment, staring at the faint bruises on her wrist where his grip had lingered. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. No matter what she did, Damien would never stop raping her, he seems to enjoy doing that..Still, she needed work. She needed something—anything—to hold on to her sanity.After a quick shower and a cup of black coffee, Elena dressed in a simple beige blouse and dark trousers, tying her hair back neatly. She left the villa without alerting anyone, not even Ms. Maria, and took a bus into the city.For hours, she walked from one firm to another, her résumé clutched tightly in her hand. Every polite rejection

They all drove straight to the Salvatore family mansion. The moment they stepped into the vast, chandelier-lit living room, the atmosphere shifted—heavy, tense, and suffocating. Old Mr. Salvatore sat rigidly at the head of the room, his expression carved from stone. Avery sat close by with trembling shoulders, eyes glistening pitifully as Damien’s mother clung to her side, whispering comfort.The instant Elena entered, Mrs. Salvatore shot to her feet, pointing an accusing finger at her as if she were a curse come alive.“You lowlife! How could you be so vicious? What has Avery ever done to deserve such cruelty from you?” she shrieked, her voice echoing off the marble walls.Madam Salvatore’s fury only intensified.“Three years ago, you used your despicable tricks to steal Avery’s fiancé, and now you dare to harm her child? You are truly wicked!” she screamed, raising her hand to slap Elena’s face.“Stop.”The command cracked through the air.Elena braced herself for the sting of the s