LOVE PAINTED IN LIES
Prologue
Some stories begin with love.
Some begin with war.
But theirs began with a promise, one whispered under the fading glow of a streetlamp, sealed with youthful dreams and a future full of light. Neither of them knew how quickly love could twist into something darker... or how far a wounded heart could go just to feel whole again.
This is not a tale
Chapters
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Chapter 4
The night air carried a strange stillness as Mila walked home from the gallery. Every footstep echoed louder than it should, as if the street itself was warning her to turn back. The glow of the streetlights stretched across the quiet road, but she still felt a prickle of unease crawling across her skin. She kept glancing behind her, certain someone was there, hidden just out of sight.
She tried distracting herself by replaying the conversation she had with Adrian earlier, he had been distant again, hiding something, his eyes shifted too quickly, his smile a little too forced. It reminded her too much of the time she caught him lying the first time. The memory pressed down on her chest and she still wondered why she gave him another chance. Maybe because she wanted to believe in the version of him she first fell for, the quiet artist who painted emotion like it was a language only they shared.
But tonight felt different.
When she unlocked her apartment door and stepped inside, something felt wrong. The room was exactly as she left it, but the air felt heavy, as if someone had been there recently. She hesitated before turning on the light, her fingers trembling.
Nothing looked touched.
Nothing looked out of place.
But her instincts refused to settle.
She dropped her keys on the small wooden table, took a breath, and walked toward her studio area. The canvas she had been working on stood half-finished, her paints were arranged the same way she left them, yet she felt a chill run through her as she moved closer. Someone had shifted her brush cup just slightly. She always placed it facing the window, but now the opening pointed the opposite direction.
It was a tiny detail. Something most people would dismiss.
But Mila never dismissed details.
She stepped back, her heartbeat picking up. Someone had been in her apartment. Not a thief. Not someone searching for valuables. No drawers were opened. No items missing.
Someone came just to look.
She heard a knock at the door and nearly jumped. She rushed to the peephole, her breath coming fast. Her chest tightened when she saw who stood outside.
Adrian.
She hesitated before opening the door. His expression held something unreadable. Something sharper than usual.
Mila stepped aside and let him in. She watched him carefully as he moved into the room, his eyes scanning everything like he was checking for something. Or confirming something.
He looked tired, his hair a little messy, his shirt wrinkled as if he hadn't been home. When he finally looked at her, she couldn't decide if she felt relieved or more afraid.
You came late she said quietly not wanting her voice to shake.
He sighed running a hand through his hair. I needed to see you Mila. Today was... difficult.
Difficult how she asked.
He hesitated but then forced a small smile. You wouldn't believe me.
Try me she said crossing her arms.
Adrian walked past her toward the studio area. His eyes slid over her unfinished painting. He stared at it a little too long and she felt that uneasy feeling rise again.
It's beautiful he said softly.
She didn't answer.
He turned back to her slowly. Mila was there someone here before I came
Her breath caught. She hadn't told him anything yet.
Why would you ask that she said.
Because the room feels disturbed he said simply. And because earlier I received a message from a blocked number. It said she's beginning to remember.
Mila's stomach dropped. Remember what she whispered.
He shook his head. That's the problem. I don't know.
Before she could say anything the lights flickered. Adrian's head snapped up. Mila felt her heart hammering against her ribs. The room went dark for a split second then came back on.
Adrian moved closer to her his protective instinct showing in the set of his jaw even though she wasn't sure she wanted protection from him.
This place doesn't feel right anymore he said quietly.
You think I don't know that she answered.
He moved toward the window scanning the street outside. When he turned back there was something determined in his eyes. Come stay with me tonight Mila.
She froze.
No she said too fast.
Why not he asked voice steady but eyes sharp.
Because I don't trust you she said. Not fully.
The words hung in the air like a blade.
Adrian's expression tightened. Then trust your instincts he said. If you feel unsafe here let me help.
She didn't know what to say. Her mind raced. Was this genuine concern or manipulation. She couldn't tell anymore.
