Misdirection

Deceit: The act of making a person believe something that is not true. Our 26-year-old charming bachelor, Giovanni De Luca. One simply defined as a secluded blue Moon diamond, making it almost impossible for your paths to collide with his. He undeniably reeks of luxury after all the surname De Luca is an eye candy to the public and wealth itself. Unfortunately for him life decides to humble him in a rather debasing manner, as he finds his multi-millionaire company on the verge of bankruptcy forcing him into a rash decision. A decision which drags Rosalie Ravelosin into the picture. 21-year-old Rosalie Ravelosin struggles with the knowledge of being despised by both parents for reasons unknown to her and undoubtedly seen of less value by her co-workers. She's held captive by an emotional and financial struggle, and being dragged into yet another undesirable situation is something she truly isn't up for.

When will I see my fate? When will my dreams came true? You are my one and only wish... That will not happen... How can you recognize true love? Where did I gone wrong? Is your love deceitful? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Who is she?" My voice came out weak, foreign to my own ears. I despised the way it sounded--like a scared child-and I hated how he made me feel so small, so powerless. He let his breath out in a noisy sigh-a low, suffering sound, as if he was putting up with something beneath him. "Are we really doing this?" His voice was low now, tined with irritation. "It's not what you think. And even if it was, what are you going to do about it? You blind bat?" I froze, as tears slid down my face. I was just blind to him. A burden.

When we get too much involved in the act of pretending, we lose the idea of knowing the pretense of others. Isn't that how it works? We don't know the acts we do thinking good for the others even to the extent of hurting them to save them from major hurt will cause them to go through much more than we can think of. Sometimes it is not too late to correct the pretenses but sometimes it is late to amend them. Let's see whether it is too late or just in time.

The doors of elite research institutions aren't open to the unknown. But Rick Allen pulled Beth out of nowhere. He poured everything into nurturing her talent and promised her the world. The Allen family's compromise was simple: the Chief Young Scientist had to be Summer Belden—someone from their own social circle. From that day on, the words Rick said to Beth most often were, "Just wait a little longer." He told her to wait when her groundbreaking paper was published under Summer's name in exchange for research funding. He told her to wait again when the research she'd perfected over three years was packaged as Summer's signature work, paving the way to major awards. "The bigger picture comes first," he said. "The next Nobel Prize—I'll make sure it's yours." But when the paper credited to Summer—though written by Beth—was exposed for fabricated data, everyone reached the same conclusion: Beth, as a core member of the project, had tampered with the data to steal the credit. Locked in a glass-walled archive room, Beth looked at Rick standing outside the door. His gaze was ice-cold, full of disappointment. "Why did you touch the data?" he said. "You've ruined everything I've built." She remembered how he once told her, "In this world, yours is the only talent I truly recognize." He had promised, "I'll make sure achievements with your name hang among the stars." Now he stood with the others, judging her. He looked at her the way people look at a ruthless, ambitious fraud. When she was finally released, Beth dug her nails into her palm until blood ran down. This time, she wouldn't wait any longer.

To fulfill his young girlfriend Wendy Baker's dream of becoming vice president, my husband faked amnesia after a car accident and used it as an excuse to strip me of my position. One afternoon, I happened to overhear a conversation between them. Wendy sounded hesitant as she asked, "Aren't you worried Elaine will never speak to you again if you do this?" My husband did not seem concerned in the slightest. "I'm only letting you have some fun for seven days," he said casually. "After that, I'll just tell her my memory came back. What's she going to do, hold a grudge against someone who was supposedly sick?" My footsteps slowed. I heard every word. However, instead of exposing his lie, I quietly walked away. The next day, during a company meeting, my husband slammed his hand on the conference table and publicly declared that Wendy was his wife. He demanded that I leave the company and hand over every project under my management. The entire room fell silent. Every employee turned to look at me, waiting for me to stop his absurd behavior, just as I always had before. However, this time, I did not argue. I did not defend myself. I simply picked up the resignation agreement and signed it. What he did not know was that the deadline for the company's most important project was only seven days away. More importantly, the client recognized only one person as the project's lead and sole point of contact—me. Seven days later, things would not go the way he had imagined. Instead of getting everything he wanted, he would find himself facing crushing financial penalties, lawsuits, and possibly even jail time.