In A World Without Color, You Were My Miracle
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A brutal fire had Brenna's mother abandon her.
When the family finally "reunited" with her, she was a scarred outcast mucking stalls and tending horses in the countryside.
They tore into her icily. "We only brought you back to marry in your sister's place. Don't you dare bring disgrace on us!"
Disgusted, Brenna cut them off.
Then the truth surfaced-a famed jeweler called her mentor, a top hospital director named her heir, an elite hacker circle bowed to her, and her scars faded into stunning beauty.
Regrets came too late. She was already in a tycoon's arms.
Vincent, a power player straddling both business and illegal worlds, had a secret: he was colorblind.
That was until Brenna unexpectedly burst into his life, bringing colors back into his world.
At first, he never thought he could fall for this seemingly unattractive woman, yet as time passed, his heart surrendered...
In A World Without Color, You Were My Miracle Chapter 1
"Brenna, you're stepping in for Noreen to get engaged today. Get back here right now and stop embarrassing this family! If you don't—" The line went dead the second Brenna Fuller ended the call.
Brenna had been abducted and sold off at three years old. It took her more than twenty years to track down her biological parents, and she had only reunited with them a month ago. Now they were demanding she marry in place of their precious younger daughter, Noreen Walsh.
A sharp crack suddenly tore through the alley.
Brenna recognized the sound as gunfire instantly. Without wasting time, she scooped up her pharmacology textbooks and prepared to slip out of the alley.
Before she could take two steps, someone slammed into her.
The man wore a silver mask that covered most of his face, leaving only a clean, sharp jaw exposed. His tailored suit jacket was darkened with spreading blood, proof that he was badly hurt.
"Don't move..." Vincent Todd rasped, his voice low and edged with warning.
Assuming she was another assassin sent by his enemies, he raised his hand, intent to subdue her, but the moment he saw her face clearly, his hand stalled midair.
Their gazes locked. Amber eyes met his, bright and steady, and her lips stood out in vivid red against skin marked by heavy burn scars. Yet in his eyes, she didn't look damaged. She looked alive.
For more than ten years, his world had been nothing but black and white. Now, standing in front of her, he felt as if color had suddenly returned.
Footsteps pounded closer from the alley entrance.
"Move! He's wounded. He can't have gone far!" a man shouted.
Silence pressed in after that, broken only by tense breathing.
Brenna's gaze flicked toward the approaching figures. Each of them had a swallow tattoo inked on his neck. She knew exactly what that meant. Notorious assassins.
"I didn't see anything," she said calmly, ready to walk away and leave him to his fate.
Without giving her space to step away, Vincent closed the distance and pinned her between himself and the cold brick wall. "If you get me out of this, name your price," he said, his tone low but steady.
His gaze didn't leave her face. Everything around him still looked drained of color, yet when he focused on her, the world sharpened and brightened in a way he couldn't explain. Who exactly was she?
Outside the alley, the sound of boots striking pavement grew louder.
Brenna narrowed her eyes and let out a quiet breath. "Such a headache," she muttered.
Then, her hand shot up and caught his collar. She pressed her palm flat against his chest and shifted her tone in an instant. "Honey, don't you think this is a little too bold for a public place?" she said sweetly.
Strips of white gauze hung overhead, swaying slightly and casting a hazy veil over them. From a distance, they looked like a couple tangled up in an intimate moment.
The approaching footsteps slowed for a second and then resumed, edging closer.
The next moment, Vincent wrapped an arm firmly around her waist and pulled her flush against him.
"Why act shy now? We picked this quiet spot for a live stream, remember? If someone stumbles onto us, it'll just bring more viewers." His breathing turned heavier as he spoke.
Standing only inches away from her, he caught the light, crisp trace of her scent in the air, and he could clearly see the glow in her amber eyes.
As Vincent leaned in and Brenna tilted her head back, shielded by the white gauze, they appeared to be a passionate young couple.
The assassins hesitated. None of them wanted to risk being filmed, so after a few annoyed curses, they turned and ran toward another direction.
Once their footsteps faded, Brenna finally relaxed. "Two million," she said calmly. "That's my price."
Even through the thin fabric between them, she could feel the heat from his broad palm resting at her waist, steady and unmistakable.
No matter how tense the situation was, Brenna couldn't ignore the obvious. The man in front of her was built well. From where she stood, the top buttons of his shirt had come undone, exposing the firm lines of his chest. Even with half his face hidden behind a mask, the cut of his shoulders and the taper of his waist gave off an undeniable presence.
"Give me your contact details," Vincent said, his gaze still locked on her. "I'll send the money over now."