Before she could answer Adrian's phone buzzed. He pulled it out looked at the screen and his entire expression shifted. Not to fear but to anger.
Who is it she asked.
He didn't answer. He clicked the message open. Mila leaned closer trying to see but he stepped slightly away.
What did it say she asked again.
He slid the phone into his pocket. Nothing important he said.
She felt frustration spark. Adrian you're hiding things from me.
He ran a hand down his face. Mila if I tell you everything right now it could put you in more danger. I need time.
She stepped back from him. Danger where is all this coming from
He met her eyes and the fear she saw in his made her chest go tight. Because someone is watching you Mila. Watching us.
The room felt suddenly colder.
Adrian took her hand gently. I need you to trust that I'm trying to protect you. Please.
She swallowed hard. Her heartbeat filled her ears. A part of her wanted to pull away. Another part wanted to stay close because of the strange comfort he always gave her even when she didn't want it.
The knock on the door made both of them jump.
Three slow knocks.
Not hurried. Not random.
Adrian's hand tightened around hers. Stay behind me he whispered.
She froze where she stood as he approached the door. He didn't open it. He didn't even look through the peephole.
He simply stood there listening.
Silence followed.
Then a voice came from the other side. Soft. Calm. Almost taunting.
You're running out of time Mila.
Her breath caught.
Adrian pulled her back from the doorway quickly. His face pale now. He mouthed don't move.
The person outside didn't knock again.
They just walked away.
Footsteps faded down the hall.
Mila's entire body shook. Adrian turned to her gripping her shoulders gently. Pack your things he said. You're not staying here tonight.
She stared at him torn between fear and confusion. Who was the voice. How did they know her name. Why did Adrian look like he expected this.
Mila nodded slowly even though her mind was a storm.
As she walked toward her room to pack she didn't see Adrian's expression shift behind her. His jaw clenched. His eyes sharpened. Like he recognized the voice.
And like he knew exactly what was coming next.
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7.7
The Cameron family clinic smelled like lemon polish and impending death. For three years, I'd been a vessel in a cold, forced marriage to Underboss Kade Cameron. But today, the doctor's words would shatter everything.
"No heartbeat," Dr. Finch declared, then, "Stage IV gastric cancer. Terminal." A double death sentence. As the world tilted, a news alert flashed: Kade, my husband, parading his mistress, Carla Shaw, across Europe-"a love that defies family lines."
Dying and carrying his dead child, I overheard nurses gossip Kade wanted me gone for his "true love." I chose to feel the D&C agony, cleansing him from my soul. Stumbling out, Kade accused me of killing his child, then rushed Carla, feigning illness, to OB/GYN, ignoring my bleeding and dying state.
Back at the mansion, I vomited blood, my body failing. Kade watched with disgust, dismissing my terminal diagnosis as a "performance." He called me "collateral," a "debt payment," then left me for his mistress. The last shred of loyalty shattered, replaced by chilling clarity.
I signed the divorce papers he dismissed as a "tantrum," leaving his ring. No longer a Cameron, no longer his possession. With Fluffy, I made one call, choosing to die on my own terms, finally free.
8.4
"How can you smile like that when neither of your fathers are here at your own wedding reception?" Pond asked, eyeing Dunk, who stood in the gallery, smiling towards his newly-wedded husband.
Dunk's smile didn't waver, but his eyes darkened. He turned to Pond, voice sharp, "Do you think I don't care? That I'd go against them on purpose?"
Pond responded without hesitation, "Aren't you doing exactly that?"
"No, I'm not," Dunk snapped. His voice dropped lower, colder. "I'm standing here for my pride-the same pride he crushed. I'm not a child who goes crying to his parents. He destroyed me, P'Pond. Now it's my turn. I'm going to destroy his life-completely."
Pond looked shaken. "You can't marry someone for revenge, Dunk. I told you-I'm here for you. I'll never let anyone from the Guthithanan family hurt you again."
Dunk's voice cracked as he exploded, "But he crossed the line that night!" He scanned the room and quickly pulled Pond into a quieter corner.
