Finally Free

Before my wedding, my vision which I lost after saving Bruce unexpectedly returned. Overjoyed, I hurried to share the wonderful news with him, but as I stepped into the living room, I froze. Bruce and my cousin, Kerry, were in a passionate embrace. "Bruce, the baby is perfectly healthy now. The doctor said we can sleep together again! Why don't we do it right here in the living room? Also, isn't it thrilling to do it here while Nancy is asleep in her room?" "Shut up! Don't joke about my wife like that!" Bruce snapped at her, but his reprimand was accompanied by a kiss. I stood there, watching in shock as their movements grew more intense and their breathing became heavier. Only then did I piece it all together. Their sudden shared enthusiasm for indoor workouts six months ago wasn't about fitness at all. Covering my mouth to stifle a sob, I turned back to my room and shut the door. I decided then and there: Bruce didn't need to know I had recovered. Reaching for my phone, I dialed my mother. "Mom, I'm not marrying Bruce anymore. I'll marry the comatose heir of the Blakes instead. I don't need Bruce in my life."

ความจำเป็นทำให้ อลินดา ตัดสินใจเดินเข้าสู่โลกมืด "ขายบริการ งานสบาย รายได้ดี" คำพูดของเพื่อนมีค่าก็เมื่อวันที่ชีวิตเดินมาถึงทางตัน "คุณคีย์ ลูกค้าที่ดัน 'ถูกสเปค' ชี้นิ้วเลือกเธอ ฟาดหัวเธอด้วยเงิน อย่างน้อยเขาก็โผล่มาในเวลาที่ 'ใช่' เหมือนมือมืดช่วยฉุดคนที่กำลัง จมน้ำ ก่อนลมหายใจเฮือกสุดท้าย จะหมดลง + ในวินาทีสุดท้าย เขากัดลงบนลำคอขาวเนียน ดูดแรง ๆ มือที่สอดประสานบีบกระชับแนบแน่น กดสะโพกกระแทกท่อนเนื้ออุ่นร้อนอีกสี่ห้าครั้ง ปลดปล่อยน้ำรักในร่องสวาทชื้นฉ่ำที่มีเครื่องป้องกันขวางกั้น สุขแบบ ใจเต้นแรง ควบคุมตัวเองไม่ได้ มันช่างได้อารมณ์ 'ฟีลแฟน' สุขล้ำ หวามไหว ใจล่องลอยราวอยู่ในฝัน อลินดาพลิกกายนอนหงาย อยู่ภายใต้ร่างของเขา ท่ามกลางแสงไฟส่องมาจากตึกสูงรอบด้าน เม็ดฝนที่สาดกระทบผนัง แววตาที่ซ่อนความ 'ร้าย' คล้ายจะแผ่วลง เหมือนมา 'ฮันนีมูน' มากกว่า 'ขายบริการ' ใต้ฉากหน้าที่แสน 'โหดเหี้ยม' เธอมองว่าเขาคือ 'มาเฟียนักรัก' ที่ไม่รู้ว่ากระชากหัวใจผู้หญิงมาเท่าไหร่แล้ว 'รอยจูบ' ที่ฝากไว้ จะลบมันออกไปยังไงดี

On the day my daughter is discharged from the hospital after recovering from the flu, I run into my ex-husband, Zachary Levine, whom I have been divorced from for seven years. He is there to pick up his wife, who has just given birth. He looks a little surprised as his gaze moves up and down to take in my clothes, which is still stained from my child's vomit. I had no time to change out of it earlier. "Long time no see. How have you been lately?" he asks. I smile and say I am doing fine. As we are about to part, he grabs my arm. "Alyssa, our son misses you a lot. If you are having any difficulties, don't push yourself. The passcode for the house in the north of the city is still your birthday. You can go there anytime." I politely decline, and he lets out a sigh. "After all these years, you are still as stubborn as you were back then. Don't hate me." I smile but say nothing. There needs to be love for there to be hate. But now, he is just a stranger to me.

York Langston locked me up for six months. Word on the street was he dropped over 100 million to buy me my own private island. Security here? Tight enough to rival the White House. Even a bird that flew past the area would get shot down on sight. But what nobody knew… All that luxury people envied? To me, it was just a gilded cage. It wasn't until he found a woman who looked almost like me that his interest began to fade. One day, she stormed the island with a gang at her back while he was away. She slashed my tendons and carved up my face with a blade before locking me inside a cage with a rabid dog. I was barely breathing by the time York finally found me. "York, this woman thought she could fool you by imitating me? She must be a spy! You'll have to flay her alive if you want her to talk!"

