
Ninety-Nine Heartbreaks, One Final Goodbye
The ninety-ninth time Jax Little broke my heart was the last time. We were the golden couple of Northgate High, our future perfectly mapped out for UCLA. But in our senior year, he fell for a new girl, Catalina, and our love story became a sick, exhausting dance of his betrayals and my empty threats to leave.
At a graduation party, Catalina "accidentally" pulled me into the pool with her. Jax dove in without a second's hesitation. He swam right past me as I struggled, wrapped his arms around Catalina, and pulled her to safety.
As he helped her out to the cheers of his friends, he glanced back at me, my body shivering and my mascara running in black rivers.
"Your life isn't my problem anymore," he said, his voice as cold as the water I was drowning in.
That night, something inside me finally shattered. I went home, opened my laptop, and clicked the button that confirmed my admission.
Not to UCLA with him, but to NYU, an entire country away.
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Chapter 5
Eliana POV:
I stood in the blinding California sun, my eyes locked on the white USPS truck slowly crawling down the pristine driveway of my family's estate.
I took a slow, deep breath. The air tasted like dry heat and jasmine. For three years, every breath I took had been shallow, measured, and carefully calculated so I wouldn't take up too much space in Jax's world. The suffocation had become my normal.
Today, my lungs finally expanded to their full capacity.
The postal truck groaned to a halt by the curb. A mailman in a sweat-stained blue uniform stepped out, holding a thick, rigid envelope. My heart kicked against my ribs.
Before I could take a step forward, the screech of tires tore through the quiet neighborhood.
A sleek black Porsche swerved violently, stopping mere inches from the postal truck's rear bumper. The driver's door swung open. Jax stepped out.
His jaw was clenched tight, and his dark eyebrows were pulled together in that signature look of annoyed impatience. He walked toward me with the heavy, entitled strides of a billionaire heir who expected the world to part for him. He hated having his schedule interrupted. He hated anything he couldn't control.
"Delivery for Eliana," the mailman said, checking the address on the clipboard. He held out the envelope. It had the bold purple torch logo of New York University stamped in the corner.
Jax's hand shot out. He snatched the envelope right out of the mailman's grip before I could even raise my arm.
"Hey," the mailman muttered, stepping back.
Jax didn't look at him. His eyes scanned the return address, and I watched the muscles in his neck instantly go rigid. The annoyance on his face morphed into a dark, suffocating storm.
"New York University?" Jax's voice was a low, dangerous rumble. He took a step toward me, his tall frame casting a shadow over my face. "Why the hell are you applying to schools on the East Coast behind my back?"
I didn't flinch. I didn't scramble to explain myself, and I didn't apologize. The urge to appease him was completely gone, replaced by a hollow, ringing silence.
I simply held out my hand. "Give it back, Jax."
He let out a harsh laugh, holding the envelope high above my head. It was a physical reminder of his power, his height, his absolute certainty that he owned me.
"Is this your new game?" he sneered, his eyes flashing with arrogant disbelief. "You're throwing a tantrum over Catalina, so you apply to some school across the country just to get my attention? It's pathetic, Eliana. Grow up."
A cold smile touched my lips. I dropped my hand. I didn't even want to touch him to fight for it.
Before I could speak, his phone vibrated in his pocket.
The ringtone was custom. A soft, acoustic melody. Catalina's ringtone.
Jax pulled his phone out. The anger in his eyes instantly dissolved, replaced by a frantic, helpless urgency. He swiped the screen. "Catalina? What's wrong?"
I stood there and listened. I could hear her high-pitched, breathless sobbing through the receiver.
"Jax... I can't breathe," Catalina gasped, her voice thick with manufactured panic. "My asthma... I can't find my inhaler. Please, I'm scared."
Jax's chest heaved. Panic flared in his eyes. "Hold on. Just breathe. I'm five minutes away. I'm coming right now."
He hung up. He looked at me, searching my face. He was waiting for the jealousy. He was waiting for my eyes to well up with tears, for my voice to crack as I begged him not to leave me for her again.
I gave him nothing. My face was a mask of absolute indifference. I even took a deliberate step back, putting more physical distance between us.
The coldness in my eyes seemed to hit him like a physical blow. A flicker of confusion crossed his face. He didn't understand this script.
Frustrated, he threw the NYU envelope onto the manicured grass.
"Stop throwing this ridiculous temper tantrum," he snapped, pointing a finger at me. "I don't have time for your childish games right now. I'll deal with you when I get back."
He turned his back on me and marched to the Porsche. He didn't look back once.
The heavy car door slammed shut. The engine roared, a violent, tearing sound that shattered the peace of the wealthy street. The Porsche shot forward like a bullet, leaving behind a cloud of exhaust and the faint scent of burning rubber.
I watched the taillights disappear around the corner. The very last thread of attachment I held for that man snapped cleanly in two. I didn't feel sad. I felt incredibly light.
I walked over to the grass and bent down. I picked up the thick envelope. A smear of dirt stained the white paper. I used my thumb to gently wipe the dust off the NYU crest, tracing the letters like they were a lifeline.
The mailman stood awkwardly by his truck, holding out his electronic scanner. "Uh, I still need a signature, miss."
"Of course," I said smoothly.
I took the stylus. I didn't hesitate. I pressed the pen to the screen and signed my full name with sharp, deliberate strokes.
"Congratulations on getting in," the mailman smiled gently, taking the scanner back. He climbed into his truck and drove away.
I held the envelope against my chest. I turned around and walked toward the heavy oak doors of my house. I stepped inside, letting the door click shut behind me, locking the past outside.
"This is the best coming-of-age gift I've ever received."
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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.