His voice was low and furious. "He shattered everything I had. And now, with this marriage, I'm going to make him live with the consequences. He's trapped with me now-forever. I won't let him walk away so easily."
His gaze flicked across the room-directly to Joong, who stood beside Sarawat, calmly speaking to a business partner. Joong caught Dunk's stare and instinctively looked his way.
Dunk raised his champagne glass with a mocking smile. A toast to war.
Joong clenched his jaw, returning the gesture coolly-but his burning eyes slid to Pond, full of rage and warning.
7.1
"You broke the first rule, Princess. That means I get to take something from you. I'll start with this," he said, tugging at my panties and a needy throb ran straight through my core.
"Kyren, don't," I tried but it was to no avail.
He roughly pulled at the flimsy material, covering my most intimate part. The sound of lace ripping, filled the room. And the cool air from the AC bit into my exposed skin.
His hands slid up my back. He unclasped my bra with ease and it soundlessly dropped to the floor. His gaze raked over my trembling form with a satisfied hunger.
"You're not a cheerleader tonight. You're just mine. And I'm going to spend the next few hours showing you exactly what happens when you break my rules," he stated, before pushing my legs wide open with his knee.
××
Hailey thought she could handle the "Ice King." She thought she could seduce him, win the bet, and walk away with her heart intact. But Kyren sees right through her games. He doesn't want her seduction, he wants her submission.
As the lines between a dare and reality blur, Hailey finds herself trapped between her father's expectations and a man who wants to claim every inch of her. In a game where the rules keep changing, Hailey is about to learn that the Ice King doesn't just freeze people out... he burns them down.
9.3
They call Dante Moretti the ruthless and heartless mafia boss. Seven years ago, he made a
deal with Elara Vance. But he used her, broke her, and planned to send her to a medical facility
after she produces an heir.
Scared for her life, Elara ran away. Now, an entirely different person has returned to New York.
She doesn't want his money, and she certainly doesn't want his heart, unless it's on her
operating table.
The girl he destroyed is dead. The woman who replaced her is the only one who can keep him
alive. He's dying for a second chance, but he's just waiting for the first cut.
7.7
Five years of war, three peace summits. One rule that never changed. Ray Carter and Levi Morgan stay on opposite sides, until the night fate decides otherwise. Ray feels nothing, rules everything and answers to no one. He built his empire on control and his reputation on fear, and he has never once lost either.
Then Levi walks into the room. His enemy, his rival. The heir of the pack that took everything from him, his mate. One bond, two men on opposite sides of a war neither of them started. Laws older than their bloodlines demand they reject each other, walk away, and pretend it never happened. But the bond doesn't care about laws and neither, it turns out, does Ray. Someone already knows their secret and someone who has been waiting for exactly this moment.
The question isn't whether Ray and Levi can survive each other. It's whether either of them will survive what's coming and who exactly wants them to find out the hard way?
9.4
I was the daughter of a defeated Alpha, kneeling as a broken war spoil before the ruthless Lycan King, Kaelen Varg.
Through a twisted misunderstanding with a spiked drink, the tyrant lost control. But when he attacked me, an impossible spark ignited between us. His inner wolf roared in triumph, recognizing me as his fated Mate, and he claimed me in the heat of the night.
But the next morning, he woke up with another woman's name on his lips. Realizing he had surrendered to a lowly tribute, his eyes filled with absolute, violent loathing. To erase the humiliation of our bond, he shoved me to the floor like garbage.
"Take her to the Barrens. Leave her there. Make sure she never comes back."
His Beta dragged me to a sealed, sun-baked wasteland crawling with mutated beasts. They clamped silver cuffs onto my wrists, searing my flesh and suppressing my wolf, leaving me to die a slow, agonizing death.
I lay in the scorching dirt, the silver burning into my bones. I couldn't understand how a fated Mate could be so merciless. Why was my life worth less than his twisted pride? Why did I have to be fed to monsters just so he could keep his throne spotless?
The cold rage in my core solidified into a diamond-hard resolve. I forced my bleeding body to stand in the desolate wasteland. I will not die here. I will survive, and I will live to see his kingdom burn.