All Chapters of A Kiss For Every Bruise : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Gwen"Daddy please don't hurt mummy, please! Please daddy, I'm begging you, alright? Waaaah, daddy, mummy can't breath anymore!" I could barely hear my four year old daughter, Kayla, pleading for her dad to stop strangling me. The dararkness was slowly engulfing me, dragging me into its cold embrace.Then suddenly, a rush of air bombarded my lungs, almost choking me as I greedily inhaled it. The grim reaper wasn't interested in my miserable life anymore, I suppose. My coughing subsided, but my chest still heaved as though I had sprinted through a marathon.Gradually, my vision cleared and I looked up, only to see my mother-in-law sneering and my husband glaring at me. Kayla was a sobbing mess, the maid was cowering in a corner, shivering as if she's standing in the North Pole. "Come here baby," I extended my trembling hands, and my little girl threw herself into my arms. But my voice sounded like rusty metals grinding together. Thanks to my dear husband's strangulation.Kayla trembled

Gwen When I woke again, the sunlight was fading, slipping through the blinds in long golden lines. The room felt too clean, too white, too quiet. Somewhere, a clock ticked, steady and indifferent. My head ached, but my heart...my heart was worse.Dr. Higgins’ words wouldn’t stop replaying. “Children don’t listen to what we say. They learn from what we live.” A nurse came in to check my vitals. Her eyes were kind but wary, the sort of look people give someone they pity. “Your husband called,” she said softly. “He’s on his way.” My stomach twisted. I wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go.It did not take long. Mason never made an entrance quietly. The door swung open, and in he walked, immaculate shirt, faint smell of cologne, a bunch of crimson roses in one hand and a white pastry box in the other. “Kitty,” he breathed, relief painting his voice. “Thank God you’re awake.”He dropped the box on the side table and came to sit beside me, his eyes searching mine as if I were some fra

Gwen Morning came too quickly. I had not slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Kayla falling, crying, bleeding. Her tiny arm in a cast. Her voice calling for me. I kept watch by her bed until the door opened, and the air in the room turned heavy. Mason.He filled the doorway like a storm cloud in human form, expensive cologne, silk shirt, charming smile that never reached his eyes. “There you are,” he said softly, like we were lovers in some tragic film. “My poor Gwen.” My stomach twisted and I could not answer.He crossed the room, his movements fluid, obviously rehearsed. He bent down and kissed my forehead. “You shouldn’t be here, love. You’re not strong enough. You need to rest.” “I can rest here,” I whispered. “I need to stay for Kayla.”He smiled, but there was a flicker of steel beneath it. “I’ve already arranged for her transfer to City Hospital. Better facilities. Top pediatric unit. She’ll get the best care there.” My heart froze. “Mason, please...”He brushed his fing

Gwen's POV The light in the VIP ward was softer, diffused by the pale curtains that swayed gently each time the air conditioning hummed. I sat propped against a mountain of pillows, my arm, bandaged, a drip attached to the back of my hand. My eyes, hollow yet vigilant, remained fixed on the tiny reflection of myself in the water jug beside my bed. It was easier than looking at the closed door. Easier than thinking.Kayla was in the children’s wing now, under sedation. The doctors said she would be fine, though her small arm was in a fresh cast. My throat tightened each time I remembered the way my daughter had screamed, pleading for her father not to hurt her mother again.The door opened softly. A man stepped inside, tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a dark leather jacket that still held the faint scent of rain. His presence filled the sterile room like gravity. For a moment, neither spoke. He broke the silence first, voice low, steady. “Mrs. Burkely.” I swallowed hard. “Yes?”He walk

Adrian’s POV The city never truly sleeps, not when you have built it to bow before you.From the balcony of my study, Essexville stretches out beneath me, ribbons of light and shadows weaving through the skyline. I can hear the faint hum of the ocean in the distance, steady and indifferent. It used to calm me once. Now, it only reminds me of what the sea took, and what it gave back. Her face still lingers in my mind. Imelda Gwen Cruise. No… Gwen Burkely, as they call her now. When I saw her at the hospital earlier today, the world seemed to tilt off its axis. She was thinner, fragile, and had that tremor in her hands I used to soothe with a kiss. But it was her eyes, those gray eyes like storm clouds before rain, that made my chest ache. They were the same eyes that once looked at me with trust, with love… but this time, they did not recognize me. And the child, the little girl clutching her hospital gown, had my mother’s dimple when she frowned. Kayla, must be my daughter. Heck,