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 6

Eulah's agonizing scream made Flint flinch. His hands froze in mid-air for a fraction of a second.

That single second was all Eulah needed.

Her fingers, white-knuckled and desperate, gripped the edge of the carriage doorframe. She ignored the blinding pain radiating from her ankle and threw her upper body weight forward, rolling violently inward.

She tumbled into the spacious, luxurious interior of the carriage, bringing the smell of street dust, horse sweat, and fresh blood with her.

The heavy carriage door slammed shut behind her, cutting off the loud gasps of the crowd outside.

Daryl was momentarily stunned by the sheer audacity of the move.

But his battlefield reflexes were faster than thought.

Before Eulah could even push herself up from the plush velvet floorboards, Daryl lunged.

His large, powerful hand clamped around her throat.

He slammed her backward. Eulah's spine hit the polished walnut paneling of the carriage wall with a loud thud.

Daryl leaned over her, his massive frame blocking out the little light coming through the curtains. His grayish-blue eyes were no longer cold; they were blazing with lethal intent.

The space inside the carriage was suddenly suffocating. Their bodies were forced together, separated by less than six inches.

Eulah's airway was crushed. She was forced to tilt her head back, her mouth opening as she struggled to pull in a breath.

But the moment the door had closed, the pathetic, lovesick mask vanished from her face.

The tears stopped. The trembling ceased. Her eyes, previously wide with fake adoration, narrowed into sharp, icy daggers that stabbed straight back into Daryl's furious gaze.

The instantaneous, terrifying shift in her demeanor caught Daryl off guard. The fingers tightening around her windpipe loosened by a millimeter.

Eulah didn't try to pry his hand off her neck. Instead, she reached up and grabbed his thick wrist with both of her hands, anchoring herself to him.

She opened her mouth and spoke in a breathless, barely audible whisper.

"Thirty repeating crossbowmen. Hidden in the rafters of the West Corridor."

Daryl's body went completely rigid. The sheer impossibility of her words struck him like a physical blow. The West Corridor was supposed to be secure, swept by his own vanguard just hours prior.

Eulah didn't blink, her gaze boring into his. "They are positioned above the third pillar. They have the high ground and armor-piercing bolts," she hissed, her words rushing out in a desperate, urgent stream. "If you march in standard formation, you will be slaughtered before you reach the throne room."

The pupils of Daryl's eyes contracted into tiny, black pinpricks. The air in the carriage seemed to freeze.

The hand around Eulah's throat tightened again, the knuckles turning stark white as his combat instincts warred with this sudden, highly classified intelligence.

"Who sent you?" Daryl demanded. His voice was a low, dangerous rumble that vibrated in his chest.

Eulah swallowed hard against the crushing pressure on her throat. The corners of her mouth twitched up into a weak, mocking smile.

"I just... didn't want to see a hero die like a slaughtered pig," she rasped.

Outside, a heavy fist pounded against the carriage door.

"My Lord!" Flint yelled, his voice muffled by the thick wood. "Do you need me to break the door down?"

Instantly, Eulah flipped the switch.

Her face crumpled. She let out a loud, dramatic sob. "Please, General! Have mercy on my poor heart!" she wailed, making sure her voice was loud enough to pierce the carriage walls.

Daryl stared down at her. He watched her seamlessly transition from a cold-blooded intelligence operative back into a hysterical fangirl. His eyes darkened with a complex mix of suspicion and shock.

He weighed his options in a split second.

He abruptly released her throat.

Daryl reached into the breast pocket of his uniform and pulled out a pristine, white silk handkerchief. He wiped his leather glove with slow, deliberate disgust, as if touching her had contaminated him.

"Flint," Daryl commanded, his voice returning to its icy, emotionless baseline. "Escort this 'frightened' lady back to the Duke's estate immediately."

The carriage door was yanked open from the outside. Bright sunlight flooded the dim interior.

Eulah slumped onto the carriage step. She pressed her dirty hands over her face, her shoulders shaking as she faked a devastating bout of weeping.

Flint grabbed her by the arms and hauled her up, dragging her away from the convoy.

Just before she was turned around, Eulah peeked through the gaps in her fingers. She shot Daryl one last, meaningful look.

Don't die.

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 6

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