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 8
Sleep refused to come.
Mila lay awake listening to every sound outside her window. The wind brushing the trees. A car passing too slowly. Her phone resting on the nightstand felt heavier than usual, like it might light up at any moment with another message meant to unsettle her.
Her mind kept replaying the screen at the dance. The photos. The note. The smile on that student's face before they vanished into the crowd.
By morning, her nerves were stretched thin.
At school, the whispers followed her everywhere.
Did you see the photos
Was that her boyfriend
Why would someone do that
Mila kept her head down. Mara stayed close, unusually quiet. Ethan barely spoke, his usual warmth replaced with something guarded.
Adrian wasn't at school.
That made everything worse.
During third period, Mila's phone vibrated in her pocket.
Unknown number.
Her heart stuttered.
She waited until the teacher turned to the board, then glanced down.
You looked beautiful under the lights.
But you always did love an audience.
Her fingers trembled.
She typed back before she could stop herself.
Who is this.
The reply came instantly.
Someone you forgot.
Someone who remembers.
Her breath caught. She slipped her phone away, her chest tight. This wasn't random anymore. This person knew her. Knew her well.
At lunch, Mila pulled Mara aside.
Something's wrong she whispered. Someone's messaging me.
Mara's face went pale. What do they want.
I don't know. But they're watching me.
Mara swallowed. Maybe you should tell the principal.
And say what. That someone is obsessed with ruining my life.
Before Mara could answer, Ethan approached.
I think we should talk he said quietly.
Mila nodded, uneasy.
They walked toward the back of the courtyard where it was quieter.
I didn't know about you and Adrian Ethan began. Not really.
Mila sighed. It's complicated.
Everything seems to be lately he said. Especially after last night.
She studied his face. There was something off in his tone.
Ethan did you know someone was going to do that she asked suddenly.
His eyes flickered. No. Of course not.
But the hesitation was there. Small. Almost invisible. But Mila saw it.
Before she could press further, Adrian appeared.
His presence shifted the air immediately.
We need to talk Mila he said.
Now.
Ethan stiffened. Whatever this is can wait.
No it can't Adrian replied. Not anymore.
Mila held up her hand. Stop. Both of you.
She turned to Adrian. What did you find.
Adrian's jaw tightened. The number messaging you. It's been used before. Last year.
Mila's stomach dropped. Used for what.
Anonymous complaints. Threats. Someone trying to ruin another student.
Who.
Adrian hesitated. Someone who was suspended.
Mila felt cold. Suspended for what.
For spreading lies he said quietly. For obsession. For refusing to let go.
A name formed in her mind before he said it.
Lena.
Mila staggered back slightly.
Lena was a girl she used to sit with in freshman year. Quiet. Observant. Always watching. They had grown close for a while, until things turned strange. Possessive. Intense. Mila had slowly pulled away.
Lena disappeared soon after.
She wouldn't she whispered.
Adrian met her eyes. She blamed you. For everything.
Mila's phone vibrated again.
She didn't need to look.
She already knew.
I warned you.
You always leave people behind.
Her throat tightened.
Ethan spoke suddenly. This is insane. You can't just accuse someone without proof.
Mila turned to him sharply. Why are you defending her.
He looked startled. I'm not. I just think we should be careful.
Adrian watched Ethan closely. You know her.
It wasn't a question.
Ethan's silence was answer enough.
Mila's heart sank.
I used to tutor her Ethan admitted. After she got suspended, she reached out. She said you abandoned her.
Did you give her my schedule Mila asked softly.
He looked away.
Just once he said. She said she wanted to apologize.
The betrayal cut deeper than fear.
You told her about the dance Mila whispered.
Ethan nodded miserably. I didn't know she'd do this. I swear.
Mila stepped back like the ground beneath her had cracked.
You brought her back into my life she said.
I was trying to help he pleaded.
Adrian moved closer to Mila protectively. You helped her stalk us.
Ethan's voice broke. I didn't mean to.
The bell rang, loud and sharp, but none of them moved.
Mila wiped her eyes. I trusted you.
She turned and walked away.
That evening, Mila sat in her room staring at the window.
A shadow moved outside.
Her breath stopped.
She stood slowly and approached the glass.
There, standing beneath the streetlight, was a girl.
Lena.
She smiled and lifted her phone, tapping the screen once before slipping back into the darkness.
Mila's phone vibrated.
We're not finished yet.
You owe me the ending I deserve.
Mila's hands shook as she typed one final message.
This ends now.
The reply came slower this time.
Good.
I've been waiting.
Mila locked the window, her heart pounding.
Behind her, the past had returned.
And this time, it wasn't hiding.
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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.