“การเดินทางที่ไม่รู้จุดมุ่งหมาย ความสวยที่ทำให้ชีวิตของเธอเปลี่ยนไปตลอดกาล”

A year into our marriage, Timothy Grant suddenly turns abstinent. He builds a private chapel in the villa and always carries a rosary with him. No matter how I tease or tempt him, he stays cold and distant. My seduction attempts don't move him. One night, I stand outside the bathroom door and watch as he releases himself to a photo of another woman. So, Timothy isn't heartless. His heart just doesn't beat for me. I trick him into signing the divorce papers and vanish from his world completely. And yet, I later hear that he is going mad searching for me! The next time we meet is at his uncle's wedding. I wear a white wedding gown, and he looks at me with tear-filled eyes. He just can't bring himself to think of me as his aunt!

When my ex-husband, Hanson Rowse, got remarried, I jumped into the ocean with our ten-year-old daughter, Tess Rowse, in my arms. The police called Hanson and my parents. The wedding reception was cut short, and they all rushed over. My soul hung in the air above it all, watching as Tess was pulled from the water. The sight of her hit like a blade to the chest. At the hospital, my parents looked at her with nothing but cold indifference. My brother, Edward Wells, didn't hesitate. He stepped forward and slapped her hard across the face. "You're just like your mother! Always causing trouble and pulling cheap stunts like this just to get attention." Hanson's fists clenched. He scanned the area, and when he couldn't see me anywhere, anger spilled into his eyes. "Where's Melody? She picked my wedding day to pull this stunt, and now she won't even show her face? If she really wanted to die, why leave behind this burden?" At his words, Tess suddenly moved. She stumbled toward the window, climbed up, and before anyone could react, she jumped. The room went dead silent for a heartbeat. Then, the screaming started. What they didn't know was this: the first thing Tess and I learned at that reform school was obedience.

Late at night, my husband came home with a young model. "So, you are the washed-up wife that Mr. Dawson keeps at home?" The girl looked at me with a mocking smile and said. Jay Dawson, my husband, reeking of alcohol, glanced between us with interest. He then hugged the young girl and led her into the bedroom. I sat alone on the living room couch, wrapped in a blanket, and listened to their shameless noises all night. I endured it for two years. Our agreement had finally ended this year, and so had my love for Ethan. I walked away. But Ethan chased after me like a madman.

In the third year after my death, my mother finally remembered me. But it wasn't out of longing—it was because my younger sister's leukemia had relapsed, and she urgently needed a bone marrow transplant. Clutching a donation agreement, my mother made her way to the basement I once lived in. She kicked open the door and was met with a floor slick with blood and scattered medicine bottles. "Cassidy, what game are you playing this time? Do you really think a self-inflicted act of suffering could fool me? Why are you so selfish? Why won't you save your own sister?" Her voice roared with anger, echoing through the space. From the crowd that had gathered to watch, a ragged little boy stepped forward. "Are you talking about Cassidy Porter? She… she died three years ago of organ failure… she vomited so much blood…"

On my birthday, I go out to eat with my family. I make a wish, hoping that we will always stay happily together. When I open my eyes, I see my son, Luigi Marino, holding up his tablet. On the screen, a line of text reads, "Dad, Maria says she's pregnant with your baby. Am I going to get a new mom?" Giovanni Marino is busy taking pictures of me with a Polaroid. He glances at the screen casually before writing a reply on the back of the photo. "No. I made a promise with your mom. If either of us betrays the other, we will have to disappear from the other's life forever. I can't live without your mom. So, you have to help me keep this from her. Even if Maria's baby is born, they will never appear in front of your mom." After writing that, he looks at me and asks in a gentle voice, "What's wrong, my love? Why are your eyes red? Did the smoke from the candles irritate them?" My tears are about to fall, but I force a smile and reply, "I'm fine. The birthday gift you all prepared for me is wonderful. I'm so touched that I can't help but cry." He doesn't know that my dyslexia was cured a week ago. It seems I no longer have to hesitate about the job offer from a well-known international nonprofit that teaches children with dyslexia how to read. The paperwork will be done in seven days. When that time comes, I will disappear from their world completely.