Cerita Pendek & Novel Bias Forced Love

In the eight years Mom worked as a maid at the Whitmore estate, I only went there seven times. She always thought I hated her boss's son, Ryan Whitmore. Then one day, she came home with boxes of leftovers. "How can a woman be that shameless? Ryan's getting married, and she still won't let go. "She must be smart, though. After all these years, Mrs. Whitmore still hasn't figured out who she is. "She said once she finds her, she'll ask the girl's parents what kind of daughter they raised." Mom kept talking, not noticing how pale I'd gone. That night, I broke up with Ryan at the condo. I cried until I couldn't anymore. Ryan said nothing. When my tears finally ran dry, he slipped a cigarette between his lips and let out a cold laugh. "Break up? Tanya Tayler, you think we're dating? Did you really think I was dating you? "Don't forget who you are. You're just the maid's daughter. I am just messing around. "Walk out of this room tonight, and I'll tell everyone the truth. "I'll tell them you did everything you could to seduce me."

In the tenth year of being held captive by Kevin Hemsworth, he lost his memory in a car accident. When he woke up and saw my bloated figure, he frowned in disgust. "Who are you?" Recalling his past threats, I was terrified this was just another test. So I told him the truth that I had been by his side all these years. He laughed sarcastically. "Don't joke around. You're not my type." Laura Powell, my friend who had secretly loved him for ten years, pointed at me and cursed, "Just because you look a little like me, you barged into Kevin's life and became his maid. Fine. But how dare you pretend to be his lover?" As punishment for lying, Laura had me dragged away from Kevin. She broke my hands and slashed my face. Lying on the ground and barely alive, I smiled at Kevin. For the past ten years, he never allowed me to escape, but he wouldn't let me die either. Now, I leaped off a cliff under his cold gaze. He wouldn't have my body even after I died.

Ever since I married Seth Jerrell, he never lets me go without. If I mention wanting to see snow, he charters a private jet and flies me to Montreve. If I say I want to keep horses, he buys an entire ranch for me. For Seth, money has always been his way of showing love. Until the day I see him at the docks. He's shirtless, hauling heavy sacks from one cargo pile to another, dust covering his skin. He's crouched beside the stacks, eating a dry flatbread, when a young woman in an apron hurries over from the cafeteria and hands him a bowl of free soup. "Seth, once I've saved enough money, I'll buy you some new clothes. You don't have to keep wearing torn ones." He downs the soup in one go, then smiles. "Then I'll work harder tomorrow and buy you a pair of new shoes," he says, his eyes sparkling with delight. I stand in the shadow of a shipping container, barely keeping myself upright. I can't believe that Seth, the man who effortlessly charms his way through countless business dinners and once bought me an entire office building, is willing to pretend he's struggling just to impress a cafeteria worker. "When I get rich, I'll buy you whatever you want." Those are the exact words he told me when he confessed his feelings to me on a rooftop years ago. I don't confront him. I simply delete his number and block him on every social media platform.