He couldn't bring himself to tear his gaze away from her, almost as if he was trying to memorize every detail.
When their eyes met again, a chill ran down her spine. There was something dangerous in his stare, sharp and focused, like a predator sizing up its prey. Her pulse quickened before she could stop it.
"This account," she said briskly, pushing against his chest to create distance while handing him a backup account.
She took a deep breath. The strange tension from earlier had to be her imagination. She had gone out of her way to make herself look as unattractive as possible. Her best friend had even joked that the burn scars makeup made her look completely ruined. No sane man would be drawn to that.
Moments later, a group of disciplined bodyguards rushed into the alley.
"We apologize for the delay. The targets have been neutralized..." the lead guard remarked, only to stop when he noticed Brenna standing beside Vincent. His expression hardened at once. "Is she part of them? Do you want us to handle her?"
They had seen assassins disguise themselves as fragile women before. Still, this was the first time they had seen one disguised as an ugly woman.
Brenna was momentarily at a loss for words. So this was why this man had transferred two million without blinking. They were ready to silence her.
Clicking her tongue, she straightened her posture and lifted her chin. "Watch your tone," she snapped. "I'm Vincent Todd's fiancée. The Todd family doesn't tolerate disrespect. Think carefully before you touch me."
As soon as the bodyguards heard her words, they looked at one another, and then they broke into loud laughter. Fiancée? There was no way their boss would ever marry someone they thought looked so ugly and small.
One of them spoke up. "Don't be ridiculous. Do you even have any idea who our boss is..."
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In A World Without Color, You Were My Miracle of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5Chapter 6 Ch. 6Chapter 7 Ch. 7Chapter 8 Ch. 8
Chapter 9 Ch. 9
Chapter 10 Ch. 10
Chapter 11 Ch. 11
All Chapters all
New Release Novels
7.6
I moaned out his name. "Damien, you are not trying hard to get me, yet .."
He smirked and whispered to my ears. "I like being hard, Not "trying" hard."
When Lila Sinclair's mother is sentenced to life in prison, her world collapses overnight. With nowhere else to go, she is taken in by Sebastian Blackwood, her mother's former lover. A powerful, reserved man who agrees to shelter her under strict conditions.
Lila is placed in his household... and into a life she never asked for, sharing a roof with two stepbrothers who change everything.
Damien is danger wrapped in charm...intense, controlling, and impossible to ignore. Ethan, on the other hand, is steady, kind, and grounding...the only place she feels safe when everything else feels like it's slipping away.
But Lila's situation comes with a hidden clause: her stay in the country is temporary. Within 365 days, her legal protection expires. To remain, she must marry one of the Blackwood heirs.
One house. Two brothers. Twelve months of blurred lines, buried secrets, and emotions she was never meant to feel.
As desire clashes with safety and passion wars with peace, Lila is forced into a choice that could secure her future...or destroy it completely.
7.3
I was tracing the gold paint on my own tombstone when a hand tapped me on the shoulder.
It was Clayton.
The same man who, five years ago, had left me bleeding out in a ditch because he didn't want to be late for my sister's engagement party.
"Die quietly, Ivy," he had said over the phone before hanging up.
Now, standing over my grave, he dropped his cheap plastic flowers in shock.
"Ivy? You're... we buried you."
They hadn't buried me.
They had buried an empty box to save face, mourning a "troubled" daughter they had actually discarded like broken trash the moment I became a liability.
Clayton's shock quickly turned to that familiar, arrogant anger.
He accused me of faking my death for attention.
He told me I was sick for putting the family through such pain.
He even reached out to grab my arm, intending to drag me back to my father to apologize.
"You're coming with me," he spat. "You owe us an explanation."
But he made a fatal mistake.
He thought he was talking to Ivy Dillard, the soft girl who cried when she skinned her knees.
He didn't notice the town car waiting at the curb, or the man stepping out of it.
Before Clayton's fingers could graze my coat, a hand made of steel caught his wrist.
Collin Richardson, the most feared Capo in Chicago, stepped between us.
"Touch my wife again," Collin whispered, his voice promising violence. "And you lose the hand."
I smiled at the terror draining the color from Clayton's face.
I didn't come back from the dead to explain myself.
I came back to bury them.
7.4
I single-handedly saved my family's corporate empire from a hostile takeover, securing our market share for the next decade.
But my grandfather didn't see me as a hero. He saw me as a flawed piece of inventory.
To calm the board and fix the reputation I supposedly ruined, he forced me into an arranged marriage, auctioning me off to the highest bidder.
Desperate, I turned to my childhood friend, Egnacio, the only person who ever promised to protect me.
