Todos os capítulos de Running Away From The Wicked CEO: Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 5

Hannah povIn the gilded world of New Orleans elite society, I was meant to be treated like royalty—the rightful heiress to the multimillion-dollar Vance empire. But behind the towering wrought-iron gates of the Vance Estate, my life was anything but glamorous. I was practically a glorified maid in my own home."Look at you, lingering around like a shadow," my stepmother Janet sneered one afternoon as she tossed a heavy leather binder onto the kitchen island. "You have your mother’s pathetic blue eyes and that infuriating smile. It’s a miracle your father can stand looking at you."My father, Carlos Vance, had never forgiven me. My mother died during childbirth, and in his overwhelming grief, he blamed me for taking the love of his life. The high-society tabloids ran wild with the story, branding me as the curse that shattered the Vance legacy."Why are you standing there gaping, Hannah?" Janet barked, snapping her fingers sharply.The catering staff left the ballroom in a sta

Hannah povMy grandmother used to sit me down whenever I felt crushed and hopeless, looking into my eyes with gentleness."You're going to be okay, Hannah," she would whisper. “You have your mother's green eyes, her grace, and her spirit. You are special, my sweet girl."I wanted so badly to believe her. But after losing my mother at birth, learning what severe abuse meant before my tenth birthday, and being systematically stripped of my life by my stepbrother, "special" felt like a cruel joke. My grandmother had been the only person in that cold estate who protected me. But when my stepmother, Janet , manipulated my father into locking her away in a private care facility, I lost my only ally.Sitting in the grand, wood-paneled boardroom of the Vance Conglomerate three weeks after my escape, my grandmother’s words echoed faintly in my mind.Across the long mahogany table sat Bernard Vance, the billionaire patriarch and founder of the company. Standing quietly behind his chair, a

James povThe morning chill draft drifted past the sheer silk curtains, filling the expansive master suite with a cold, oppressive emptiness.I reached out blindly across the high-thread-count sheets before slowly opening my eyes. She wasn't there.It was the morning after our scheduled bi-weekly encounter, and usually, without fail, Hannah would still be curled up beside me. She had a habit of softly pressing herself into my side in her sleep, holding onto me as though she were terrified the monsters of her past would drag her back into the dark. When I awoke on those mornings, her delicate forehead would be resting against my chest, her soft hair tangled across my arms, and her faint vanilla perfume clinging to the pillows.Today, the bed was cold. Her scent was completely gone.A strange, unsettling weight settled in the pit of my stomach as I sat up, running a hand through my hair."Hannah?" I called out, my deep voice sounding unnaturally loud in the quiet room.Silence answe