Faking Love To Save The General

For five years, I was locked away in the freezing royal dungeon, starved and used as a bloody plaything by the kingdom's sadistic Cabinet Minister, Brandt Fischer. He tortured me daily for one twisted reason: I simply looked like someone else. When he visited my cell to casually announce my father's execution and drag a silver dagger across my neck, he expected me to beg. Instead, I laughed, sank my teeth directly into his carotid artery, and was violently thrown against a jagged stone wall to my death. As my skull cracked and my blood stained the moss, I thought about my so-called family. The moment Brandt had demanded me, my father, the Duke, handed me over without a single hesitation to save his own political career. I was nothing but a disposable pawn, left to rot in the dark while the monsters who ruined my life thrived. I died suffocating on my own blood and absolute, destructive vengeance. Then, I opened my eyes. I was lying in my silk-sheeted bed, reborn as my fifteen-year-old self. Today was the exact day Lord Daryl Langley, the God of War, would be ambushed and crippled—the event that allowed Brandt to seize ultimate power. I immediately stole a horse, rode to the palace gates, and threw myself directly in front of Daryl's moving carriage. "I just didn't want to see a hero die like a slaughtered pig." I didn't care if I had to shatter my own ankle to hijack his convoy. This time, I was going to save the general, and he would become the blade I use to slaughter them all.

Chapters

Chapter 3

Eulah threw off the thin silk blanket.

Her bare feet hit the floor. The thick wool rug was freezing against her toes.

She stumbled forward, her legs shaking so badly she almost collapsed. She crashed into the mahogany vanity, her hands gripping the cold marble top to keep herself upright.

She stared into the brass-rimmed mirror.

A young, pale face stared back. There were no scars. No hollowed-out cheeks from starvation. Just the beautiful, untouched features of a teenage girl.

Eulah raised a trembling hand. She traced the smooth line of her neck, pressing her fingertips against her pulse point.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

It was strong. It was real.

A wave of overwhelming disbelief crashed over her. Her eyes burned. A single, hot tear slipped down her cheek and splattered onto the marble surface.

Suddenly, her stomach violently contracted.

The phantom smell of the dungeon-the rust, the rotting flesh, the metallic tang of Brandt's blood-flooded her nasal passages.

Eulah bent over the vanity and dry-heaved. Her throat spasmed painfully, but her stomach was empty.

She dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands. She pressed so hard the skin broke.

The sharp, stinging pain grounded her. It forced the PTSD-induced panic back into a locked box in her mind.

Knock. Knock.

Two muffled thumps sounded against the heavy oak double doors of her bedroom.

Agnes, her personal maid, pushed the door open. She looked exactly as she had five years ago-young, vibrant, holding a silver washbasin filled with warm water.

Agnes gasped when she saw Eulah standing barefoot on the rug. She quickly set the heavy basin down on a side table and grabbed a cashmere shawl.

"Miss Eulah, you'll catch your death of cold," Agnes fussed, hurrying over.

Eulah stared at the living, breathing maid. Before she could stop herself, she threw her arms around Agnes and hugged her tight.

Agnes froze. She was terrified by the sudden, uncharacteristic display of affection from her usually reserved mistress. But slowly, she raised a hand and patted Eulah's back.

Eulah took a deep, shuddering breath. She forced her muscles to relax and pulled away.

She needed to control her voice. She needed to sound normal.

"Agnes," Eulah said, her voice slightly hoarse. "What is today's exact date?"

Agnes blinked, confused as she moved to straighten the silk bedsheets. She clearly recited the year and the exact day according to the Foundation Calendar.

The moment the date registered in Eulah's brain, her pupils shrank to pinpricks.

A bloody, forgotten memory tore through her mind like a lightning bolt.

Today. She was eighteen. Today was the day Lord Daryl Langley, the Kingdom's God of War, returned to the capital in triumph.

And today was the day he would be ambushed.

In her past life, Daryl had been attacked while entering the Royal Palace to report his victories. He survived, but he was severely crippled and stripped of his military power.

That ambush was the exact moment Brandt Fischer and the King began their systematic destruction of the military's influence.

Eulah's mind raced. Daryl was the only military force in the entire kingdom capable of standing against Brandt.

If she could save Daryl today, she would be holding the ultimate trump card in this deadly game of chess.

The grandfather clock against the wall chimed eight times.

Daryl was scheduled to enter the palace in less than two hours.

Eulah shoved away the complicated, heavily corseted gown Agnes was holding out to her. Noblewomen's clothing was designed to restrict movement, to keep them docile. She didn't have time for docile.

She tore through the silk dresses, pushing aside the frilly, pastel gowns until she found an old, unadorned riding habit from years ago-the simplest garment she owned. She pulled it on with frantic, jerky movements.

Agnes watched in absolute shock. "Miss! What are you doing? You cannot go out like that!"

Eulah ignored her. She yanked open a drawer and grabbed a leather riding crop.

When she turned back to Agnes, her eyes were completely devoid of warmth. They were cold, calculating, and utterly ruthless.

"Stay in this room," Eulah ordered, her voice cracking like a whip. "Cover for me. Do not let anyone inside. Do you understand?"

Agnes flinched. The sheer, overwhelming authority radiating from the young girl paralyzed her. She nodded dumbly.

Eulah didn't wait. She threw open the heavy glass French doors leading to her balcony.