But instead of saving me, he publicly humiliated me. He used my desperation as a networking opportunity, pitching my arranged marriage as a business deal to a ruthless private equity king named Dexter Mathews.
Later that night, I caught Egnacio holding my cruel cousin in his arms.
"What man wants to be with a woman who looks at you like she's planning a hostile takeover?"
Hearing him mock my pain shattered the last bit of hope I had.
I realized I was never family to them. I was just a sharp knife, used to cut down their enemies and then traded for cash before I got dull.
The heartbreak vanished, replaced by a cold, violent rage.
I didn't break, and I didn't run.
Instead, I got into the back of Dexter Mathews's car. He had watched my family tear me apart, but he didn't see a broken pawn. He saw a queen.
And together, we were going to burn their entire empire to the ground.
9.1
Waking up with a cold, scaly hand wrapped around my throat wasn't the worst part.
The worst part was realizing I'd transmigrated into the body of Terra Mason—the most despised woman in the entire Enclave. She drugged high-level beast-men and forced them into life-binding bio-contracts. She locked an aquatic warrior in a dry basement until his organs failed. She treated the most lethal males in the city like broken toys.
Zev, the Level 6 serpent who's currently choking me, would rather blow up his own heart than spend another day as my slave. His affection metric? Negative ninety. His trust? Zero.
Then my system activates: the Kore AI. It gives me exactly 500 credits, a medical nano-gel, and a recipe for neutralizing the radioactive poison in mutant meat. Real food. In this world, that's worth more than gold.
I save Rhys, the dying aquatic male everyone left for dead. I season a slab of purple mutant steak until Sam, a battle-scarred grizzly shifter, groans at the taste—and his trust points finally tick above zero. When my backstabbing ex-best friend tries to steal my males and destroy me, I don't scream or throw a tantrum like the old Terra. I dismantle her with the truth.
But earning their trust means more than grilling meat. A scorpion swarm ambushes us at midnight. Sam throws himself between me and a stinger the size of my arm. As he stands over the corpse, fur receding from his claws, he stares at me and whispers, "You were testing me."
Yes. I was. Because in this world, the weak don't survive. And I refuse to be weak again.
Four beast-men. Four contracts. One system. And a whole lot of steak. Let this dystopian wasteland know—I'm not the monster they remember. I'm worse. I'm the one who's going to feed them until they'd kill for me.
7.6
The heavy prison gates clanged shut, ending three years. I scanned the empty lot for Julian, my fiancé. Deserted.
Biting December wind my only welcome. Calls to Julian, father, mother: unanswered/disconnected.
Shivering, Julian's tracker showed an unfamiliar Long Island estate. A freezing cab left me penniless; I walked through the blizzard. Through a mansion window, I saw Julian, my stepsister Clara, a small boy—a perfect family. Julian, who hated children, doted on him, and Clara wore *my* engagement ring.
I overheard Julian's call: he, my father, conspired to frame me for Clara’s medical error, saving their company and future. My family hadn't just abandoned me; they plotted my destruction.
A delayed text from Julian popped up, lying about a "cross-border meeting," promising to pick me up tomorrow. Despair vanished, replaced by a cold, terrifying smile. Typing "Understood," I turned from their stolen life, walking into the blizzard, fueled by burning rage.
8.4
I worked three double shifts at the garage just to buy a velvet-boxed cake for my wealthy girlfriend, Arleen.
But when I pushed open the VIP room door, I saw her lover kissing her bare leg.
She didn't push him away. Instead, she laughed and swirled her martini.
"I only forgot Finn because I knew he would stay. He is a poor boy from Queens who follows me around like a loyal dog."
Later that night, her lover intentionally crashed a Porsche to scare me, sending a piece of jagged metal into my skull.
Lying in a growing pool of my own blood, I watched Arleen crawl out of the wreckage.
She didn't even look at me. She threw herself at her uninjured lover, screaming for a medic.
"He just got scraped by a piece of plastic. He is faking it. Deal with Jaquez first!"
When I woke up, I wasn't free. Arleen had locked me in a private hospital wing with 24-hour security, planning to isolate me and keep me as her broken, captive toy forever.
My blind, pathetic devotion finally froze into absolute disgust.
I looked at the heart monitor next to my bed and grabbed an IV needle.
I severed the sensor wire to trigger a flatline, slipped out the fire stairs while the nurses panicked, and burned my identity to ashes.
This time, I was going to disappear to London, build my own empire, and watch hers burn.
![[Dubbed Version] A Businessman’s Promise](https://v.melolo.com/b1265344voduse1318177724/c4b3371d5145403705172469513/y9MaI77JG0cA.webp!15491.webp!15491.webp)
