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In the Name of Love Novel Cover

In the Name of Love

Three years after abandoning Byron Estrada at the altar, a woman returns to face his cold resentment. Forced into a position of subservience, she endures his constant ridicule as punishment for her past flight. However, her reappearance carries a hidden truth that could shatter the Estrada family forever. She has returned with a child in tow, but the boy's biological father is not Byron; he is the son of Byron’s own brother, adding a layer of betrayal to their already fractured bond.
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Chapter 2

By the time I stepped out, Bibi had fallen asleep again. She hadn't been feeling well, often drifting in and out of sleep. I lingered by the door, my worry gnawing at me as I stole one last glance at her. In the end, I left, feeling uneasy.

Billings Lane wasn't far from the hospital, and it was where Bibi's favorite strawberry ice cream was sold. I grabbed an ice pack and tucked it into my bag along with the ice cream. Then, I hailed a cab and headed toward The Midnight Club.

As the cab sped along, I touched up my makeup in the rearview mirror. Byron hated seeing me bare-faced. He always said I looked too plain without makeup, so I had no choice but to cover up. The false lashes were a struggle on the bumpy road, and as I struggled to secure them, a tear fell, splashing onto my hand, hot and painful—humiliating in its sting.

Though it was past midnight, the city center was still alive with the glittering lights of the night.

When I pushed open the door, I immediately saw Byron lounging on the sofa in the center of the room. His custom gray-brown suit highlighted his chiseled V-shaped frame. The gold-rimmed glasses he wore caught a hint of the light above, adding an extra layer of sharpness to his already formidable presence.

Rosa, draped across him, had her arms wrapped around his neck, leaning in to kiss him with the kind of intimate abandon that left no room for others.

Byron's eyes shifted toward the door as I entered, his dark gaze flickering with something that resembled satisfaction.

He patted Rosa's arm, and she immediately slid off him, sitting on the side with an air of practiced indifference.

"It's 11:10 PM. You're ten minutes late."

Byron extended his hand, glancing at his wristwatch.

I lowered my head, muttering quietly, "Bibi had a fever. I went to get her some ice cream."

"Dana, no excuses. Today's Rosa's birthday. Do what you're supposed to do and don't make me angry."

Byron's tone was commanding, and the group of young men around him echoed his words.

"Yeah, Dana. Why don't you go get the cake for Rosa?"

"Pour the drinks. Serve Byron and Rosa. Dana, you've never been this clueless."

"Haha, exactly. Are you feeling a little inferior now that you know Rosa won the Best Actress award?"

I took a deep breath, swallowing my humiliation and pain, then went to cut the cake for Rosa and pour the wine.

"Since I was late and spoiled everyone's mood, I'll punish myself with three glasses of wine."

I tilted my head back and drained a glass of red wine, hoping it would please Byron and get him off my back, so I could finally leave.

"Byron, can I go now?"

Byron didn't answer, but I felt a hand slide up my waist. I stumbled, and the wine glass slipped from my hand, spilling across the floor.

"Dana, it's fine. Don't worry. I'm staying with you tonight."

Following the hand holding me, I looked over at the unfamiliar face beside me, recognizing him as some new, flashy heir from Dystenia, probably someone Byron had taken under his wing.

But I knew that this newcomer's fortune would soon fade away.

"Get him out." Byron's voice was cold with fury, his eyes gleaming with menace.

Byron's old friends knew well that he enjoyed belittling and humiliating me, allowing those around him to do the same.

But there was a limit to how far insults could go. Only he was allowed to touch me. Anyone else who crossed that line would suffer the consequences.

This newcomer clearly didn't understand the rules. He thought humiliating me would win Byron's favor, but it only earned him a swift downfall.

After the chaos subsided, Byron pointed at me. "You can continue."

"The wine is spilled, so I can't drink it. Let me go home." I practically begged, my voice barely a whisper.

"It's nothing. Just clean it up and open a new bottle."

I turned to find a waiter, but Byron snapped his fingers irritably, pointing at me with his index finger.

"You clean it up yourself."

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