She grabbed the thick, sturdy vines clinging to the stone exterior of the manor and slid down into the back garden.

Continue to next part

I was smoothing the red silk of my dress over a baby bump only I knew existed, preparing to tell my husband, the ruthless King of Chicago, that he was finally going to be a father. But before I could share the news, the ballroom fell silent. A woman walked in wearing a gold dress that was barely legal. It was Serena, the woman from the photos I had received just hours ago. She walked right up to us and handed Michael a silver tie clip. "You left this in the suite, Michael," she purred in front of the entire city's elite. When I demanded she leave, she smirked and threw her glass of red wine all over me. The liquid soaked into my dress, looking like a gunshot wound right over my womb. I waited for Michael to defend me. To throw her out. Instead, he looked at the crowd, terrified of a scandal. "Don't make a scene, Liv," he hissed, his eyes cold. "Go upstairs and change. I'll handle this." He turned his back on me and walked away with his mistress, leaving me dripping in crimson and humiliation. My mother found me sobbing in the bedroom and slapped me sober. "Tears are for the weak," she said. "Tonight, Michael Thorne loses everything." We froze his assets. We destroyed his reputation. But that wasn't enough. I wanted to break his soul. I looked down at my stomach. I would protect this child, but his father would never know he existed. "Tell him I lost the baby," I whispered to the butler, my voice trembling with rage. "Tell him the stress caused a miscarriage. Tell him he killed his heir." Tonight, the golden cage opens. And Michael Thorne is about to find out that even a canary has claws.

Action Mafia Modern

8.0

Fifty Dollar Bet, Million Dollar Revenge

8.0

For fifty dollars, I sold a piece of my dignity to the school's golden boy. I was eighteen, starving, and desperate enough to take his bet. That single photo destroyed my life. I became "Fifty-Dollar Ella," the school slut, haunted by whispers and scorn. My stepmother and stepsister reveled in my public humiliation, ensuring my life was a living hell. I spent the next decade clawing my way to the top of Wall Street, but I died alone, filled with the bitter regret of a stolen youth. Until the end, I never understood why they all hated me so much. Then, I opened my eyes. I was eighteen again, back in that classroom, moments before the bet that ruined me. A shadow fell over my desk. It was him. "Meet me after school," Javier Mack whispered, a smug look on his face. But this time, the scared, hungry girl was gone. In her place was a shark. And I was ready to play.

Action Modern Young Adult

9.1

FRACTURED Goodness

9.1

Amélie Rousseau grows up believing that honesty, hard work, and faith will save her from poverty. Paris proves her wrong. Despite her brilliance, every door stays closed-until the day Clara Duval, the woman Amélie once helped, steals her future through lies, favors, and corruption. When Amélie dares to speak up, the system silences her and laughs. That is when Monsieur Lefèvre offers her a way out. Under his guidance, Amélie learns the true language of power-deception, loyalty, and sacrifice. One lie leads to another, and soon she rises in the same world that once rejected her. But Julien Moreau, the man who loves the girl she used to be, watches her change. At the height of her success, Amélie must choose: destroy Julien to protect her empire, or expose the corruption and lose everything. Because in Paris, goodness is not free- and survival always demands a price.

Action Adventure LitRPG

9.3

From Rejected Mate To Alpha's Vengeance

9.3

Betrayed by her destined mate and cast out from her pack, Elara is left for dead in the wilderness. However, fate intervenes when she is rescued by a rival Alpha who sees her hidden potential. Fuelled by a desire for justice, she undergoes a rigorous transformation to reclaim her honor. As war looms between factions, Elara must navigate a dangerous path of revenge and newfound love, proving that a rejected wolf can become the ultimate predator.

Action Romance Werewolf

8.3

I Fell Where His Love Favored Another

8.3

Half a month into our cold war, I, Claire Parker, found an abortion procedure slip tucked inside Daniel Carter's suit pocket. The patient's name belonged to the fragile little childhood sweetheart he had always protected so fiercely-Sophie Bennett. I folded the paper calmly and slipped it back where I had found it. Daniel noticed the movement immediately. His eyes flicked toward me through the rearview mirror, resignation coloring his voice. "What are you overthinking now? Sophie was just keeping a friend company at the hospital. She accidentally left it there." I turned toward the window and said nothing. This was Sophie declaring war on me, yet the man who could crush competitors without mercy in the business world believed her completely. The silence inside the car grew suffocating until Daniel finally stopped outside an upscale jewelry boutique. He reached over and ruffled my hair with easy familiarity, his tone indulgent and affectionate. "Come on. Pick out a ring. Your birthday's next month anyway, so we might as well register our marriage too." I bit down hard on my lip as tears fell soundlessly onto the back of my hand. What he still didn't know was that I wouldn't live long enough to see next month.

Action Modern Romance

9.5

My Alpha Imprisoned Me For Her Lies

9.5

Betrayed by her twin, Elara is framed for a crime she didn't commit and ends up captive to Alpha Kaelen. While he believes she is the woman who broke his heart, Elara struggles to survive his cold fury and the harsh prison of his pack. As she fights to prove her innocence, a dangerous attraction ignites between the captive and her jailer. Elara must expose the truth before her sister's web of lies and Kaelen's dark obsession destroy them both.

Action Romance Werewolf

Faking Love To Save The General

Chapter 3

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