A Heart Of Desire And Deceit Mga Nobela at Kwento

If my heart was a person, it would have looked exactly like her. I may have been too proud to admit to her face what she meant to me but it was never my fucking intention to make her feel that way. I have never been able to make sense of my emotions, and I have always tried desperately to get rid of them, but how does one cut out their own deceitful heart? This was wrong, so fucking wrong. I could not love her because my love is not something she deserves. Someone like her doesn't deserve the misery, danger, and suffering that comes with loving me.

First, you allow may Father deceive me and bring me into a family that detests and hates me. Then you allow a liar like him come into my life as a beacon of hope, a light in my darkness. Only for him to turn out a lie again and send all my dreams crashing down. And as though that was not enough; out of all the Men in the World you decided you just derived pleasure in watching me suffer and mated me to him! Made me susceptible to his damn deceptive voice! His deceitful presence. Jealousy rising through my veins at the thought that he had been with many others. The thought that he still had them waiting eagerly for his return.

"You never could." Warren glared up at her, veins tight in his neck. "You’re a coward, Desiree. Hiding behind your hired killers, trying to fill the hole in your black, black heart with money, sex and drugs. Eventually you’ll realize no one actually cares about you. You’ll end up desperate and alone." She chuckled, straightening again. "Oh, sweetheart. I appreciate your concern, but I’m doing pretty well for myself these days. You could say I’m feeling more complete than I ever have. Especially with you two little cockroaches by my side."

She had walked into the wreckage willingly. Back then, she thought she was doing the right thing. Her heart, desperate to be seen, told her it was love. It had felt like it—rushing, consuming, warm in a way that blinded her to the cracks beneath. That was her first mistake. Trusting a man who wore deceit like cologne—charming, sweet, and dangerously misleading. He had spun illusions with effortless ease, painting futures with golden strokes of honeyed lies. And she—so eager to belong, to be chosen—had stepped right into the trap, barefoot and smiling.

Chapter 7 AURORA I continued to play along with his Deceit. "Can you hear it beating?" He inquired again, snapping me off my thoughts. But the only thing that I could hear was my burning hate for him. I stared at him, trying as hard as I could not to reveal the hate that was flaming up inside of me so that he could keep fooling himself, thinking that he was deceiving me while in the real Sense, he was deceiving.

And so I continued to deceive, silently scheming to bring a life into this world under the shadow of my father's will. As the melancholy and romance intertwined in my heart, I realized that love had the power to heal the deepest wounds but could also expose the darkest secrets. Carla's love, unyielding and steadfast, had kindled a fire within me, a fire fueled by guilt and sorrow. I longed for redemption, to confess my sins, and release the burden that threatened to drown us both.

Emma's POV I let what he said sink in and realized that my experience with her was the same. “She did the same to me. Well, sort of.” I said, “I told you, right?” “You did.” He said, “I don't understand what she is trying to do. I feel like the Sinclair family is onto something.” “I don't think so.” “Why? Just because she said she has changed, you believed her readily that she has indeed changed?” “No, that's not it.” I said and struggled to find words to explain to him. After thinking for a while, I said, “See, Desiree is evil because of hatred, not because she was born like that. She won't hurt you unless you hurt her first.”

Narrator’s POV. As Desiree ran to the western territory, she hoped to the gods that he was going to show up. She was finally interested in a man and she also hoped that karma would not play harsh tricks on her by making her chase the guy for once in her life. Disappointment was etched on her face when she got there and he was no where to be seen, she could not even catch his scent at all, she had been stood up by a fucking guy! He was not going to show up and she knew it.

And maybe, just maybe, I could make this contract marriage not just bearable, but a platform to establish my independence, my voice, and my designs. Yet, in the quiet, I felt the pull of Noah’s presence, the subtle acknowledgment in his eyes that he, too, was measuring this arrangement, calculating, cautious. There was a story behind his behaviour, a hole left by his mother’s death, a resentment toward his father, a wary eye toward his older brother. I had glimpsed it, and though I wanted to hate him, a part of me recognized the loneliness beneath the armor. I shook my head, reminding myself: Boundaries first, heart second.

Three days to choose between blood and blood. My wolf growls. ‘They think of using her.’ “I know,” I mutter under my breath. ‘You will not let them.’ I do not answer, because I do not know. If my father dies because of my refusal, the pack will whisper. They will say I chose a mate over duty. That I let sentiment cloud judgment. If Desiree dies because of my consent… I will never forgive myself and I know something else, something the council does not. Desiree is not as fragile as they believe. There is fire in her, a secret in her blood. I have felt it when our skin touches. Even if she is willingly, the blood will fight back because there is more to her liberal than the traitor's shame tag