8.5
Everyone knew Caroline loved Jacob, the frail man in a wheelchair, even giving up her chance at marrying into wealth for him.
She devoted everything to his recovery, enduring hardship and humiliation to help him stand again.
When he finally recovered, they were praised as perfect together-until danger came.
Faced with saving her or her sister, Jacob chose the latter without hesitation. Only in her final moments did Caroline realize his heart was never hers.
Reborn, she made a different choice, choosing power over love.
When Jacob later begged, she looked down coldly. "I have no interest in men who can't stand on their own."

7.2
Clifton, the god of esports, was secretly battling a career-ending wrist injury to protect his team.
A year ago, he kissed his duo partner, Justice, only to be met with violent disgust. Justice shoved him away and dry-heaved in the rain, looking at him like a monster.
Humiliated by the straight man's raw revulsion, Clifton cut him out of his life.
But now, Justice suddenly appeared at Clifton's club as a rookie tryout.
Instead of an ambitious climber, Justice played the perfect, pathetic victim. He cowered, trembled, and acted terrified whenever Clifton was near.
He even signed a bloodsucking contract with a toxic teammate, sparking rumors he was brought in to replace Clifton as captain.
During a scrimmage, Clifton hesitated to shoot because he remembered Justice had just severely burned his hand.
Justice showed no mercy. He ruthlessly gunned Clifton down, humiliating the captain in front of the entire coaching staff.
Clifton was consumed by blinding rage and betrayal.
If Justice was so disgusted by him, why did he fake his devotion for six months just to use him?
Why was he acting like helpless prey now, after trampling all over Clifton's pride?
Determined to rip off the liar's disguise, Clifton dragged Justice into a live stream in front of sixty thousand viewers.
"He's asking if you are in love with me."
Clifton smiled cruelly, waiting for the public execution. But just as the trap snapped shut, a choked, terrified gasp came through the headset.

9.0
Colette stepped out of the federal prison, finally breathing the air of freedom after two agonizing years.
But instead of a bus home, a black armored SUV blocked her path. Ferris Vance's men kidnapped her right at the gates. He forced her to sign a marriage certificate, threatening to completely destroy her father's legacy if she refused.
The nightmare had only just begun. She soon learned her father had been driven to suicide anyway. Dragged into the Vance estate, Colette was beaten bloody by the family of Ellie, the girl she supposedly wronged. Ferris paraded her in a pure white gown for the cameras, playing the fiercely devoted husband. But the second the lenses turned away, he forced her into a coarse maid's uniform, making her scrub the freezing marble floors on her hands and knees.
"Your life isn't even worth the dirt on my shoes."
Ferris whispered those words as he threw his muddy boots at her bruised face. She was nothing but a piece of bleeding bait, a prop meant to lure his missing lover out of hiding. She was tortured and humiliated for a crime she had absolutely nothing to do with. The sheer injustice of paying the price for another woman's disappearance tore her soul apart.
When he cornered her in the bathroom, the last thread of Colette's sanity snapped. She hurled a bucket of filthy water right into his face, broke out of his grip, and threw herself out a window into a freezing storm. This time, she chose to escape, even if it meant death.

8.4
Everly spent four years playing the perfect, accommodating wife to Carson Moss, swallowing every grievance just to secure medical treatments for their sick daughter.
But at a high-society banquet she exhausted herself organizing, Carson's pregnant mistress crashed the party.
The woman shoved an ultrasound of Carson's "real heir" directly into Everly's frail grandfather's face.
The shock triggered a massive heart attack.
Carson refused to use his private helicopter to save the dying old man, choosing to protect his mistress and his company's IPO instead. Her grandfather died on the hospital table.
Instead of remorse, her mother-in-law demanded Everly publicly cover up the murder.
"You will do exactly as I say, or I will freeze every single cent of the medical trust fund paying for your crippled daughter's treatments."
When a battered Everly returned to the estate, she discovered her three-year-old daughter covered in dark bruises and pinch marks. Her in-laws were deliberately torturing her disabled child.
Everly couldn't comprehend how a family could be so utterly heartless. Her only family was murdered, her child was abused, and her husband threw a five-million-dollar check at her face as hush money.
They thought she would just break and quietly disappear.
But when a terrifyingly powerful billionaire unexpectedly blocked Carson's security team from locking her up, Everly finally saw her window.
She grabbed her sleeping daughter and ran out into the freezing storm, making a blood-bound vow to make the entire Moss family bleed.

9.6
My world revolved around Jax Harding, my older brother's captivating rockstar friend.
From sixteen, I adored him; at eighteen, I clung to his casual promise: "When you're 22, maybe I'll settle down."
That offhand comment became my life's beacon, guiding every choice, meticulously planning my twenty-second birthday as our destiny.
But on that pivotal day in a Lower East Side bar, clutching my gift, my dream exploded.
I overheard Jax' s cold voice: "Can't believe Savvy's showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said."
Then the crushing plot: "We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hint she' s pregnant. That should scare her off."
My gift, my future, slipped from my numb fingers.
I fled into the cold New York rain, devastated by betrayal.
Later, Jax introduced Chloe as his "fiancée" while his bandmates mocked my "adorable crush"-he did nothing.
As an art installation fell, he saved Chloe, abandoning me to severe injury.
In the hospital, he came for "damage control," then shockingly shoved me into a fountain, leaving me to bleed, calling me a "jealous psycho."
How could the man I loved, who once saved me, become this cruel and publicly humiliate me?
Why was my devotion seen as an annoyance to be brutally extinguished with lies and assault?
Was I just a problem, my loyalty met with hatred?
I would not be his victim.
Injured and betrayed, I made an unshakeable vow: I was done.
I blocked his number and everyone connected to him, severing ties.
This was not an escape; this was my rebirth.
Florence awaited, a new life on my terms, unburdened by broken promises.