If You Were Mine Melanie Harlow 소설 & 이야기

Her fingers curl against the papers on my desk, and I catch a glimpse of the shiny rock on the fourth finger of her left hand. It’s amusing, almost, how cunning some women can be. Her husband is somewhere overseas, working his ass off to afford all her many frivolities, and here she is, begging for the cock of his business rival. I couldn’t care less. My phone is in my hand, and I swipe the answer button before pressing it against my ear. “Valentin, it’s me, Melanie. I need your help.” I tilt my head backwards, a strange feeling rises in my chest.

Buckets of sweat poured off me every day. I was shedding weight quickly, but unfortunately, Freya's condition worsened. By the time I had lost nearly 100 pounds, Freya finally couldn't hold on any longer and died from malnutrition. With Freya gone, something unexpected happened. The very next day, Walter and Ingrid came looking for me. They actually hoped I would return to the Graham family and resume my identity as their daughter. Otherwise, the Grahams would truly be left with no heirs. They even brought Jonah along to persuade me.

It felt like I had lost a part of my memory. "Bed three. Noah Langston, right?" the nurse called out. I widened my eyes and stared at her. Behind me, Grandma answered, "Yes, that's correct." That wasn't right. I was Noelle, not Noah. No—who was I? "The patient has gone through severe shock. She needs to rest, but an officer will drop by later to take her statement," said the nurse. "If her condition is stable, then…" "We understand. We'll cooperate with the police."

By Tuesday morning, the city felt like it was breathing down my neck. My phone buzzed itself off the nightstand before sunrise—notifications, headlines, messages from numbers I didn’t recognize. One alert screamed across the screen: ELENA RAMIREZ—THE MYSTERY GIRL WHO SNARED HARRINGTON. Beneath it was a grainy photo of me leaving Adrian’s building the night before the gala. Someone had been following me far longer than I’d realized. Maya slid a mug of coffee toward me as I sat at the counter, still in yesterday’s sweater. “You’ve officially gone viral,” she said, trying to sound casual. “There’s an entire thread dissecting your lipstick choice.”

She ramms into me with a hug, like she was lost in a large sea and she needed someone to hold her head up. Milly sobbing so heavily that others at the mall stop to watch the scene. One glare and they all scurry away. I hold Milly tightly in my arms. I had once been as lost as she was right now. Only difference was, I had not the guts nor courage to be rebellious. Maxwell became my solace, he was the hand that dragged me from under water and I welcomed it like bliss. I didn't mind being the hand to drag another out from under water.

“In a shocking development, it was discovered at the scene that the victim, Naomi Pearl, is legally married to billionaire CEO Damon Sinclair. The marriage had not been previously disclosed to the public.” Elara’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God,” she whispered, eyes fixed on the screen. “Naomi…is she safe?” Her voice trembled, her eyes seeming to grow wider with each word the reporter spoke. She turned immediately toward Victor, who stood near the fireplace, arms folded tightly across his chest. “That looks terrible.” Victor said, brows furrowed in concern. “Victor,” Elara said, already halfway out of her seat. “Can you call Damon? Please. We need to know if she’s okay. If he’s okay.”

"They found him. So, mourn that hour and go back to being you. We need that warrior now, my lady." "Mistress of yours?" I ask incredulously. "You're mine, baby. No one has the right to kill you, not even you, do you understand?" asks Esteban taking my chin and I nod. "I understand." I mumble then cry for as long as I have to let it all out.

Her sweat, toil and sleepless nights had birthed her multi-billion dollar empire. Her mom had always tried to set her up with so many men, but none caught her attention. She’d never meet any man like Duke, her late husband. He was everything sha had ever dre and of in a man. She had always blamed herself for his death. And only the cancer had been traced and treated earlier, she wouldn’t have lost him to the cold hands of death. He had left her with an amazing daughter, Debbie and son, Tyler. She missed him everyday and wished she could turn the hands of time.