Behind The Magnolia Tree

[Completed] When widow Magnolia De Solange was gravely wounded and saved by the Duke of Salicera, she could not help but imagine what a life of comfort and safety would mean for her and her son. She knew that it was only wishful thinking. But when she was ready to leave the duke's house, he made her an offer that she could not refuse.

*Synopsis* In a world where social hierarchy and class distinctions are rigidly enforced, a forbidden romance blossoms between Freye a young slave, and Angus, one of the sons of the plantation owner. Their relationship begins as a secret affair with Angus exercising his privilege and Freye being forced into a situation she can't escape. Freye would spend her days as a slave, working tirelessly under the scorching sun and the oppressive life, and her nights warming the bed of the arrogant young master. Freye could not describe their relationship nor could she refuse the very handsome man. Angus is as intimidating as he is calm, as devious as he is pompous. However, as they navigate the complexities of their feelings for each other, they begin to challenge the societal norms that govern their lives. Especially when threats arise against their secret affairs. When Freye becomes pregnant, Angus is torn between his passion for his unborn child and his deep-seated prejudice against the child's heritage. As the pregnancy advances, Freye finds her own strength and agency, refusing to be bound by the expectations of those around her. As they face the consequences of their actions, Freye and Angus must confront the harsh realities of their world and the secrets they've kept hidden. Will their love be enough to overcome the obstacles in their path, or will the societal norms and expectations tear them apart? This novel explores themes of love, power, and identity, delving into the complexities of human relationships and the ways in which society can suffocate us.

"I’ve thought it through. I'll marry the Ashford family’s comatose heir." Rhea Vaughn leaned against the doorway of the Vaughn family’s old residence, her red lips curving into a sharp, mocking smile. The cigar in Victor Vaughn’s hand nearly slipped and fell onto the priceless Persian carpet. He jerked upright from his leather chair, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes stretching open as his face lit up. "Rhea, you’ve come around? That’s wonderful! The Ashfords have been pressing hard. You’ll need to marry into Harborwyn within two weeks. What style of wedding dress do you like? I will have someone order it for you—" "That’s it?" Rhea let out a cold laugh. "I’m taking your beloved illegitimate daughter’s place and marrying into that family for you, and you’re not going to show anything in return?"

He was slipping...slowly and ever so surely, he started letting go of his sanity. Inside the Willow Tree, you will find a man in slumber, and you would wish it had stayed that way.

On New Year's Eve, my husband, Max Davis, took me to a private dinner hosted by a big industry player. We had barely made our way around the room when a strange woman suddenly shoved me into the pool. When I insisted on checking the surveillance footage and calling the police, Max firmly held me back. He warned me to "remember my place" and not embarrass him in front of everyone. In the brief time I changed into another gown, I returned to find that same woman perched on my husband's lap, her red lipstick leaving traces on his collar. "Max, you're right! That nasty scar on her stomach really does look like a centipede. It's so hideous!" She giggled with mock innocence, adding, "It's been so fun messing with your wife. Next time, can I slap her when no one's looking?" Meanwhile, Max gazed at her like she was the only woman in the world, gently tracing his finger over her nose. "Of course, you can," he replied, eyes still locked on hers. "I'll even tie her hands behind her back for you."

In the fifth year of my spiritual practice, my phone suddenly exploded with messages. [Aria, why aren't you replying? Are you really that petty?] Puzzled, I opened Messenger, and froze. My cousin, who never seemed to measure up to me and always went out of her way to oppose me, was getting married, and she expected me to attend. "Sorry, I've been busy lately. I won't be able to make it," I replied politely. However, my courteous response only fueled their ridicule. "Stop pretending! You haven't kept in touch with your family for years. Are you too embarrassed because your life is such a mess?" "She won't even come to her own cousin's wedding? How heartless!" "Let me guess, the real reason she can't come is she can't afford a wedding gift." One cutting remark after another appeared, until Betty Stewart stepped in, feigning concern. "Come on, don't be so harsh on Aria. We're family, after all." "If she's really struggling, I could ask my husband to help her get a cleaning job." Then she sent me the digital invitation, the gold lettering gleaming. When I saw the groom's name, my pupils constricted in shock. Joseph Clark? Wasn't he the short-lived husband who had spent three years sucking up to me just to extend his life?