Iliad Setting Novels & Stories

On my birthday, I personally prepare 16 dishes. After setting up the candlelight, I open a bottle of red wine. I take a photo and send it to my husband, Eric Sinclair. "I'm working late tonight. Don't wait for me," he replies. I choose to believe him. But after midnight, I notice an Instagram story posted by Shirley Huxley, his secretary. Eric was there with her, dressed in the trench coat I once gave him. They sat side by side in the VIP seat of football stadium where my favorite Super Bowl take place. Entwined in a passionate embrace, they kissed beneath a sea of shimmering lights and the roar of thousands of fans. That game is the one I have always longed to experience with him. I look down at the cold food on the table. Eric's words keep ringing in my head. "I hate kissing." "Marriage is a partnership, not about love and kisses." Though we've been married for ten years, we've never shared a single kiss. Meanwhile, he's out there, kissing Shirley openly and passionately. Despite it all, not a single tear falls from my eyes. The next day, Eric settles into his chair, completely unfazed. "Return the gallery to Shelly," he commands. I nod quietly, saying nothing. Suddenly, Layla Sinclair, my daughter, comes running down the stairs and throws herself into Shirley's arms. "Aunt Shirley, you're my favorite. I don't like Mom!" In that instant, it hits me—the home I devoted my heart and soul to means nothing anymore. It doesn't matter that I've been married to Eric for a decade. Now, all I want is to find myself again. I decide to accept an invitation from the Parisoir School of Fashion Design. From this moment on, I won't wait for them to come home, and I won't look back.

My future mother-in-law, Diane Grant, loved setting rules. On the day I proposed, she sat there with that smug, superior look and told me if I wanted to marry her daughter, Olivia Grant, I had to pass her so-called "son-in-law training", which was three months working as a food delivery driver. She said she wanted to test whether I could handle hardship. For my fiancee's sake, I kept my identity hidden. I was the heir to one of the most powerful families in Crestfall City, and I agreed without hesitation. For three months, I shed every trace of privilege. I worked from dawn to night, delivering orders across the city. My parents didn’t understand. My friends disapproved. Mrs. Grant watched me like a hawk, picking me apart every single day. "Three minutes late? That’s a $3,000 penalty. The wedding shall be delayed by a month!" "Wrong unit delivery, bad review? $8,000 penalty. You don’t get to see Olivia this week!" Even then, I never gave up. Until the final day. I received an urgent order with a massive tip. The note was in bold: "Lifesaving medication. Immediate delivery." I sped through the streets, pushing myself to the limit. Just as I was about to enter the residential compound, Mrs. Grant stepped in front of me, blocking my way, her face full of disdain. Her voice shot up sharply. "The wedding gift goes up to $200,000. Not a cent less." I looked at her look of absolute certainty and suddenly laughed. My finger slid across the screen. The recipient of that urgent order was her precious son, Christopher Grant. I slowly put away the unlimited card in my pocket, along with the check I had prepared for a million-dollar wedding gift. Originally, I had planned to reveal my identity that day to give her the surprise of a lifetime. It seemed there was no need.

The day before our wedding, my fiance, Yale Salvatore, died in an accident. He had been setting up the venue when the stage collapsed. I'm now a widow and carrying his child. Devastated with grief, I even tried to end my life. However, my parents-in-law urge me not to grieve too much. After all, I'm pregnant and need to stay strong for the child's sake. On the day of Yale's funeral, his older twin brother arrives from Novavista with his wife and child. They're here to attend the funeral. His face is so identical to Yale's that I nearly mistook him for Yale several times. By accident, I overheard a conversation between him and my in-laws. "You faked your death just for Gwen King? Sasha is pregnant with your child! Do you want your baby to be born fatherless?" "You did all of this just so you could be with Gwen out in the open?" My brother-in-law, exasperatedly explains, "Mom, Dad, Gwen has cancer. She has less than a month to live. She's loved me for years, and her dying wish is to marry me. "Once she passes, I'll return to Sasha's side and give her an even grander wedding. Then, I'll be there for the birth of our child, and we'll raise him together." Hearing this, I'm so shocked I can't speak. My so-called "brother-in-law" is actually my fiance, Yale! For the sake of helping another woman fulfill her dying wish, he doesn't care how upset or devastated I may be. And once he completes his benevolent mission, he intends to return to my side? No. My fiance, Yale, is already dead. I won't beg him to come back. And in three days, I'll be just like him. I'll be lying beneath a cold gravestone, and I'll forever vanishing from his world, he will never find me again...