How Does Damselle In Distress End?

Elena found out the harshest of ways that love could not be forced. For Twelve years she loved Damien ,but he repaid her love by sending her to the deepest part of hell. In her darkest moments, she was forced to watch Damien shower love to some other woman. Years later, she comes back from her pieces and vows to serve everyone a piece of their own medicine. But for how long?

When Damian Voss lets his wife walk in on him kissing his first love against their kitchen island, he believes he's finally free — done with the quiet woman he married in secret, ready to claim the powerful public life he always wanted. What he doesn't know: the woman he just handed divorce papers to carries his child, his most dangerous competitor's personal vendetta, and a surname worth ten billion dollars that was stolen from her before she could walk. For three years, Lila loved him in secret — no announcements, no red carpets, no credit. She covered for his late nights, ignored the suspicious texts, and carried champagne and silk to a penthouse where she planned to give him everything. That moment arrived on their anniversary. He was already kissing someone else when she walked through the door. She signed. She slid the papers across the marble. She walked out without a single tear — and picked up a phone call that changed the shape of the world. Some men confuse silence for weakness. Some women are only quiet because they haven't yet decided what to burn. And some divorces don't end a story — they start one, with a crown, a rival, and an empire rebuilt on the ashes of everything he thought he owned.

One scorching night was all it took for the ruthless billionaire…Damien Voss to haunt Isabella Barnes' dreams. He took her body, shattered her trust, and vanished, leaving her with scars deeper than the secret she buried alone. Now, on a Christmas getaway meant to heal her, Isabella wakes in chains. Her captor? The same man who ruined her. Damien mistakes her for the daughter of his sworn rival and vows to break her as leverage in his brutal corporate war. But as days bleed into nights of dark pleasure and forbidden surrender, the truth unravels: he's been hunting those unforgettable eyes ever since that fateful night. And he has no intention of letting her go. Trapped in his luxurious prison, Isabella fights the pull of his possessive touch. But still, anger and pain burns in her veins... until his obsession awakens something twisted and intoxicating in her own soul. Once he claims her, escape isn't an option…she might not even want it. In a world of betrayal, deadly rivals, and unrelenting passion, will she shatter her captor when she discovers that he’s the same man that has haunted her dreams for years...or become his forever?

The day I learned the truth about my husband, Duke Alistair, and his adopted sister, Liana, I left. I abandoned my title, my home, and returned to my father's palace. A year passed. Then came news of chaos in the duchy. The servant Alistair sent spoke with desperation, “Your Highness, the Duke and your son are lost to reason. If you don’t return, I fear they will burn everything to the ground.” I looked at the blood I'd coughed onto my handkerchief. I nodded. "Fine. I'll go back." The doctor had already given me my diagnosis. Consumption. I had only a month left to live. So I went back. And I played the part of the perfect duchess. I no longer demanded Alistair's loyalty. I even found him three new mistresses who looked just like Liana and sent them to his bed after he had sent her away for me. I no longer made Damian study the arts of statecraft and not forced him to master his courtly duties. Instead, I supported his ridiculous dream of joining the Expeditionary Force. I took the pain they gave me. I wrapped it in the "understanding" they always craved. And I served it back to them cold. But it drove Alistair mad. He threw out the mistresses. He crushed me in his arms. His kiss was a punishment. He bit my lip, drawing blood. "I sent Liana away! What more do you want from me? How can I earn your forgiveness?" Damian cried and clung to my arm. "I'll never call Aunt Liana 'gentle' or 'beautiful' again! Mother, please. Just stop." They didn't understand. I wasn't making a scene. I just wanted to live out my last month in peace. And then, I wanted to die.

Rosalia's world shattered the day her family was hanged for treason. She could still hear the snap of the ropes, the gasps of the crowd, and the queen’s satisfied smile as her father, mother, and siblings were left dangling lifeless in the square. She hadn’t even had time to grieve before they claimed her. Sold like property to the very family that had condemned them. Thrown into the vipers’ den, Rosalia knows her life is forfeit. The queen despises her, whispering promises of the noose that will one day wrap around her neck. But her fate takes a darker turn when the crown prince, Damien Vipont, takes her under his wing. Not out of kindness, but to claim her as his plaything. Damien is cold, cruel, and relentless. He demands her obedience, taunts her weakness, and leaves her trembling under his touch. To him, she is a pawn to ruin, a conquest to own. But Rosalia burns with a will to survive and a hunger for vengeance against the family that stole everything from her. Trapped in the prince’s grasp, Rosalia walks the fine line between defiance and submission, knowing that one wrong step could cost her everything. Yet the fire between them is impossible to ignore—a dangerous, destructive force that threatens to consume them both. She hates him. She needs him. But most of all, she plans to destroy him. If he does not do it first

In the final year of my bond with vampire lord Saul, the curse of our pact struck, and I was overwhelmed by agony, but my lord was nowhere to be found. He had gone out. He left me to suffer. Alone. When the door finally creaked open the next morning, I looked up through bloodshot eyes—hope flickering like a dying candle. But he wasn't alone. He carried an unconscious woman in his arms, her head resting against his chest like she belonged there. Ignoring me as I curled up on the floor in pain, he first carried the woman to his room and called the old butler anxiously. "Jacinda's passed out. Hurry! Check if she's all right!" The old butler cautiously pleaded on my behalf, hoping our lord could save me first, but Saul frowned and interrupted: "Jacinda is in danger, and I have no mind to drink her blood now. She just needs to pull through herself. Believe me, she won't die. Right now, the priority is to save Jacinda." A frown and a glance in my direction was his only response to the old butler's desperate plea. With my only hope shattered, I clenched my teeth and slashed several long wounds on my arms and hands to drain blood for self-rescue. After a long period of weak convulsions, the curse of the pact finally ended. I lay in a pool of blood, sending a message with my last faint consciousness. "I promise I will leave him."