“We should get them married soon. It’s been long enough since they got engaged,” John said, his tone warm but expectant as he looked across the lavish sitting room.
Ruma, seated with practiced grace beside her porcelain teacup, lifted her eyes to meet his. A smile curved her lips—polite, composed, and entirely agreeable.
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"He told himself he hates her, because the truth was far more dangerous." ------- Angelina's eyes welled with tears, blurring the scene before her-but not enough to miss the devastating sight. Demir, her tormentor, her sworn enemy, stood over the flames devouring her dermatology report. Her only chance to pass the exam. "No..." she breathed, the word caught somewhere between panic and heartbreak. She lunged forward, fists pounding against his chest in blind desperation, her sobs tearing through the silence. "You bastard! You monster! Why do you keep doing this to me? What have I ever done to deserve this?" Her voice cracked with every word, thick with pain. Demir didn't flinch. He grabbed her wrist and in one swift movement, slammed her back against the wall, his hand wrapping around her throat-not enough to strangle, but enough to silence. The scorn in his green eyes was icy and sharp, a gaze she had known her entire life. But with each encounter, it grew colder... darker. She flinched under his stare, choking slightly, the wall biting into her spine. Demir's grip didn't loosen. Instead, he reached up with his free hand, snatched her glasses off, and tossed them across the floor. The fragile frames hit the ground with a soft clink. He leaned in close, his breath brushing her ear, his voice a low growl. "Next time... think twice before coming between me and my family." And just like that, he let go. Angelina gasped, sliding down the wall as her knees buckled. Demir crushed her glasses under his boot with a sickening crunch and walked away without a backward glance-leaving her in shattered silence.
I'm ready to give you that freedom. You and your father can leave." I froze. What? I looked at him, eyes wide with disbelief, searching for any sign he was lying. Any smirk, any cruel glint. But he was calm. Too calm. Then he spoke again-and his words struck like a bolt of lightning straight through me. "But for that..." he paused, his voice dipping to a deadly softness, "you have to be my breeder." She is the kind of girl whose world revolved around her cats and her god jesus. Niamh Moor never asked much from life-just peace in her life. Daughter of one of Ireland's most influential figures, she lived behind the guarded gates of power but felt like a stranger in her own home. With a stepmother who wore venom like perfume and a stepsister who never missed a chance to tear her down, Niamh learned to find solace in silence. She didn't mind the isolation-not really. But everything changed with a single glance. One dance of seduction. One moment of tamtation. That was all it took to unravel the threads of her carefully stitched life. She believed in fairytales. In princes and kindness. In magic that healed. But instead, she found herself tangled in the dark salvation of a man who had no light left in him. The fairytale she longed for didn't come with a white horse. It came cloaked in blood, wrapped in chains, and whispered promises laced with pain. And the moment she stepped into his world, there was no going back.
She woke up in a world that felt unfamiliar, her mind a blank slate, her past erased by a cruel twist of fate. No name. No memories. Just haunting fragments of pain and fear she couldn't place. The girl she once was-lost somewhere in the shadows. Then came him. The man with storm in his eyes and steady hands that pulled her from the darkness. Alejandro Martinez. A stranger who felt too familiar, too steady, too... dangerous. There was a spark-silent at first, then consuming. In his presence, she found safety. In his touch, a fire. But passion built on forgotten truths is a fragile thing. Because the past always returns. And the secrets they both keep... might be the end of everything they've begun to feel.
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